Sunsets and Vegas Bombs

☼ Chapter 1

"I asked you to pick up three things, Teagan. Three measly things from the grocery store so I could finish packing. And what do you bring home? Ten bags of snacks and two cases of Mountain Dew!"
"Aw c'mon, Harley, you know not to send me alone. I didn't mean to get all those other things, I just panicked."
"Just...I don't know, throw it all in some coolers and load it up in the cars. I have to make sure I've got everything."
"Don't be like that Harl's, I didn't mean to make you mad."

Sighing, I cast a wary glance at my friend, who seems to think I'm mad about the fact that we now have road trip snacks. Sitting my coffee mug down on the counter beside me, I turn and launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.

"I'm not mad, Teeg. I just find it funny that your panicking led to us having more snacks for this trip than any nine people could possibly need."
He grabs my waist and swings me off my feet, "Yeah, I know. But hey, on the bright side, no stopping for food!"
I laugh at that, "Between the seven of you boys, I'm sure we will stop many times for food. Just my brothers alone will probably demand it before we can walk out the door."

With that, I maneuver my way out of Teagan's arms, and leave him to sort the food out while I finish packing.

As I make my way to my room, I stop by the bathroom and grab the travel bag I threw together the night before, along with Nathan's toothbrush. As I walk past the guys room, I call his name, and toss it at him when he looks up.

"Thanks, princess." He calls as he shoulders his bag.

I don't bother to answer, only shooting him a casual middle finger as I pass. It still escapes me why my brothers thought it was a great idea to bring that childhood nickname with us when we moved in. Now all the guys use it, either out of habit or to irritate me, and sometimes both. Either way, it didn't suit me very well when I was a kid, and much less now that I can bench more than half the defensive line at my college. But, old habits die hard, and nicknames stick like sports bras in the southern heat.

Speaking of southern heat, I remember that I meant to ask Jax for a few of his cutoff shirts to throw over my swimsuits instead of the stifling cotton dress my mother sent. Don't get me wrong, it was an incredibly sweet gesture, but I would likely kneel over if I were to wear it for long out in the North Carolina heat.

So, I turn back around and head for the boys room. Stepping in, I'm immediately bombarded with a panicked Devon.

"Harley, you've gotta help me!" He pleads, grabbing my sweatshirt sleeve and dragging me towards his bed.
"Okay, okay, calm down! You're gonna pull my sleeve off you big idiot!" I complain, "What's the big deal?"
"Sara's cheating on me." He states, shoving his phone into my hand.
"Okay, first of all, I told you so, and second of all, dump her. I didn't want her at the house anyways, and now you're free to party it up in Topsail."
"I know all that, but I need you to tell her."

I stare at him like he has three heads for a moment. This man is telling me that he, a six foot four individual who spends more time in the gym than anywhere else, would rather have his sister, vertically challenged in comparison at five foot five and weighing much less, break up with his girlfriend for him?

"I'll let you choose the radio station on the way down and pay for the first week of your meals." He pleads, understanding what I'm thinking by the look on my face.
"Okay, deal," I nod, shaking his outstretched hand, "pull up her number."

He does so and then crashes down on the edge of his bed, staring hopefully at me. I roll my eyes and turn my back to him.

I never liked the girl to begin with. She's not a horrible person I guess, just boring. She pays for her body and gets her personality from the explore page on Instagram. She's pretty in the "pays for her likes" kind of way. But, there was one time when she accused me of sleeping with Devon and I had to set her straight really quickly and explain that he's my brother and if she made another accusation like that while in my house, I would have to pop the inflatables on her chest.

However, I push all of that from my focus as the click and bored, "Hello?" from the other end of the line lets me know it's showtime. I expect the works from her, tears, screaming, the whole shebang. However, when I explain to her that Devon knows she's stepping out on him, and that she's no longer welcome on our trip, she simply responds with, "Okay, tell your brother I appreciated our time together. Wish you the best. Bye." I'm pleasantly surprised.

Relaying this oddly emotionless response to Devon, he shrugs and his shoulders visibly relax. I pat his back and reassure him that there will be plenty of females in Topsail, and he's a free man. Then, I head back to my previous task of hunting Jax down and talking him out of some shirts.

Meandering down the hall, I search for someone who shouldn't be that hard to find. Standing six foot six with shoulders as broad as the doorways and a new hobby of wearing hawiian print shirts in blinging colors, the dude shouldn't be able to hide anywhere in the house, and yet, I can't seem to find him.

As a last ditch effort, I walk outside, hoping he might be loading up the cars. Success has never been as great as when I spot his dark hair over the side of the Tahoe, peeking out from behind the open door. I decide that since he drank the last of the preworkout and didn't get more when he went to the store yesterday, it's within my rights to scare him. So I do just that.

"Jaxon!" I shout, grabbing onto his shoulders while the rest of his upper body is bent into the car.

A string of expletives fall from his mouth as he flies backwards, his head hitting the doorframe. Laughing, I step back, and seconds later, I'm faced with Jax who's rubbing the back of his head and seems a touch too mad for just being scared.

"The hell was that for?" He asks, his green eyes flashing in annoyance.
"Geez, you woke up on the wrong side of the bed. But that was for drinking all of the preworkout. But, I was also wondering if I could borrow a few of your cutoff shirts?" I answer, realizing that I might have made the wrong call by scaring him.
"What ever happened to calling someone's name? I hear that can also get someone's attention." He bites back.
"I'm sorry, are you mad I made you hit your head? You want me to kiss it so it'll feel better?"
"Harley, if you've got nothing better to do, why don't you go ask everyone else to bring their stuff out."
"Jax, I asked you a question," I say, a tiny bit hurt that he completely ignored my request, but also understanding that I probably should have approached the situation differently, "can I please borrow a few of your shirts?"
"Yeah, sure I don't really care. Just grab them, you know where they are." With that, he turns back around and continues loading bags into the car.

Sighing, I turn back to walk up the steps into the house. However, before I even walk up one, I turn back and stride towards Jax. Throwing my arms around his middle, I rest my cheek on his back, hugging him tightly. I can feel his muscles tighten as he stands, and silently pulls me around to his front, hugging me back.

"I really am sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I know you're on edge because of Ansley and all that." I say, tilting my head to look up at him.
His jaw clenches at her name, but he nods, "Thanks, Harley."
I nod and give him one more squeeze before letting go and walking towards the stairs once more.
"Top drawer, middle stack." He says.
I turn, screwing up my face in confusion.
"Your favorite shirt of mine, I washed it yesterday and it's yours for the taking." He continues, not bothering to turn from where he's piling chairs into the car.

Smiling, I walk back into the house. Maybe he did walk up on the wrong side of the bed, but a Harley hug can fix anything.