6
Dexter
“Did you get everything delivered?” Mrs. Jones asks as I walk into the house. She’s reading a book on the stuffed chair in the corner—the one directly under a giant painting of wings George made for Sierra. Castiel’s angel wings, obviously. The front of the book says something about finding your passion and two others on the coffee table have the same theme. There’s also one about writing the best college applications that I definitely don’t ask about.
“Yep, got them all dropped off.”
She smiles up at me. “I bet that’s a relief.”
“It is.” I walk toward the hallway, knowing I should feel a little more guilty about what I’d just been doing with her daughter, but I’m not. I love Starlee and we’re responsible. “Thanks for helping with the database though. It made everything a lot easier.”
“You’re welcome. I’m just glad I’m able to put some of my skills to use around here. We both know making coffee isn’t one of them.”
I laugh. She’s right. Coffee-making is strangely outside her wheelhouse.
“You’re going next door tonight? To watch your show?”
Ah, Supernatural night. I almost forgot. We’d had a group meeting after Sierra left about how we wanted to handle it. It seemed strange at first, continuing a tradition without her, but then George made the observation that it’s much like the patriarchs leaving the show itself. Parental figures, fill-in adults, family and friends all come and go, and the Winchester boys still move forward.
“Yeah,” I say. “I need to shower first.”
She rolls her eyes. “If there’s any hot water left. I think Jake’s been in there for an hour already.”
I don’t tell Mrs. Jones but I’m pretty sure Jake’s showers are cold and not hot, but she’s not used to raising boys. I can tell almost everything we do confuses her. At first, I thought she’d be strict like she’d been with Starlee. We were prepared for it, everyone in agreement to just go along with it for the next few months. We didn’t really have an option and we were all grateful she’d stepped in. Ultimately, she’d surprised us, pretty much leaving us on our own—and giving her daughter a little space. After the last few months it was a welcome reprieve, and we all just tried our hardest to behave and stay out of trouble.
I take the stairs two at a time and walk down the hall. “Hey,” I say, standing in Charlie’s doorway. George is in the seat next to him getting his butt kicked in some RPG game. “You guys headed over to Mrs. Nye’s in a bit?”
“Yeah,” Charlie says, barely looking up. “We’ll be ready.”
“Die, sucker!” George shouts, jerking around his seat. A quick glance at the screen shows me George’s player just got his head lopped off. “Dammit!”
I leave them to it and walk across the hall, banging on the closed bathroom door. “Hurry up, dude, I need a shower.”
The door jerks open. There’s shaving cream on Jake’s chin and he’s shirtless, wearing just athletic shorts. I’m definitely into girls, but Jake’s body is seriously a work of art. If anything, it makes me a little insecure knowing Starlee has this as a comparison. Well, she should. The tight set of Jake's shoulders, the countless hours running and working out along with his unbearable attitude is making me think something’s up. That and the fact Starlee has mentioned hiking with Jake more than once lately. In the summer I’d think this was code for them having sex in the woods, but the winter? He’d freeze his balls off.
“I’m finished,” he says, wiping off his chin.
“Thanks.” I push past him, already taking off my T-shirt. His eyes flick to my collarbone and that muscle tics in his jaw. I glance in the mirror and touch the fresh red mark left by Starlee’s mouth.
When I look back to Jake he’s gone—his bedroom door closing with a snap. I turn on the water and run my hand beneath it. Sure enough, there’s plenty of heat—confirming my suspicions. I drop my pants and shorts, dunking myself under the steamy heat.
When I walk out of the bathroom twenty minutes later, the twins haven’t moved, and Jake’s door is still shut. I head to my room, changing into a clean pair of jeans and pulling a flannel over my shirt.
“You guys ready to head next door?” I call down the hall, tugging on a boot.
There’s some kind of commotion from Charlie’s room but they both emerge a bit bleary-eyed and head down the stairs. Jake’s room is directly across from mine and his opens just as I step into the hall. We stand across from one another.
“Dude, what’s going on?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
Second time I’ve heard that today. “Look, I’m here if you want to talk about, uh, it. You know, stuff.”
Starlee isn’t something we discuss like this. It feels disrespectful, but we’ve also agreed that our relationship involves all of us, which can complicate things if one person is having an issue.
He shuts me down anyway. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
I follow him down the stairs. “Are you mad?” I keep my voice low. Mrs. Jones is down the hall. “About the hickey?”