“Really? It’s so early.”
My brother removes his coat and tosses it on the barstool in the kitchen. “She up in the guest bedroom?”
“She was at a friend’s house today with an indoor pool. They swam and swam until their arms were noodles and their skin was all wrinkly. She’s beat.”
“Bet she’ll be up at the ass crack of dawn, though.”
“She’ll for sure be up at the ass crack of dawn.” I laugh. “I made chicken for dinner if you’re hungry.”
I shift so I’m cross-legged on the couch.
“We ate a few hours ago, but it smells delicious,” Juliet says, taking an empty spot next to me on the couch. She dressed up for their date in black leather pants, killer high heels, and a floral blouse.
“Where’d you go tonight?”
“We went bowling.”
Ha! “Who won?”
They both point at each other and laugh again. “We both suck at it.”
You don’t say. Is anyone ever good at bowling? I mean, it’s not something a person does on a regular basis…
“We ate pizza while we were bowling,” Davis tells me. “And appetizers. For some reason, I caught a second wind once I started kicking her ass and taking names.”
Juliet rolls her eyes in my direction. “Okay, let’s brag about it. We had the gutter guards up.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Davis argues.
“Actually…it does.”
“Are we always going to squabble like this?” My brother’s voice is pensive as he walks over to join us girls on the couch, plopping down beside Juliet. He picks up her legs to rest them across his lap and immediately starts massaging her feet.
Like they’ve been a couple for years.
“Is that what this is? A squabble?”
I watch them both. “Aw, aren’t the two of you just adorable?”
Gag.
My brother grins at me, all happy and shit. “I’d lean over and ruffle your hair, but you’re too far.” He wiggles his hand in my direction, out of reach.
“Good. I don’t want my hair ruffled. I grew out of that in second grade.”
“Liar. You used to love it when I would give you noogies.”
“Said no one ever.”
Juliet laughs, kicking off her high heels and resting her head back on the sofa the same way I’d been doing before they came through the door.
“God, that feels like heaven!” She groans. “Those shoes were killing my feet. And after the week I’ve had…” She groans again, closing her eyes.
The doorbell sounds, and we all look at each other.
“Who could that be?”
Yeah, it is weird that someone is just popping by my brother’s house this late at night without—
“Oh, shit!” I pop up from the couch like my ass has suddenly caught on fire. “I forgot I ordered ingredients to make pancakes in the morning. We—and by we, I mean you—are all out of flour and vanilla.”
Davis makes a show of beginning to rise from the couch, still holding his date’s feet like a weirdo. “Sure you don’t want me to get the door?”
They look way too comfortable for me to disturb.
I shoo him away, giving him a backward glance as I head toward his foyer.
“I’ve got it. Just be backup in case it’s actually a murderer and not the delivery guy.”
“Make sure you scream loud enough.” He laughs.
Oh, I would scream loud enough, all right, but it’s just the grocery delivery person, and typically, they’ve disappeared before I even make it to the door, sometimes leaving the bag at the garage.
Unlocking the deadbolt, I pull open the door, half expecting the bag to be on the stoop where it typically is. My eyes automatically cast downward at the ground, searching. Rather than a grocery bag, they land on an expensive pair of sneakers, then roam upward over dark denim jeans and a black hoodie.
The man standing outside on my brother’s doorstep is most certainly not the DoorHub delivery guy.
He takes a step back, surprised.
“Holy shit. Penelope Halbrook. I wasn’t expecting. I wasn’t…” The man I haven’t seen in many, many years—since college, to be exact—stuffs his hands inside his pockets almost bashfully as he stares wide-eyed at me. “I wasn’t expecting you to open the door.”
Of course he wasn’t. This is not my house.
He was clearly expecting Davis.
But I’m the one who came to the door, and now I regret it.
This man…
He’s a good man, but one I’ve been avoiding for far too long.
“It seems I’m not the only one who’s shocked right now.” I shift on my feet, my heart pounding inside my chest. I swear to god my blood pressure has to be through the roof because my heart is racing so hard.
Can’t think.
Can’t focus.
What is he doing here?
WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?
“Are you here to see my brother?” Obviously, this is Davis’s house. What other reason could it be? They both play or played football at one point, though not at the same time and never as opponents.
With one hand on the doorjamb and another on the door handle, I have no idea what to do with myself.