He shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe,” he muses. “I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
“I think I could if I let myself,” he murmurs softly. “All I know is that she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
“Yeah,” I laugh. “You love her.”
As we walk in through the living room, we hear Tully and Noah still bickering in the kitchen. Rivers shakes his head and I place the pizza boxes down on the coffee table before trailing into the kitchen.
I stop in the doorway to peek in at what I’m about to walk in on to find Tully standing at the sink moping about peeling potatoes while Noah stands over the stove with a boiling pot of water, yet after twenty minutes of being in here, they haven’t managed to actually cook anything.
I grin at the sight before me. Where the hell would I be without them?
I creep into the kitchen and head straight for the cupboard before rummaging through until my fingers curl around the little glass jar. With a grin, I pour a handful of powder into my hand and chuckle to myself. I’ve been waiting for this moment since the day Noah first barged his way into my home.
I walk up behind Noah and slide my arms around him. “Hi,” I murmur into his back.
His hands come down on my arms, holding me there, assuming I’m being a nice little girlfriend and giving him a loving hug. I peek around his back and the second he reaches forward and removes the lid off the boiling pot, my hand shoots out, releasing the handful of chili powder into the water.
“What are you doing?” he demands, nudging me back out of the way by bopping me with his ass.
“What do you mean?” I question innocently as he tries to scoop out the chili powder, having no idea that there’s pizza waiting for him in the other room. “You’re the one who told me that you put chili powder in everything. Don’t tell me that was a lie,” I gasp in mock horror.
He presses his lips together, realizing that I know exactly what game he was playing during our first meal together. “I…shit,” he laughs. “How long have you known about that?”
“Since the very start,” I smile proudly.
He draws in a deep breath while looking at me with mischievous eyes. “You know I’m going to have to start all over again, right?”
“You know there’s pizza on the coffee table, right?”
His eyes widen as Tully throws down the potato in her hands. “Yes,” she squeals.
Within the blink of an eye, the two of them storm out of the kitchen sounding like a damn stampede. I laugh after them, turn off the stove, and follow them out of the kitchen, more than ready for tonight’s food coma.
Chapter 3
The afternoon sun blares in my face as my backpack weighs down on my shoulders. I’m halfway home when Tully’s jeep pulls up on the sidewalk beside me. “What the hell are you doing walking home?” she laughs as she tries her best to watch both me and the road in front of her.
I throw my hands up with a huff as Tully brings her car to a stop. “I don’t know,” I groan, opening the door and climbing in just in time for Tully to swipe the crap off the passenger’s seat onto the floor. “Noah gave me a lift this morning and then he and Rivers disappeared to do whatever shady shit it is that they do, leaving me stranded,” I whine. “And when I couldn’t find you, I figured your tongue was down someone’s throat so I started walking.”
“You’re such a Muppet,” she howls with laughter, pulling back out onto the road and hitting the gas towards my place. “And for the record, my tongue was down Travis’ throat.”
“Travis?” I question. “Who the fuck is Travis?”
“You know,” she says, clicking her finger as she gets lost in thought. “The hipster guy with the man bun. And skinny jeans.”
“Oh,” I laugh. “His name’s not Travis by the way, it’s Trent.”
“What?” she grunts, looking across at me. “Fuck. Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Shit. I called him Travis to his face and he still let me play around with him.”
“Duh,” I laugh. “He has a dick and I bet, with that man bun, it hasn’t been touched in a really long time. Of course, he’s going to let you call him Travis. You could probably call him a fucking wet pussy and pull out a strap on and he’d still let you ride him to the grave.”
“Jesus,” she says, slightly amused by my little tantrum. “What crawled up your ass?”
“Your fucking brother. I want to castrate him,” I demand. “I swear, I’ve been cursing those fuckers out since the second I left school.” I huff again, crossing my arms over my chest. “Is it too much to ask for a simple ‘Hey, I can’t drive you home this afternoon, maybe it’s best you drive yourself.’ Fuck me.”