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Lara ducks back to her room to clean up while my sister brushes a bit of flour from her shirt before flinging herself onto the couch. Bowie moves in beside her, pulling her feet into his lap.
Gross.
I mean great. Love how nauseatingly in love my little sister and former— fuck —I mean eternal best friend are.
Love. It.
I smile. Tightly.
They grin.
I roll my eyes. Piper forgets I’m there and pokes Bowie’s ribs with her toes, eliciting a low growl that is going to haunt my fucking nightmares, it’s so far past the PG-13 rule we had in place while they lived here.
I huff. They ignore me, murmuring to each other.
“So how was the trip?” I ask desperately.
“Amazing,” they say in unison, threading their fingers together.
Bare fingers. Still no rings, so that referenced “amazing” can only mean one thing. And I don’t want to think about it. “And the new apartment? You guys enjoying the place?”
The look they give each other is completely uncalled for, and the gag reflex is real. Not that they notice.
“Hello? What am I, invisible here? My house, my rules. No eye-fucking my little sister in front of me, dude!”
Bowie takes his sweet time tearing his attention from Piper, but then gives me a legit apologetic shrug before changing the subject. “You and Elliot seem to have fallen back into that old groove.”
I look down the hall toward her closed door and nod. “Yeah, getting there. Like I told you the other day, it was a little stiff at first.”
He lifts a brow, and I wave him off. “Not like that, dick.”
“Hey, you said stiff. We’ve met.” He gives up a gruff laugh. “Not sure how else I was supposed to take it.”
“Oh, come on.” Piper gives him another toe to the ribs. “You know that’s not how it is with them.”
“It’s not how it was with them,” he corrects, catching her foot to— oh hell no —bite the side. “But our man here isn’t exactly the same kid he was back when he was saving himself for love and marriage.”
“Guys, I’m right here.” When did I become the most ignorable guy in the room?
Piper sighs. “I am aware of his fuck-boy status. He might be banging half of Chicago, but not Lara Elliot.”
Bowie lifts a brow half a millimeter, all, You sure about that?
Piper snorts.
I look down the hall again. Door still closed. But it won’t be for long, and this is not a discussion I want overheard. “Yo. Cut it out.”
Do they listen? No.
“Sweetheart, eight years is a long time. With Boomer, eight hours is?—”
“Enough,” I snap, startling them both. My heart is pounding harder than it should be, and I’m half out of my chair. “Eight years is a long time, and while Lara and I were tight in high school, this roommate situation is new. So I’d really fucking appreciate it if you didn’t make her uncomfortable with all your speculation. Fair?”
Chastened, they both nod.
Then, less than a second later, Piper bounces in her seat and stage-whispers to Bowie, “But you know I’m right.”
She’s beaming when she turns back to me. “Come on. Admit it. You love me for finding you the perfect replacement roommate. Say it.”
