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What was she doing?
“I told J.R. to leave it up there for you,” she explained. “But I feel like I should amend it to say way more than just a thank-you, since Dominic is basically a different kid now. Seriously, what did you do to him? He seems…kind of happy. It’s awesome.”
“You had this waitin’ on me,” I repeated, reading the ticket again, then lifting my eyes to her. “You didn’t need to do that.”
“And you didn’t need to help me.” She cocked her head, then shook it. “It would’ve bugged me if I hadn’t done something. I’m a thank-you note kind of girl. Sorry that one’s kind of bland and boring. I was limited without my stationery supplies. I can redo it, if it sucks…”
“No,” I mumbled, stuffing the ticket into my back pocket before she took it from me.
Christ. I needed help.
Shayla dropped her elbow to the ledge and smiled. “Mm.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” She bit her bottom lip, fighting a grin. “So, Dominic…it worked, huh?”
“Putting holes in walls does wonders,” I replied, pulling the next ticket down and reading an actual order on that one.
“He told me you said he could keep coming over and helping out. That’s really cool of you.”
I shrugged. “House needs a lot of work done. It’s nothin’.”
“It’s not nothing,” she argued, lifting my gaze off the ticket. “It’s not even close to nothing. And we’re just going to leave it at that, ’cause this argument could go on for days.”
I stared at her. Shayla didn’t fight that grin anymore and gave it to me.
And then, I don’t know why the fuck I did it, maybe it was because she was grinning and I wanted to keep her that way, or maybe I’d officially lost my mind, but I did it again. I got up in her shit. She wasn’t asking a damn thing of me, and it didn’t matter. I couldn’t stop myself.
“Hey,” I barked over my shoulder.
J.R. paused stirring something in a saucepan, and peered behind him. “’Sup?”
“You got nights this week?”
“I got whatever. I told you—my shit is relaxed.”
Getting my answer, I turned back to Shayla. “You decide what you need from me,” I said. “Who I’m takin’ wherever or picking up. I don’t care. You take one. I’ll take the other. Just tell me what you want me to do. I’ll do it.”
Shayla blinked, most of that smile already gone from her, and the rest slowly slipping away. “My God. I’m gonna need to make another run to Michael’s before the week’s up,” she said.
I didn’t know what the fuck that meant, but she didn’t give me time to inquire.
Hopping down, Shayla reached around the soda dispenser and produced the folder she’d shown me the other day. Then she boosted herself back up and flipped the folder open on the window lip.
She showed me the schedule again, pointing out which brother had what going on and where, and we split it up how she wanted it. No questions asked.
Shayla didn’t get on me again about why I was helping her, and I didn’t ask myself again what the fuck I was doing.
We left it at that.Chapter NineSHAYLAIt was Friday night, and I had a major hankering for pizza.
Though, if I was being honest, I knew it wasn’t just the hankering that had me suggesting the idea to the boys after Eli and I picked Dominic up after his math tutoring.
Pizza wasn’t just delicious and a huge hit with my brothers, especially pizza from Frank’s, who killed it in the crust game. Pizza was also a portable food, and I needed a portable food if I was going to surprise Sean with dinner.
He had helped me out in a major way this week. Not only were the boys’ afterschool activities covered without a hitch, thanks to Sean taking Eli for me while I took care of Dom and vice versa, but Dominic had gone over Sean’s house several days to continue working out his anger, and now he was damn near pleasant to be around.
And Sean was to thank for that.
I wanted to do something unexpected for him. What better way was there than showing up with a couple pies from Frank’s, some ice-cold beverages, and fresh treats from Duck Donuts?
After confirming with Tori that Sean was not at work and getting affirmative yeses on the pizza and donut plan from the boys, I called in our order and drove us to Frank’s.
“Wait here. I’ll just be a minute,” I told my brothers, leaving the car running and getting out after grabbing money out of my bag.
I headed inside the small pizza shop, which didn’t look like much on the outside, but looks were deceiving. Everyone knew Frank’s Pizza kicked ass. And since it was Friday night and everyone knew Frank’s Pizza kicked ass, the place was mobbed.
