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Piper polishes off her coffee and gets up to pour another cup. "You want to go to breakfast or should I make oatmeal?"
"Make the oatmeal."
She nods and gets to fixing her beloved hot cereal. I don't know how she eats the stuff. It tastes like paste.
Piper's phone buzzes with another text. Then another. I try to keep my attention on my coffee—really, I do want to respect my sister's privacy—but her phone keeps buzzing.
The screen lights up.
That looks like it says Kit. But there's no fucking way she's stupid enough to just put his number in her phone like that.
She'd hide it, wouldn't she?
I try to play cool as she reaches for the phone. Her cheeks flush pink. She smiles as she taps a reply and sets her phone back on the counter.
Seconds later, it buzzes again. This time, I look closely enough I'm sure.
Kit: Sorry I missed that.
No.
He is not sorry he missed shit with Piper.
No fucking way.
Piper's hand comes down hard on the counter. She grabs her phone and slides it into her pajama pants pocket—her Hello Kitty pajama pants pocket.
She's a kid.
He's twenty-six.
She stares at me with accusation.
I stare back with the same accusation.
Neither one of us blinks until the microwave beeps. Piper turns back to her breakfast.
"Don't fucking tell me that's Kit Lockhart," I say.
"I'm not planning on telling you anything." Piper taps cinnamon into her oatmeal with a serene fuck you smile.
"He's twenty-six."
"I'm aware."
"You're nineteen."
"I'm aware of that as well."
"You have any idea how many women he's slept with?"
Piper rolls her eyes. "Less than you."
That's debatable.
Kit's fucked and thrown away enough women for me to be sure he's no good for Piper.
Kit is not getting within thirty feet of my little sister. Not unless me or Mal is around to keep them apart.
