Her smile sags, and a frown ruefully takes its place. I pull her back into my chest and noogie the top of her head. She tries to fight me off, but she isn’t putting in a real effort. As much as Jorgie acts like she hates being the baby of the family, on the inside, she loves every goddamn minute of it.
After a short time later, her grunts of annoyance turn into faint giggles, easing the heaviness weighing down my chest.
“Trust me, by tomorrow night you’ll be wondering what all the worry was about. He never shuts up about you and the baby. You are his every want and desire. That isn’t going to change because you shoved a basketball under your shirt.”
I grit my teeth when she uses my shirt as if it is a tissue before nodding her head.
A short time later, she lifts her head off my chest and takes a step backward. “Pregnancy hormones suck,” she says with a pout.
“Tell me about it,” I playfully jibe. “That’s why I’mneverhaving kids.”
She snarls at me before moving to the back entrance of the kitchen to check her face in the mirror. Once she is happy her makeup is in its rightful place, she gathers a stack of Tupperware containers off the entranceway table. I move to aid her in placing all the leftover food from brunch into the containers.
“Are you heading straight home after this?” I ask.
She nods. “I have a few things to do before your housewarming party,” she replies.
I cringe from the way she sayshousewarming party. To me, this afternoon’s get together at my place is a few mates cracking some cold beers in celebration of my new apartment. Calling it a housewarming party sounds like a bunch of old ladies sitting around drinking tea out of china teacups.
“Have you asked Ava?” Jorgie questions.
“To the party?” I reply, placing an overstuffed Tupperware container into a heated bag.
Jorgie snickers and shakes her head. I arch my brow and stare into her amused eyes, soundlessly advising I have no clue what she is referring to.
“Asked her out…out,” she says, overdramatizing the last word of her sentence.
I inwardly gag. “Am I twelve? That’s not how things work these days.”
Jorgie scoffs and rolls her eyes. “How is she supposed to know you like her if you don’t ask her out?”
“Who said I liked her?” Even I can hear the deceit in my voice.
Jorgie’s brows hit her hairline. “Do I look like I was born last century?”
“No, but you do sound like our mother,” I tease.
An abrupt puff of air leaves my mouth when Jorgie punches me in the arm. “Deny it all you want, Hugo. You can’t fight fate.”
I chuckle and rub my arm, feigning injury.
Jorgie places her hand on her cocked hip. “Don’t think I haven’t notice the new look you’re sporting. You’ve got that loved-up puppy dog look you had on your face years ago when I interrupted you in my room with Ava.”
I roll my eyes but don’t negate her statement. Any time I'm around Ava, I turn into the teenage boy who pinned her against the door, dying to taste her lips. If Jorgie hadn’t interrupted us that night, I wouldn’t have been able to fight Ava’s alluring pull anymore.
Jorgie peers up at me while placing the final Tupperware container into a heat warming bag. “If you don’t hurry up and snag her, someone else will,” she warns.
My teeth grit as an absurd rush of heat surges through my veins. Before I can configure a reason for my insane reaction, Ava and my mom enter the kitchen, juggling large stacks of dirty dishes. An intangible string of emotions pummel me when Ava’s eyes lift to me and she smiles.
It’s hard to believe, but it truly feels like the past six years vanished with a snap of my fingers. I'm once again a teenage boy chasing after a beautiful girl. When Ava bends over to collect a tea towel from the ground, exposing inches of her smooth thighs, my desire to taste every inch of her turns rampant.
Jorgie cranks her head to the side. “Hey, Ava, did you need a lift home?” Her tone comes out super high, exposing her excitement.
Ava places a stack of white crockery plates onto the sink before shifting on her feet to face Jorgie. “Yeah, sure, that will be great. When are you leaving?” she asks with a smile.
“Now,” Jorgie replies, loading my arms up with the Tupperware containers we just finished filling.
An adorable smile stretches across Ava’s face. “Great. Let me grab my stuff?”
