“Not you, Brooke.” Elise’s tone softens the instant she looks at her. “You can do no wrong in my eyes. This asshole,” she says while jabbing a perfectly manicured finger directly at me, “is the reason I’m late. Again.”
Beau rolls his eyes. “Here we fucking go.” He turns on his heel and walks back toward his car, dragging his phone from his pocket as he answers a call.
I lift both eyebrows and lean against the doorframe, already preparing myself for whatever argument she plans to start next.
“And where exactly do you think you’re going?”
Elise doesn’t answer right away. She gives the most exaggerated eye roll I have ever seen, the kind only a teenager can pull off.
Then she groans and shifts Mila toward me.
“Here. Hold your kid.”
She passes my daughter over like she is handing off a particularly clingy purse. I take Mila, adjusting her against my chest with ease before pressing a kiss into the top of her curls.
She lets out a soft, satisfied sigh and settles immediately, her cheek resting against my chest while her tiny hand grips the front of my shirt.
“I’m going on a date,” Elise announces while already stomping toward the hallway like the discussion is finished.
“What?” I lift my hand and gently cover Mila’s ears. “Who the fuck said you could go on a date?”
Brooke reaches over and smacks my arm, her eyebrows lifting in warning. “Seth. She’s almost eighteen. She can go on a date.”
“Thank you,” Elise calls out while spinning around dramatically. “See? This is why I love her more. She doesn’t try to lock me in a tower guarded by psychos.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “That can be arranged.”
Without even pausing she fires back, “It wouldn’t be any worse than living under your fascist dickhead curfew.”
I open my mouth, ready to respond, but she keeps going.
“You were probably late because you were fucking Brooke in the car or something.”
I lift my hand and flip her off.
Brooke bursts out laughing beside me, barely managing to cover her mouth.
“On any other day you would be right,” I mutter. “But nottonight.”
Elise groans loudly and slaps both hands over her ears. “Oh my God, that’s disgusting.”
Mila squirms in my arms, completely uninterested in the argument happening over her head. Her small hands grab at the collar of my shirt while she lets out a quiet string of sounds that mean nothing and somehow still feel important.
Elise lowers her hands slowly, narrowing her eyes at me.
“Seriously though,” she says, shifting her weight to one hip. “You two disappeared for hours. Again. Do you realize how suspicious that looks?”
Brooke leans against the wall beside me, her arms folding across her chest while she watches Elise with a tired smile. “We told you we had errands.”
Elise snorts. “Your errands always involve coming home smelling like smoke and dead bodies.”
I glance down at my sleeve and brush a bit of soot off the cuff.
Brooke doesn't even bother denying it.
“That is circumstantial,” she says calmly.
Elise stares at both of us for a long moment before shaking her head in dramatic disappointment.
