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“I think it’s weird they’re dating.”
“They’re not dating.” I’m quick to jump in and contest his claims.
“I’m pretty sure I still remember what dating is, Lucy,” he says with a grin. “We can only assume he’s spending most of his time over there, and he doesn’t have time for his brother—they’re definitely dating.”
“Looks like he missed the memo then,” I mumble unhappily. When Sam waits for me to continue, I state, “Bros before hoes.”
He splutters up his coffee. “I don’t remember you being this funny.”
I don’t bother amending that he doesn’t remember me at all because his uncomfortable face reveals that he knows what I’m thinking.
“I still think it’s weird, and maybe a little unethical.” He has my attention. I place my iPad on the table, implying I’m listening. “Well, Saxismy identical twin. Does she findmeattractive?”
I cock an eyebrow. Is he fishing for a reaction? Of jealousy, maybe? Is he testing to see if I go all medieval and beat her ass for looking at my man? The sad part is, I don’t knowwhomy man is.
I’m saved by the bell, literally, as the doorbell sounds. Although the person seeking entrance is someone I’m not excited to see. I stand, leaving Sam’s question unanswered as I answer the door. Why can’t this woman have an ugly day? Every strand of hair sits perfectly straightened. Not a blemish or imperfection in sight.
“Good morning, Lucy.” She’s always in a good mood. Would it kill her to have a bad day once in a while? I don’t want to question why she looks overly chirpy this morning.
I open the door, begrudgingly welcoming her in. “Hi, Sophia.”
Usually, I would make small talk, but today, the only talk I would make is hounding her about Saxon’s whereabouts.
“It’s been two months since Samuel’s accident and I really think he’s making wonderful progress. Have you noticed he’s been more receptive of wanting to remember?” I stare at her ruby tinted lips, wondering if she left a mark on Saxon’s cheek when she kissed him goodbye.
Shaking my head to dislodge those thoughts, I reply, “Yes, definitely.” And that’s all she’s getting out of me.
I lead her down the hallway where Sam is happily waiting for her. It appears her milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. I need to stop this cattiness…now. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
I make a new pot of coffee and idly scour the internet on my cell. Piper’s text is a grateful distraction.
Wanna catch up? Miss you.
I miss her, too. Since that night with Saxon, I’ve purposely been staying away. She has been busy studying and working double shifts, but every time she suggests we catch up, I’ve always made an excuse not to.
I need my best friend.
Yes! Come around for dinner? Around7?
I’ll bethere!
She doesn’t ask who will be there because she doesn’t have to. The few times we’ve spoken, I’ve let drop that Saxon is never around.
My thoughts bite me in the ass however when the backdoor swings open and in strolls the devil. The cell slips from my fingers and scuttles along the kitchen floor. Did he come here with Sophia? The cell only stops once it bounces off his dirty boot. He peers down at it, unimpressed.
His distaste, as always, hurts my feelings and I quickly drop to a squat to pick it up, hoping to hide my sadness. But he gets there first. When he offers me the phone, I look at it, and then up at him suspiciously. What’s the catch?
He waves it at me, a half a smile tugging at his lips. A sight I haven’t seen for a long time. The cell lights up with a text message. He looks down at it. “Piper wants to know if she should bring cake.” The casual mention of her irritates me, and I snatch the phone from his hand.
“So you’re having dinner. How nice.” And out comes the asshole Saxon I’ve come to dislike. I don’t bother answering him and stand.
Opening the fridge, I reach for the carton of milk, which thanks to Saxon being MIA, is full. I make myself another cup of coffee, but don’t bother asking if he’d like one. “What time is dinner?”
The coffee goes down the wrong pipe and I choke. Tears sting my eyes as I thump my chest, attempting to breathe. “You want to come?” I ask, my voice croaky and winded.
“Sure.” He steals my coffee.
“Why?” I don’t hide my surprise.
