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Honkingand the smell of bacon stir me from my fitful rest, and it takes a moment for me to remember where I am.
“Morning, sunshine!” Samantha calls out from her kitchen. She’s far too cheery and loud, and I wince at the sound of her voice.
“Fuck, how much did you make me drink last night?” I groan as I sit up, squinting against the late morning sun streaming into her living room. My back twinges in protest and my head pounds like someone’s taking a jackhammer to it. I’m too old to be passing out on couches.
“Hmm, I lost count after Maggie dared you to do shots.”
“Ugh, great.” With great effort, I stand up and head over to join her in the kitchen. Bacon sizzles in a cast-iron skillet and she’s cooking oatmeal in a pot beside it. “You must really feel bad for me if you’re cooking me breakfast.”
Samantha shrugs, flipping the bacon and turning to face me. “I’ll put it on your tab. Along with the bill for dry cleaning your snot off my favorite jacket.”
I pour us both a glass of water, then dig through the basket of meds she keeps on top of her fridge to look for something to dull my throbbing headache. “Sure…no problem.”
“Wow, you must really feel rough. You’re not even arguing with me!”
I glare at her. “Do you want me to?”
Her face softens into a rare, gentle expression, and I don’t enjoy having it directed at me. Because it means she knows things are bad enough that she shouldn’t be a dick. “No. I want you to tell me what happened last night. I want you to tell me why you moved away. Max, I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be worr—”
“Don’t give me that shit! You’re my best friend and you won’t even talk to me. I’m allowed to be worried.”
My mouth falls open in surprise. It takes a moment to process that my sister, the one who actively antagonizes me every chance she gets, just told me I’m her best friend. Affection squeezes my chest. Since the day I was born, I’ve craved her friendship. I smile. “It’s sad for you that I’m your best friend.”
“I know.” She lets out a long-suffering sigh. We bring our breakfast over to her tiny kitchen table and start to eat in silence. She’s practically vibrating with the urge to harass me about what’s going on, but she keeps her mouth shut. That show of effort gives me the courage to explain things.
I start from the beginning. She already knew about the lost friendships as a kid, but not the full extent of the bullying I endured. As the closest in age to me, Samantha distanced herself from me as much as possible, so she didn’t have to hang out with her lame little brother.
The dating pitfalls are also familiar to her. She’s faced a lot of the same reactions to being part-succubus, but instead of fighting it, she’s embraced the reputation, breaking hearts and screwing whoever she pleases.
But when I get to telling her about what happened with Devon and Jessica—the night that made me leave the city, she’s shocked. “What?! But Devon acted like he was just as in love with you as he was with Jessica. Maggie and I used to bet on when he’d finally admit his feelings to you.”
“Gods, you didn’t, did you? Doesn’t matter. Turns out those feelings weren’t real.”
“I doubt that. It probably freaked him out after you slept together, and he couldn’t deal with the consequences of opening that door with you. Or sharing you with his girlfriend. Fuck that bastard—he doesn’t deserve you. Neither does Jessica, for that matter.”
I’d never thought about it that way. It only makes his behavior last night that much more infuriating.
“Okay, so that’s why you left. What happened last night?”
My stomach clenches painfully and my head throbs harder at the prospect of reliving last night. I barely make it through as I explain how I didn’t tell Mona about being part-succubus and recount running into Devon and Jessica in the alley.
Samantha’s face grows more and more pale as I speak, and she looks as sick as I feel by the time I’m done. “Those motherfucking pieces of shit! If I ever see that shifter garbage and his pathetic fairy girlfriend, I’m going to rip them a new one.”
I don’t doubt that she would. After what happened, I don’t think I have it in me to dissuade her. “They don’t matter. All that matters is that I wasn’t honest with Mona, and now she’ll probably never speak to me again.”
Samantha gives me her second sympathetic look of the morning. “Don’t look at me like that!” I say with a groan.
“Fine! I was going to say something nice like Claire would, but never mind!” She crosses her arms and glares at me. “You screwed up. You let your hangups and baggage get in the way. Stop moping and figure out how to make amends. Unless you want to spend the rest of your life feeling sorry for yourself. Then, by all means, have fun. Either way, I have things to do, so it’s time for you to go home.”
Despite her aggressive words, the weight on my chest lightens somewhat. “Fine.” I stand and dump my dishes in the sink, then grab my keys and coat. When I get to the door, I pause. “I’m not paying for the dry cleaning. I did you a favor, ruining that hideous jacket.”
“Ugh, just get out of here, loser!”
My smile grows at her bluster. “Love you too, Sam.”
