The front door closes with a soft click as I approach them.
“Hungry? Caleb ordered pizza.”
Quinn looks over at me. His dark brown hair is in need of a trim, but he refuses to let me take him anywhere.
“Pizza sounds good.” He punches his brother, who removes one of his earbuds. “Pizza?”
It’s the only word Casen needs to hear before he’s up and moving toward the kitchen.
“We’ll go to the grocery store tomorrow,” I tell them. “Start thinking about what you want—but keep in mind the budget is tight.”
“Sure thing, Cap.” Casen salutes me.
I assume Cap is short for Captain, but honestly, one never knows when it comes to him.
The boys sit at the table, one of my better thrift-store finds, and dig into the pizza.
“Caleb went next door to get drinks for us, so be sure to tell him thank you when he gets back.”
When neither looks up from the pizza they’re inhaling or deigns to respond, I snap my fingers in front of each of their faces.
“Hey, did you hear me?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Quinn says.
“We’ll be sure to thank the new neighbor,” Casen says, “but I think it’syouhe’s hoping for a thank-you from, not us.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
Casen laughs, nearly choking on his pizza. “I mean, the new neighbor dude clearly wants in your pants.”
I snort. That’s preposterous.Imight’ve checked him out, but there’s no way he was doing the same. He’s older by at least a few years and way out of my league. From what I’ve seen already, he has his life together. Me? I’m nowhere close. His clothes look expensive and his car is newer, so he must make good money.
A guy who looks like him and has a good job? There’s no way he doesn’t have a girlfriend.
I snort. “Yeah, right.”
They exchange a look in that annoying, secret twin telepathy way they have.
With a huff, I change the subject. “I thought we could goto the hardware store tomorrow. Pick out some paint. What do you think?”
Again, with the silent twin exchange.
“Okay,” Quinn says. “Can we paint our room neon green?”
My instinct is to cringe, but I bite back the reaction. He’s just trying to get under my skin. “Sure. Whatever color you want.”
Hopefully they go with something more palatable than neon green, but they’re the ones who’ll have to live with it, not me. If they want to fuck with me, it’ll be to their own detriment.
At the sound of the front door, I navigate my way through the kitchen to the foyer.
“Wow,” I remark when I catch sight of the plastic bag full of drinks. “You didn’t need to bring all that.”
Caleb shrugs. “I always overstock when Costco has a sale.”
“Right.” I bite my lip. “Well, thank you.”
He follows me back into the kitchen and opens the fridge. “What do you guys want?” he asks over his shoulder as he sets several waters and a variety of sodas on the top shelf.
