“What, you’ll tack on an extra five hundred percent?”
I laughed and no longer regretted calling Jerome. “Seriously, life is getting crazy right now. I need you to handle this.”
The crews were partially finished with his building. He needed to be here to finalize the last few pieces. And then as he’d agreed, live here permanently. It shouldn’t be a huge ask for him to pick up the mess he made.
“Does your crazy start with K and have blonde hair?”
It’s always the direction he went to first… And sadly, it was usually correct. “Jerome, not now.”
He sighed as another car honked, and I fixed the pillow behind me. “I’m looking out for you, Pierce. You’re my favorite cousin. You need to get over Katy. Think of the women you are missing out on in life. With anyone else you’d be settled and have ten kids by now.”
I lifted my shoulders and cringed at the idea even though Jerome couldn’t see me. I didn’t hate the idea of children in the future, but not ten of them. Kids were best in small numbers. I grew up an only child, and I had a wonderful experience.
“It’s not about that and you know it.” I didn’t plan to explain to him what it was about—and didn’t know myself if I was being honest—but Jerome wouldn’t ask.
“I’ll finish packing my place here and put everything in storage. Then I can get a long-term room at your fancy bed-and-breakfast when I get to Pelican Bay and we’ll party.”
I laughed and pictured Jerome dressed up as an American colonist from 1776. He had no idea what people in Pelican Bay considered a party. They used every excuse in the book to put on period costumes and walk Main Street calling it a parade. This side of America had a lot of history to celebrate and they didn’t waste a second making sure everyone participated.
“You’ve been obsessed with Katy for years and she’s been nothing but a thorn in your side.”
“You have no idea,” I said rubbing the spot above my eye on my forehead, which always tingled when I complained about Katy.
“Well at least you’re seeing it. That is a huge improvement.” He didn’t realize that I always saw it. I’d tried to get over her more than once. I’d dated, been interested in girls, thrown myself into work, taken long lavish vacations, but somehow, I always came back to Katy.
“We need to get you on one of those sites,” he said.
“No. Absolutely not. I am not making a dating profile.” We’d gone over this. Many times.
“Fine,” he said sounding annoyed. “I’ll make it for you.”
At that point arguing with him grew pointless. When Jerome put his mind to something, he would see it through, regardless of who told him it was a horrible idea. Hence building a ten-story building in Pelican Bay.
“Just make sure you’re here Monday.” The conversation turned sour for me again and I wanted nothing more than to get off the phone. The traffic noise in the background grew louder as if Jerome walked down the middle of the street. “Yes, Dad.”
We ended the call with another promise from him that I’d see him bright and early Monday morning. A part of me held my breath. It couldn’t be this easy.
By the time I wanted to see Katy again, morning sun shone brightly on the street in front of her home. The bag from the diner rustled in my hands as I made short work of the steps to her door. I knocked, and Katy opened it willingly, which was a first.
I shoved the bag of food in her face and waited until she opened her hands before I dropped it into them. “Breakfast.”
I may have been doing something nice for her, but I wasn’t ready for a full-on conversation. If I spoke too much, I’d yell.
She jiggled the bag. “I don’t want your charity,” she said stepping back into her home.
I used it as my chance to walk in as well and she didn’t stop me. That was the problem. Even though Katy’s words may have been telling me off, every move her body made was acceptance. She called me a horrible person, but let me come into her home. She told me she hated me, but let me stick my head between her legs and eat at her like a buffet.
“It’s not charity. Eat it before it gets cold.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Ugh. Always a struggle. I’d win in the end but not before she put up a good argument each and every time. I didn’t have the strength for it that morning. “So, you didn’t steal the oranges from my kitchen last night?” It was a low blow, but the ransacked way she left my counter didn’t go unnoticed this morning.
Katy smirked, not upset by my nasty comment. In fact, every time I said mean things to her, it almost seemed to turn her on. She loved a good fight, and we’d sparred for years. I hoped one of these times she didn’t knock me out.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m not hungry.”
She smiled, waiting for me to reply, but her expression drew me in and I lost focus. When she let her genuine feelings shine—usually after a snotty comment to me—she had this particular smile she used afterward. It could make me do anything for her.
