“Yeah, hold on.” I turned to Lydia. “It’s Luke. He’s looking for you.”
“Actually, you can put me on speaker. This might affect both of you,” Luke said.
An ominous feeling settled in my gut. I didn’t like the sound of that.
11
Sebastian
One day, my ass. Based on Luke’s update, they were looking at a major overhaul of the entire bathroom plumbing, including having to remove and replace the drywall in the bedroom Lydia had been staying in.
“Whit said that he’ll get started right away on the plumbing, and Reid is going to shift some things around in his schedule to do the construction. We’re looking at a few weeks, though, at a minimum.”
Lydia’s eyes cut over to me quickly. Worry and anxiety were etched on her face.
“Luke, that sucks,” she said, commiserating with him. “Are you and Scarlett staying at Reid’s for now?”
“Yeah. He asked me earlier if he should start getting another room set up for you. I told him I would talk to you about it. I wasn’t sure if you just wanted to go back to Dad’s for bit, or what.”
She made a face like she really didn’t want to, her fingers fiddling with the bottom hem of that T-shirt. I pulled my eyes away from where they danced across her creamy thigh,focusing on the conversation.
“I guess that makes the most sense. I don’t want to put Reid and Claire out with more houseguests. I can always move back in with Dad,” she said with false positivity.
“I’m sorry, Lyds.” Luke sounded genuinely upset to give her the bad news.
“Don’t be. It happens. Let me know when I can get back over there to collect some things.”
We finished getting the update from Luke and disconnected the call. Lydia hopped her five-foot-two self onto the counter in a huff, her head falling back to hit the kitchen cabinets behind her.
“Ugh. I really didn’t want to go back to my dad’s. He’s great. You know that. But I’m almost thirty, and he still treats me like his little girl. And now with Sheila there… it’s like I’m an outsider wherever I go,” she sighed. “This has to be a sign from the universe that I’m not supposed to be here. From New York to Dad’s, from Dad’s to Luke’s, from Luke’s to here, from here back to Dad’s… maybe I should just head back to the city.”
Panic clawed at my throat. Her brothers would be devastated if she packed up and left again. Honestly, I would be too.
“You’re not going back to the city just because you’re out of a room for a few weeks. And you’re not going back to sit in your childhood bedroom under your father’s roof,” I said, stepping between her legs. That certainly got her attention. She looked me up and down, her breath hitched as her legs spread the tiniest bit wider to let me in. “The only place you’re going is into that fucking room to put on some fucking pants before I lose my fucking mind.”
“I thought you thought of me like your sister,” she countered, her voice breathier than it was a moment ago.
My eyes narrowed. “Those were Luke’s words, not mine.” A tattoo sat high on her upper thigh, begging me to rub my thumb across it. Her words were a good reminder though. Lydia was off-limits. I hadn’t done a very good job of keeping that line intact in the past, but I couldn’t blame the hormones of a twenty-year-old or copious amount of alcohol consumption at 8:30 in the morning.
I stepped back and jammed my finger into the coffee maker to finally get the pot going, busying myself in the fridge until Lydia slid from the counter to her feet and strode to her bedroom.
She had only slept in there one night, but it was hers now, for as long as she needed it.
* * *
The door closed behind me with the lightest click. I ticked my boots off at the door, keeping the lights off, even though Lydia would already be asleep. Luke and I had gone out for a couple of drinks, which turned into a couple of shots, which turned into us closing down Harpoon’s.
I shucked my jacket off and hung it on the back of the couch on my way by. Bright lights blinded my vision in an instant. My footsteps fumbled, and I straightened my back, ready to attack.
“Oh, are you home?” Lydia asked non-nonchalantly as she walked past me.
A tiny scrap of fabric covered her full tits, her legs bare again. Images of her that night, our night, raced through my foggy head.
“What are you doing up? It’s 3:00 in the morning.”
“Just getting water, Seb.” Her legendary attitude was in full swing, and I didn’t need this shit. I was tired and frustrated. My card was declined at the fucking bar, and I had to try to save face by saying that I got a new card and forgot to swap it out. Luckily, Luke had me covered, but no man wanted to find himself in that spot. And now Lydia was strolling around my house, blinding me, and ramping up my frustration in a totally different sense.
Are pants really that hard to wear?
