She pops me with the towel, and we chat about the classes I just finished until Layla comes in. She walks in the kitchen andpins me with a bewildered stare. “Lucy? Um, did you bring a really big guy?”
Ohhh, Layla. Even at sixteen, she’s still the awkward middle child who always thinks she’s missing something.
I tilt my head like a confused puppy and laugh at her strange question. “Um, hi to you too. Sorry, no. I didn’t bring you any guys. Maybe next time?”
“No.” Her cheeks turn pink as she pushes chocolate-brown curls off her glasses and shakes her head. “There’s this, like, really big guy shooting hoops with Jamie, so I walked down there to see why this guy was hanging out with a twelve-year-old, and he said he was your brother and Jamie was laughing, so I know they’re messing with me, but ...”
“What?” I say, completely lost until the front door flies open.
Jamie yells, “Hey, Lucy!” in his crackly preteen voice followed by a much more confident voice that practically sings,“Honeyyy, I’m home!”in a deep Southern drawl.
I pull my lips between my teeth and my eyes snap to Mom. Her eyes narrow, because I just said “no promises,” and now she thinks I’ve sprung a guest on her.
A big one, apparently.
We walk around the dividing wall to the living room and oh, yeah. That’s a big one.
“Sam! What are you doing here?” The minute the words are out of my mouth, I know exactly what’s coming.
He looks me dead in the eyes and clears his throat to deepen his voice. “Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days.”
Everyone gathers in the living room, and I shake my head, breaking into a grin at his antics.
Sam wraps a big arm around me and starts messing up my hair as Liza bursts into a fit of giggles.
“Oh, my WORD!” she squeals, jumping off her beanbag in the corner of the room to check out the entertainment. “Whoareyou?” she asks, giggling, because without a doubt, Liza Jane Brooks is the only other person in this house of cartoons and sitcoms who’d watch Supernatural. A show she’s entirely too young to watch, in my opinion.
I press my lips together in a smirk. “This is Sam.”
Liza jumps up, laughing. “That’s Dean’s line.”
“Well …thisis Sam. Cross my heart.” I’m laughing too because he’s such a dork and she’s clearly impressed.
Sam breaks character to bear-hug me and put an arm around Mom, then he fist-bumps an elated Liza and a still very confused Layla. He has met my mom and Jamie. They brought my desk to the townhouse last year, and Sam helped move it in. Then Jude removed a broken keyboard tray and reassembled the drawer tracks while the boys tossed a football outside for an hour.
It was an oddly domestic scene, but girls stayed home that time, so they hadn’t met Sam.
“Mom, this is an ironic and unfortunate coincidence.” I giggle uncontrollably. “I swear I didn’t know. I thought he was in Nashville. Annie went home, and I left food for the guys. I didn’t think anyone would follow me.”
She glares at me with a hint of amusement. I can tell she doesn’t believe me for a second.
She’s also not mad. Everyone loves Sam.
“It’s fine.” She pats Sam on the back. “We’re glad you’re here. Are you staying for dinner?”
He looks at me to answer Mom’s question since he just crash-landed on my weekend. “Yeah, he’ll stay.”
He grins and follows me to the kitchen.
Cookeville’s on the way to Nashville. I should’ve seen this coming.Someoneprobably could’ve told me. Sam and I begin setting the table and pouring drinks, not so different than howwe do this at home at least once a week. He still lives in the dorms, but we feed him regularly.
“How’d you find me?” I ask as I hand him napkins and silverware. “Did you turn my location on when you had my phone?”
“You think I’d do that, Smalls? That hurts. Danny did it.”
I roll my eyes. This doesn’t surprise me. Probably when we were dealing with my car. It’s funny how the definition of stalking changes according to how much you like the suspect. I pull out my phone and shoot the perp a text.
Me:If you’re gonna stalk me, at least have the decency to do it yourself.
