The machine grinds and bogs down as it picks up something bigger than its hose can handle, but he’s undeterred, pushing onward toward us while he swings his hips back and forth.
One thing I know for sure: our housekeeper is going to be so pissed when she comes in to a broken vacuum and scuffed-up baseboards.
His gaze flickers up and locks on my mom and her ice-pack-covered hoochie, and he switches off the vacuum immediately, removing his headphones and tossing them among the other debris on the coffee table.
“What are we doing here?” He grins. “Cooking up my favorite meal?”
“Oh God,” I groan, and my mom laughs riotously.
“You wish. I’m sore from last night.”
“Sore? Did we fuck and I forgot about it? Pulled a you and fell asleep while my dick was still in ya?”
She shakes her head, and I don’t bother asking. In fact, I avoid asking so hard the job is practically a paid position.
“No, you big oaf. I pulled my groin trying to outdo your keg stand.”
“Ahh.” He nods proudly. “Yeah, your first mistake was trying to outdo me, sweetheart. You know that’s impossible.”
“Shut up. I don’t have the patience to argue with youandice my vageen, okay?”
My dad shrugs, latching on to my shoulder instead just as I’m about to escape. “What about you, son? Pretty big to-do last night. Did you have a good time?”
“Hardly,” I grumble under my breath before I can think better of it. The whole thing was a fucking debacle and a half, andI’mthe reason it even happened in the first place. Not only did Inotmake any progress with Julia, I earned myself fucking cleanup duty this morning while Gunnar is God knows where doing God knows what. And yet, even not knowing where he is, I know my fate from his revenge lingers in the distance like a sniper in the mist.
I’m scared. And shaken. And this is only the beginning.
“What? You didn’t have a good time?” My dad shakes his head. “Julia looked like she had a good time with that Chad guy.”
“Chad?” my mom asks, popping up from her forlorn spot and entering the conversation again. “Who’s Chad? I thought his name was Brad.”
“Chad, Brad, whatever.” Thatch just shrugs a shoulder. “He seemed like a cool dude.”
“Who?” I ask, only half cognizant of the conversation. I’m too busy picturing Finn and Scottie chumming it up on double date-ish terms while they chatted with Julia and whatshisface. And to think I’ve spent the last year considering Finnley Hayes my bestie. My brother from another mother.
He’ll be hearing of my feelings on his betrayal. That’s for sure.
“The guy Julia was with,” my mom clarifies helpfully, snapping me both into awareness and an All-American rage.
“Fuck that guy,” I say simply.
“Whoa, bud. I don’t know if we can condone this language,” my dad jokes, and I roll my eyes.
“His name isn’t Chad or Brad. And he’s not fucking cool. Not even a little bit.”
“Oh jeez, sorry, Mr. Name Police. Did I strike a nerve or what?” my dad asks, glancing over his shoulder at my mom conspiratorially.
I shake my head and move away to start collecting Solo cups while they continue to bicker back and forth.
“Go easy on him, you fuck,” my mom chastises. “Remember how pathetic you were when you were in love with me?”
“Pathetic?” my dad scoffs. “I was not pathetic. And what does love have to do with Chad?”
“Please!” my mom volleys back. “You were the most pathetic! You practically begged me to live with you. Sent me flowers all the time. Kept sleeping with me even though I continually fell asleep on you. You were desperate. Hard up.”
“Uh-uh, honey.” He waggles his finger at my mom. “I think your memory is taking creative liberties, because the way I remember it, you were the one doing the begging. You moved in with me without invitation, sentyourselfflowers from my dick, and got me a pig so you could baby-trap me.”
Philmore oinks with perfect timing, cruising through the room on the way to his playroom down the hall.
