My head dips down as I smile to myself, opening the drawer where the spoons are, and I grab two, placing one in her coffee and another in mine.
“Smile like that,” I say, looking directly at her. “Your face…it just—it lights up. I don’t know, Dem. It’s literally one of my favorite things.” The admission falls so simply from my lips, but it’s just skimming the surface of everything I want to say to her. I can’t properly explain right now how crazy I am about everything when it comes to her.
The two of us hold eye contact for what feels like an eternity, neither bothering to take a sip of the drinks or make any movements. Looking at her, I can see there are a million things running through her mind. Her eyes are full of walls, boundaries, and things she wants to keep to herself.
I’ve never asked about her divorce from Brandon. I never felt it was my business. When some things came out last year, I had many thoughts running through my mind about what I’d do if I ever saw him out. The questions I’d want to ask him. The pain I’d like to inflict on him. But unless Demi ever opens the door and wants to discuss it, it’s off the table as far as I’m concerned.
In the space between us, Summer reaches for the milk carton. “I love your makeup, Demi.”
Demi quickly clears her throat as she pivots her attention to Summer. “Oh, thank you. I’m not very good at it. Thank god for online tutorials.” She tips her coffee toward Summer, but her eyes flick back to me.
“Anyone who can draw on a cat eye deserves a standing ovation.” Summer pours the milk into three small cups before adding chocolate syrup.
What the fuck is a cat eye?My brows crease as I stare at Demi’s face. I have no clue what they’re talking about.
From the corner of my eye, I see Demi tilt her head down with a faint smile. She gives me a subtle nod as she stands.
“I’m going to do a lap, see if I know anyone else here. Thanks for the coffee.” Her dark eyes hold mine for an instant before she walks around the island toward the sliding glass door, and my head falls back.
“She looks really pretty,” Summer says, stating the absolute fucking obvious.
My head turns slowly to her as she stirs the cups of chocolate milk for the kids.
“Tell me something I don’t know, Kincaid.” I pull my hand through my hair as a low groan leaves my chest.
Summer shakes her head as she laughs to herself. “Hey, Siri, play ‘Sucker’ by theJonas Brothers.”
“You think you’re making fun of me, but joke’s on you. I love the Jonas Brothers, and Iama sucker for her.” My arms cross over my chest as I smirk.
“You ask her out yet?”
“Well, someone interrupted our conversation.” I glare down at her before softening my stare. “But don’t worry, I will,” I add, staring at Demi through the glass.
Summer pats my forearm. “Don’t dilly-dally. Looking like that, she’s definitely going to have some suitors.”
“Somesuitors? What fucking year is it?”
She laughs before grabbing all three cups, carefully holding them in her hands. I motion to take one from her to help, but she shakes her head.
“Also, what the fuck is a cat eye?”
“Oh, Liam.” She sighs with a smile. “Why don’t you go ask her?” Summer wiggles her eyebrows at me as she turns to walk out of the kitchen.
There are muffled conversations happening around me as I back away from the kitchen with my coffee in hand. I usually drink my coffee black, but decided to add whatever Demi liked in hers to mine too. I don’t even know why the fuck I drink it black to begin with. Probably some bullshit my dad drilled into me about not needing the extra stuff.
The dark leather loveseat in the living room is filled with kids. Chase’s daughter is sitting on one cushion while Nate and Mia’s twin boys are sprawled out on the other. All three arguing over what to watch.
“Scoot over. Make some room for Uncle Liam.”
As soon as I sit down, all three of them pile on top of me.
“Wrestle?” Luke puts both fists in the air.
“We don’t wrestle with fists. What’s your daddy teaching you?” I joke, pulling his arm lightly and knocking it to the side. “I’m sure you’ve got a mean right hook, big man, but save it for your dad.”
He laughs and jumps on me as CeCe rests her head on my shoulder and changes the television to something she wants to watch.
“Smart girl,” I whisper to her as the boys continue rough housing.
