“When can we talk about your sister? Are you a hands-off-my-sister kind of guy, or is it open season?” Easton laughs, walking backward in the opposite direction.
“Fuck you, East.” I flip him off.
He laughs until he’s almost at our building while I use my phone to order an Uber that comes in minutes, thank God.
When I’m in the back seat, I wonder if I should message Leighton, then wonder if the phone number I have for her is still hers. It’s been years since we’ve called or texted one another, and even then, it was only on a group thread with Callie.
By the time I’m done debating, the Uber pulls up alongside a parked car by the curb outside their house. Guess the decision is made—my visit will be a surprise.
I thank the Uber driver, step out, and stand on the sidewalk, taking in the place. All the lights are on inside the house, and I spot Lincoln through the window, throwing a ball against the wall.
I jog up the stairs and knock on the door. The door opens almost immediately, and my gaze tracks down to Monroe.
“Monroe!” I recognize the voice as her big sister Lake’s. She rushes into the entry area, sliding to a stop on her socks when she sees me. Lake quickly gets over her surprise and turns her attention to Monroe. “You know not to answer the door.”
“I thought it was my bubble tea,” Monroe whines.
“Doesn’t matter.” She slides in front of her little sister, urging Monroe behind her.
Lincoln peeks around Lake’s shoulders, eyes wide. “Hayes?”
Lake bats her hands to keep him back, as if I’m a serial killer posing as a duct cleaning service, then she crosses her arms. “She’s not here.”
She sure gives off teenager vibes for an eleven-year-old. Or maybe this is what they’re all like these days, thanks to social media.
“Yes, she is,” Lincoln says.
Monroe peeks her head between her older sister’s legs. “She’s upstairs because she needs a goddamn minute to herself.”
I have to press my lips together not to laugh at hearing that phrase come out of a six-year-old’s mouth.
“Lake made her cry,” Lincoln says.
The sister in question whips her head around. “I did not.”
I remember being on the receiving end of looks just like that with my own sister back in the day. “Okay, guys, can I come in?”
“No.” Lake spears me with a look.
“Tell me it’s the bubble tea.” I hear Leighton before I see her walking down the stairs.
“Even better! It’s Hayes!” Lincoln makes me feel as if my number was retired and my jersey is hanging at Webber Field.
“Oh.” Her surprised voice doesn’t exactly sound happy. “Lake, you can go. I’ll handle him.”
I keep my gaze steady on Lake, and her eyes narrow for a minute before she steps back. Monroe gets caught in her legs and screams. Lake doesn’t let her go right away, shuffling her feet out of the foyer.
“Lake,” Leighton says in a very stern, very motherly tone.
“She has to learn at some point.” She swings a leg over Monroe, who is on all fours. “I’ll be upstairs.”
Monroe steps past me out onto the porch and looks both ways down the street. She crosses her arms and huffs. “Where’s the bubble tea man?”
I try to keep my eyes on the little girl, but Leighton is a fucking sight. If my sister knew the temptation she was putting in front of me tonight, she would’ve thought twice about calling me for help. Leighton is wearing a pink-and-white striped matching pajama set. The pants are thin and loose but still show off her figure. Her undershirt is tight and white, showing a sliver of her stomach because she hasn’t buttoned up the pajama top, so it hangs open on both sides.
She’s gone from girl next door to hot as fuck. Of course, Easton noticed her that day in the hospital.
Leighton crosses her arms like the other two girls in this house did. “What do you want?”
