I met Lorelei downstairs, and while she chatted with Dean about the project, I admired her from afar. She dressed in workout pants and black running shoes and a long extra-large football sweatshirt. She wore her hair down and wore an orange headband thing, and she defined perfection. If someone asked me to draw the perfect woman for me, down to the outfit, it was this right here. Her.
My throat tightened, and I fisted my hand. She was Dean’s sister. My quarterback. My brother. Ifelthis gaze on me, and I quickly averted my attention from his sister to the ceiling. Running my hand over my jaw, I mumbled, “There’s a crack up there.”
“What are you saying?” Lorelei asked.
“What? Nothing.”Fuck.My face burned.
Dean stared as his phone, not me, thankfully.
There was a reason I‘d stayed away from her all week and yet, here I was, making more time for us to be together. It was torture, and she glanced up and smiled at me. “I made puppy chow!”
“Leave half of it with me since I let you live here.” Dean grabbed a handful, but she smacked his hand. “Come on, Lo. This is crack.”
“You can have whatever Luca doesn’t eat. He’s doing me a huge favor.” She snatched the bag from her brother and grinned at me. “It’s a rule in our house.Car rides longer than thirty minutes require snacks.It’s like one of our family’s guiding principles.”
“One time, we drove to Florida and went through how many bags of chips?” Dean said.
“Disgusting. You were an animal then.”
“Okay, princess, you weren’t?”
“Not as bad as you!”
“I was a growing teenage boy. I drank a gallon of milk a day. Clearly, the calories didn’t stay.” He admired his arms, and Lorelei rolled her eyes.
“You disgust me.”
“How’s finding another place to live going?”
“How’s being the uglier twin going?” she fired back.
I was utterly charmed. I loved how she gave her brother shit and never backed down. The image of her worry at being around her ex returned, and I hoped to never see that expression on her face. I liked her like this: loud and tough and witty.
Dean cackled and took a handful of the dessert and left to the living room. He hit my shoulder. “Can’t imagine a better person to keep her safe.”
“Right.” I nodded at him. The dude had no idea what was going on in my head or he wouldn’t allow this. He’d punch me in the face or make me move out. The thoughts I had about his sister were not healthy, that was for sure.
“Okay so are you a playlist kinda guy or a podcast guy? Wait, you’re a silence type, aren’t you? That’s a little serial killer for me, but it’ll be fine.” She clutched her laptop and water bottle, the bag of snacks hanging from her shoulder. I held out my hand.
“I’ll carry that.”
“You just want some. I knew it. Luca Monroe has a weakness for sweet things.”
“You have no idea,” I mumbled.
She laughed, but clearly, she didn’t get the meaning.
We loaded her stuff into my truck and headed onto the interstate toward the facility three hours away. We’d get there by four, and she had an hour or so of interviews set up before we’d have dinner with my grandma. No girl had ever met my grandma before. Not even when I dated someone for a year in high school. Lorelei would be the first.
“I teased you, but you didn’t answer. Are you a music guy or a podcast guy?”
“I’m pretty sure you said silence as an option too,” I teased and snuck a glance at her.
She scrunched her nose and shrugged, not looking the least bit ashamed. “Sure did. Who else drives three hours insilence?”
“I like true crime podcasts, actually.”
“Interesting turn of events.” She gaped. “Not… Sports Facts 101 or Football for the Ages?”
