The one that lights up her eyes to a warm, soft caramel and pinkens her cheeks from the force of it. It forms adorable creases around her lips and somehow makes her entire body seem electric with happiness.
That smile is like a drug. Addicting, high-inducing, and deadly.
For me, at least.
Fuck. A sting burns through my finger as the knife slices into my skin. Blood gathers on the tip, proving to me once again how dangerous and distracting thoughts of Lena are.
Auggie saunters into the kitchen as I press a paper towel over my finger. He notices my hand and smirks. “Did Lena cut you?”
As I huff a laugh, she walks in behind Auggie and smacks the back of his head. “If I’d gotten to him, you’d be driving him to the hospital right now.”
Auggie’s eyes flare wide in a look that saysoh shit, man.
Bea whips around from the stove and points her wooden spoon at Lena. A bit of creamy soup plops to the hardwood floors, but she ignores it. “Lena,” she snaps, her brows stitched together. “He is family. We don’t cut family.”
I can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes my throat.
Lena grabs a can of sparkling water out of the fridge. “You think I’ve never said something like that to Auggie?” She scoffs as she pops open the can and leans her hips on the counter beside her mother. “Pretty sure you were there when I told him I was going to cut his ears off if he didn’t start using them.”
Auggie’s laughter gusts out of him as he snatches the sparkling water out of her hand and swallows a huge gulp of it.
She finally meets my stare from across the kitchen, and something warm and heady zaps between our gazes. I hold it as long as I can, my curious eyes pinned to her assessing ones, trying to stand up to the weight of whatever she’s thinking, but I can’t tell what’s going on inside that brain of hers.
I used to be able to, but right now, it’s a mystery.
And it’s unsettling.
The cloth around my finger dampens as the blood soaks through, and I’m forced to drop my gaze, breaking the connection and leaving the kitchen in search of a bandage.
3
LENA
“You either sleep in the studio or on the couch,” Mama says, squinting as she studies the pot of what I’m guessing is potato soup, judging by the onion and garlic aroma filling the kitchen.
Groaning, I swallow a sip of my drink. “Your studio is a disaster. Do you and Luci just throw your supplies around the room when you’re done?”
She waves this off with a frown. “I remember the desk in your classroom being a mess the last time I visited.”
Guilt creeps up my throat at the reminder that she has no clue that I don’t even have a desk or a classroom anymore.
“But if the mess bothers you, sleep on the couch.” She heaves a deep sigh. “And be nice to Gavin.”
Auggie swipes a kitchen towel over the soup Mama dripped on the floor, then loops his arm over my shoulders. “Yeah, sis, be nice to Gavin. Do you know how much convincing it took to get him here?”
“No, I guess I wouldn’t since no one told me about it.”
He grabs my drink out of my hand again and scoffs when he finds it empty. “Well, it took a lot. Weeks of it, in fact.”
My brows lift. “It sounds like he showed up because he thought I wasn’t.”
“Maybe he’s secretly scared of you.” Narrowing his amber eyes, he tosses his shoulders up in a casual shrug before Zara calls his name from the living room. He ruffles the top of my head as he leaves the kitchen.
Mama sets the spoon down and pats my cheek. It’s almost sweet until she pinches the skin between her fingers. “Please make my Gavin feel welcome,” she orders before turning back to the soup.
HerGavin. Geez. You’d think the sun shines out of his ass for how much she adores him.
But I can’t argue with her. I won’t.
