Andi pads through the doorway in thick socks, leggings, and my sweater, her fingertips barely sticking out of the sleeves. I wonder if she’s got anything on under the sweater or if it’s nothing but her soft, warm skin. I wonder if I left beard burn last night.
I know, without looking, that I’m stoplight-red.
“It’s nearly nine,” Reid says from the iPad. “If not now, when?”
“Fair,” Andi says, and bends over to look at the iPad, bringing her cheek close to mine. “Hey, guys.”
“Morning,” I murmur, trying valiantly, desperately to stop thinking.
“Goodmorning,” Reid says, and when I finally glance back at the screen, he’s wearing a delighted, half-grinning, half-eyebrows-raised expression that makes me instantly wary. I can’t get any redder, but Icanfeel more embarrassed, it turns out. “I was just telling Gideon the latest developments in our family soap opera.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her, something tightening in my chest. “It’s nothing, it’s stupid, it’s boring—”
“I’ll get more coffee,” Andi says, and her hand drifts across the back of my neck as she walks away. This makes twice now, this morning, that she’s justtouchedme out of nowhere. Maybe if it happens a third time it won’t send my whole brain offline.
“Gideon?” Reid is asking, still grinning like a shithead. I clear my throat and frown, because that’s what I do, right?
“I should go, actually,” I tell Reid, and it’s got nothing to do with getting off the phone before Andi comes back. “Unless you have questions about any of the animals—”
As if summoned, there’s amrrrrrrsound and Dolly’s enormous head appears in front of the camera. Imperiously, she scans the room, then appears to zero in on Reid, who looks wary and takes another sip of coffee.
“She wants you to pet her,” I say.
“I think it’s a trap.”
“She’s a cat.”
“She’s a cat who’s tempting me into petting her so she can tear my hand off and… sacrifice it to the old gods, or something.”
“Your hand would be a terrible sacrifice.”
“My hand would be agreatsacrifice.”
“MRRAAAAAAAH,” says Dolly, and Reid makes another face.
Slowly, he reaches out a hand and rubs it gently across the top of her head. I can hear her purr even through the spotty connection. Andi comes back with her own chipped mug, drags over a chair, and sits with one foot tucked under the other, her knee touching my thigh. When I can think again, I slowly put my hand on it, and she gives me a small, secret smile.
“So, what’s the soap opera?” she asks Reid, who’s currently frowning and scratching Dolly under her chin. One of them is having a very good time right now.
“It’s complicated and really not interesting,” I say. “Just drama.”
“My sisters Sadie and Beth are fighting because Sadie’s getting laid,” Reid says. Andi glances at me with one eyebrow raised. Does my face get hotter? Maybe.
“And Beth’s not?”
“Beth’s got three kids,” I tell Andi.
“That doesn’t mean she’sgettinglaid, it means she’sbeenlaid a minimum of three times,” Reid points out as Dolly leans into him.
“But it’s a problem that Sadie’s getting laid,” Andi says, glancing over at me again. “Isn’t she…”
“Twenty-five? Yes,” I say, and push my fingers through my hair, mortified thatthisis why my whole family is fighting right now, because what kind of people care if an adult woman has sex? “But our parents thought she was still… devout,” I say.
“Sadie swore up and down that she was waiting for marriage, even though she wasn’t,” says Reid. “And for some reason, they believed her, and meanwhile Beth reallydidkeep it under wraps until the wedding night, and thought that at least one of her sisters would turn out okay, so she feels betrayed. And probably mad that Sadie’s having a way more fun life than she is.”
“I see,” Andi says, and I don’t really think she does—this is the kind of shit that goes down deep and back years—but I appreciate the effort.“Meanwhile, Ariel is on the warpath on Sadie’s behalf, Zach, Matt, and Jacob are half shocked and half getting blamed that they didn’t, I don’t know, guard their sister’s honor, and Hannah is trying to smooth everything over because she’s the middle child,” Reid says.
“Most of you are middle children,” Andi points out. “You’rea middle child.”
