“Did you let her get away with it?”
“No, but she has the best giggle, so it was worth it.” I pick at the dried yogurt. “This is disgusting.”
Miley chooses that exact moment to leap from my lap onto the coffee table, batting at the phone screen with her paw.
“Miley, no—”
“Hey, Miley,” Taysom says, his voice going soft the way it always does when he talks to our cat. “You keeping Charlotte company for me?”
The kitten meows, then knocks over my water bottle.
“Miley!” I lunge for the bottle before it can soak my couch, and when I look back at the screen, Taysom’s laughing.
“It’s not funny,” I say, but I’m laughing too.
“It’s a little funny.”
I’m about to respond when there’s a knock at my door. “Hold on.”
Kyle’s standing in the hallway with a sack from our family’s favorite Chinese food place and the expression of someone who’s either done something nice or feels guilty. Maybe both.
“I brought dinner,” he says.
The smell of ginger, soy sauce, and rice fills my nose. “You’re my favorite brother tonight.”
“I won’t tell Gage that.” He steps inside, spots the phone propped up on the table, and waves. “Hey, Taysom.”
“Kyle.”
There’s a beat of silence that’s just awkward enough to make me want to crawl under the couch. My brother and my boyfriend. This is still weird.
“I’ll, uh, let you guys finish your call,” Kyle says, setting the food on my kitchen counter. “Just wanted to drop this off.”
“Thanks for bringing me food. You don’t have to leave, though,” I say.
“Nah, I’ve got plans.” He pauses at the door, glancing between me and the phone. “You know, this whole thing is still bizarre to me. Like, I’ve known you both forever and now you’re...you know.”
“Dating,” I supply. I could add “madly in love,” but I think that would freak out Kyle too much, so I keep the gushing to a minimum.
He points at me with both pointer fingers. “Yeah. That.” He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “I’m happy for you. Both of you. Even if it’s weird.”
“Thanks, Kyle,” Taysom says through the screen.
“Don’t screw this up, man,” Kyle says, pointing at him. “She’s my sister.”
Taysom sobers. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
After Kyle leaves, I grab a couple of to-go boxes and settle back on the couch. Miley sniffs the food. “You have your own food in the kitchen,” I remind her.
“Kyle’s warming up to the idea,” Taysom observes.
“Slowly.” I take a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “He texted me yesterday asking if you were treating me right.”
“What’d you tell him?”
I grin. “That you’re tolerably adequate.”
“High praise.”
