“Can I bwing my water?” Gavin asks, half the contents of his cup already down the front of his pajamas.
“Sure, bud. Why not,” I mumble, sliding my hand down to reach his back and guide him forward. “It’s just water. It’ll dry if it spills.”
We’re two steps from the kitchen when I notice Jovi lingering by the stairs. “We’re looking for the galaxy lamp. Any thoughts?”
He shakes his head and shrugs. “Nope.”
Then he starts moving, heading toward us so casually there’s nothing casual about it.
No, he’s up to something. I’d recognize that look in his eyes anywhere, anytime.
I catch him by the front of his shirt and force him to stop. “What did you do?” I glance toward the steps leading upstairs. “Flood the bathroom? Break a toy? Accidentally spill something on a special blanky?”
Instantly, Gavin’s eyes pop out with worry. “Miss Cozy?”
“Miss Cozy is perfectly fine,” Jovi promises.
But the way he reverts to his guilty crooked grin, leads me to believe I’m on point with my suspicions.
“Gavin, go help your sister look for the light. I’ll be right behind you.” I nudge him to start taking the steps to go up.
“Is Uncle Jovi gonna get in twouble?”
“Always a possibility.” Then I smile to let him know I’m teasing. Well, I smile to lead him to believe I’m teasing. To imply it. Fuck, I’m sure I’m in some grey area here in terms of honesty, but Jovi will survive my wrath, and I think that’s the bottom line worth conveying here.
I wait until Gavin’s all the way up the stairs before I turn my attention back on Jovi. “Spill it.”
“I can’t,” he hisses.
“Why not?” I whisper back.
“Because Remmi and I are on a secret mission, and you’re not supposed to know.”
“Oh.” I release his shirt. Then, feeling unexpectedly sheepish, I smooth out where it’s crinkled from being bunched up inside my fist. Has he always been this freaking solid? Not important. “Sorry.”
I hurry to move my hand before it gets carried away gliding over the obscenely defined contours of his chest.
“It’s fine.” He chuckles quietly. “Old habits, right?”
“Just tell me one thing,” I say, walking backwards toward the stairs while still maintaining eye contact. “Are terrible things going to happen to me while searching for this lamp? Have you two booby-trapped the whole upstairs for me to stumble through in search of this elusive galaxy light?”
He grins. “Thanksgiving break, my junior year.” He tips his head back laughing quietly. “That was fun.”
“I wound up with a bucket of water dumped over my head and a bag of flour exploding at my feet. I was finding paste in places one should never find paste for days after.” I cross my arms, turning to face the steps and start stomping my way up. “It wasnotfun.”
“This prank will be,” he promises. “It involves cookies.”
I turn over my shoulder. “Secret stash in the oatmeal box?”
“How the hell do you know about those?”
“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes, finally feeling my muscles relax and my steps lighten as I keep going up. “Who do you think taught you guys these tricks?” I let out a dramatic sigh. “I hid chocolate in a saltine box all through high school. And those caramels you guys used to sneak from the coffee tin you thought were my father’s? Also mine. The only reason I never said anything was because it kept youout of my stash of red licorice in the empty spaghetti box behind all the new ones.”
Jovi makes a face. “Trust me, no one was coming for those.”
“You don’t like red licorice?” It only provided every ounce of serotonin I had to make use of from twelve to eighteen. After that, I learned other means of perking myself up. Namely coffee. “I always knew your judgment couldn’t be trusted.”
He chuckles. “Yes. The red licorice and my habit of skateboarding on your roof are proof of that.” He waves his hand trying to get me moving again. “Now can you get the hell out of here so I can pretend to sneak the cookies out of their hiding place without getting caught?”
