“Me neither,” she whispers breathlessly.
I hear a key in the lock and it’s like my brain stops working because Roxie and I look at each other in panic, but our bodies can’t fully move fast enough. I pull my fingers from her and her leg drops to the floor and that’s all the time we have before Asher opens the door, or as much as he can with the door under the handle.
“What’s going on?” Asher asks nervously. “Are you okay?!” And within a moment he’s ramming his shoulder into the flimsy door and popping it open.
The oaf.
And for his efforts, he gets a full view of my naked ass as I cage Roxie in between my body and the counter so he can’t see her.
“What the fuck?! I thought something was wrong!” He cries out, not looking away from the scene he walked into, but yelling at me with his keys in his hand and a bag of food. “Our table?!” He throws his hand at the pile of broken wood on the ground and groans in annoyance. “Oh god,” he looks at me with a grumble and a look of disgust.
“I come home to your bare fucking ass fucking someone I look at as a sister. God, I’m going to go bleach my eyes,” he groans dramatically and I want to rip his fucking vocal chords out. But he’s not done. “You’re paying for a new table, Ty. And you’re heathens. Both of you.”
Asher’s crashing out and if I wasn’t so busy trying to keep him from getting even a glance of Roxie, I’d be laughing.
“Oh, come on,brother.Don’t pretend you’re not jealous that he just got someso goodthat it broke a table,” Roxie peaks her head around my arm, a look of challenge and that signature brattiness that I love.
She’s not wrong. It was fuckingspectacular.
Asher mockingly gags and rushes through the apartment, clutching the bag of food from Harriet’s like it’s his pearls.
“Hey! Share!” I call out, very aware that we don’t exactly have a stocked fridge.
“Call it a fair trade for seeing your ass!” Asher yells, already through the apartment with his eyes covered and closing his bedroom door.
“Like you’ve never seen it before!”
“Not when you’re fucking my sister!”
“I would remind him that I’m not his actual sister, but I like it too much,” Roxie says, looking up at me with a big smile on her face. My hand cups her cheek as I take in just how happy she is to belong.
Almost as happy as I am.
“Come on,Sawisn’t scary!” Asher speaks louder than I would like him to toward Roxie as they argue about what scary movie to watch. I’m standing back, watching the domestic scene unfold and I can’t help but feel my heart swell with contentment.
“Asher, I am not watchingSaw.Pick something else,” she grumbles, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, my shirt swimming on her as she lays back against the couch cushions. There’s still the extra pillow and blanket that Asher brought out when we found her before I took her to my room. She props up her feet on the old coffee table like she owns the place and my eyes immediately lock onto the expanse of creamy white skin showing. Her hair is damp from our shower, where she got on her knees again for me and I got her off against the tile wall.
She fits here. Easily, naturally. Like I always knew she would.
“It’s not your call, Roxie. It’s not your TV,” Asher grumbles, pointing the remote at the TV, but Roxie leans over and plucks it out of his hands.
“Get over yourself, Asher.”
“Give it back,” he grumbles, reaching for the remote that Roxie holds over her head taunting him like a child.
“Children,” I say with a warning tone, but they both ignore me.
“Roxanne, give it back.”
“Don’t you call me that,” Roxie throws the pillow at him angrily.
“Then give it back,Roxanne.” Asher catches the pillow and shoves it behind his back.
“Guys! Come on!” I snap, stepping into the room and sitting beside Roxie, grabbing the remote and turning it toParks and Rec.Something that they’ll both like and it’s light, funny, easy.
“Oh, this is a good one,” Asher says, turning to face the TV as Ron Swanson turns in his chair so that he doesn’t have to answer a question. Roxie chuckles and I can feel the tension lessen. Asher leans forward, grabbing a carton out of the bag on the coffee table and handing it to Roxie, eyes never leaving the TV.
“Thanks,” she says and opens it, seeing a burger and fries from Harriet’s. Asher hands me a box as well, probably with the same. Harriet knows us and knows just how simple our tastes are. She cannot go wrong with burgers and fries. Although, we’re also not picky and will gladly take whatever leftovers she has at the end of the day.
