“Why? Is it nice and plump and”—he pauses, lips parted— “dripping?”
If it wasn’t before, it is now. Curse my mom for throwing out all my undies.
“Yes,” Carolina swoons.
He flutters two fingers under my chin before I have time to react.
“Might want to go get that looked at then, cream pie. Or puff. You might have caught something nasty from your date.”
“You’re lucky you have that pretty face,” I shoot back, “because you really wouldn’t have gotten far in life without it.”
There’s that stupid, sexy, shit-eating grin again. “It’s nice when a woman wants me for my body instead of my money.” He winks.
There’s that flutter in my heart.
He swipes the door open right as a crying blonde is fumbling in her purse. Kathy almost runs into him.
“I got you,” he murmurs.
He steadies her as she exclaims in surprise, her big blue eyes wide, her cheeks pink from the crying. She’s like a fairy princess with the tears glimmering on her eyelashes.
I hate my sister.
No, you love your sister, I remind myself fiercely.
Fitz cocks his head, clearly intrigued. “Younger sister, I presume.” Theprettieris silently implied.
The flutter dies and decays in my gut.
They look so fucking perfect together, just the perfect couple. Posed there in the doorway, their hands almost touching, they look like they could be on the cover of one of the romance books that I used to sneak from Gran’s collection.
And maybe if I was watching this on the Hallmark Channel, I’d swoon at the love at first sight.
But this is not a Netflix rom-com. It’s my life, dammit, and it’s the same rehashed story of my sister getting every single guy I ever liked, whether she wanted him or not.
“Are you all right?” Fitz asks hesitantly. “You’re crying.”
There’s none of the bite, the teasing, that I—once again, stupid me—almost mistook for flirting. This is how a guy treats a girl he’s interested in. Like she’s a precious piece of porcelain.
“Here, come sit down. I think your sister will make you some tea.”
“She won’t. She’s mad at me.” More wailing from Kathy.
Fitz doesn’t even look at me. It’s like I don’t exist.
He offers Kathy the literal hand-embroidered handkerchief he has in his pocket. I’m going to burn it.
“What happened?” he asks gently.
“That’s my sister. I’ll take care of her,” I bully in. “Just leave.” I shove him out the front door then lock it and flip the sign over. I don’t want to see another human being today, especially not him.
“Sorry, Winnie.” Kathy sobs pathetically. Olive hurries over with tea. “I just couldn’t today, Winnie. I just couldn’t be my bubbly self.”
“Sometimes you have to suck it up. Job hunting’s not easy.” The things I do for my sister, who is currently not helping and is instead crying over her ex-boyfriend.
“Knox’s mom won’t talk to me. She keeps sending me to voicemail, and all the other WAGs—they blocked me on Instagram.” Kathy hiccups.
Carolina dabs at her face with napkins. “Yeah, the great Pittsburgh troll? Thank god, good riddance.”
