I smile, “Yeah well…” dropping my keys and red handbag while heels get kicked off and abandoned. My bad-ass heels I did a flip in tonight like a damn pro. But I’ll keep that special moment to myself. Sammy has a tendency to push me about giving up dancing. Little mentions about how I should’ve stuck with it. Not in the mood. Ever. “I like to keep you guessing.”
“And you always do,” she smiles, “Wanna watch a movie with me?”
“Which one?”
“Does it matter when I have this?” She tips the jug to display creamy caramel, vanilla bean swirl. “And guess what’s even better than this?”
Convinced nothing is, I demand, “What could possibly be better than that??!”
“I’ve got an extra spoon right here because I figured Zo’d be home by now. Lucky you.”
I start running. “Make room under that blanket!”
She yanks up the faux fur splurge we’ve never regretted investing in, and I jump under it, surprising my sister with a heartfelt hug. “What’s this for?”
“I just love you.”
Sammy’s voice softens on a sincere, “I love you, too, Lexi!”
“Okay, that’s enough,” I pull away, making her laugh.
We dig into the most scrumptious dessert ever available at a moment’s notice while Sam searches the Internet for our blessed entertainment.
Up and to my right, Sally Ashes sleeps atop the sofa’s back cushion, grey body stretched in a pose only a cat can comfortably maintain.
Our other kitty — the cottonball that breathes — is passed out opposite us in a chair we discovered at an estate sale.
I’m convinced our felines believe that this home belongs to them. We humans exist merely to pay their rent, feed them a growing variety of wet food and kibble, and clear away their poop every damn day. And for this they allow us to pet them.
I reach over to greet the nearby Sally with a few loving strokes while I call out to his Highness, “Hi Ralphie.”
One eye opens.
Momentarily.
Sal only stretches.
That’s all I get.
From both cats.
Meh.
I’m fine with it!
Movie titles, pics and trailers get brutally shredded. “Too serious.” “That looks dumb.” “I’ve seen it a thousand times.” “I don’t like war movies.” “Great cast, though.” “Not in the mood for suspense.” “Great cast, though.” “Too serious.” “Great cast, though.”
Search abandoned, Sammy asks me, “Was the date bad?”
“No. Why would you ask that?”
She looks at me, paused menu lighting our faces. “Because you’re home.”
“Oh…” Spooning a small bite’s worth, I stare at it. “It was a hard day for him. He just came out to get his mind off of something.” I lock eyes with my sister. “You remember what Mom used to say about personal stuff?”
“Some things are meant to remain private to those who endure them.”
It’s one of the many reasons Sammy and I don’t gossip. It’s Gage’s tragedy and if he wants people to know, he’ll tell them. Including my sister. Not that she’d ever tell anyone — but that’s not the point.
Licking my spoon, I stretch a leg. “I was going to stay at his place but when we were driving over to Virginia Highlands, I uh…” His mother had called, and Gage let it go to voicemail. Only because of me. It didn’t feel right. I was sure they wanted to talk to one another. “I asked if he wanted to be alone.”
She nods, understanding his answer was yes. “You like him?”
I shrug, “It’s just a casual thing,” turning back to the screen. “Let’s find a comedy.”
She’s staring at me, so I side-eyeball her.
“It’s just casual?”
I insist, “Yes! Trust me, it is,” and begin searching for films without waiting for her. Under my breath, I finally add, “You know I don’t get serious about guys.”
“Brad?”
“Brad?! That was a game! One long stupid game!”
“The kind where you leapt into his arms and took him back time and again.”
“Thrill of the chase. Give me that!” I snatch the tub of ice cream, spooning the last of it with an annoyed glance cut her way.
“I was done,” she lies.
“You wanted this.”
“Nope. I was done.”
“Yeah right.”
The sound of Zoe’s key unlocking the dead bolt catches our attention.
She and Ryder Hamilton walk in, laughing about who the fuck knows what.
Our eyebrows fly, both of us wondering how they ended up together on a date night. I look at Sam and she gives a tiny head shake. No clue.
He’s been Zoe’s ginormous crush since our cousin Emma married his uncle, Tanner. The marriage brought Ryder and his mom to Atlanta from California, happily installing them as honorary family members. She promptly met someone, but Ryder has remained single.
During every single infamous Cocker Family BBQ since their move east, Zoe has mooned over Ryder and yet somehow we’re all uncertain of his knowledge of her crush.
He’s fond of her.
How could he not be?
But Sam and I have never seen romance behind his eyes.
Save for one night.
It was when Logan visited Atlanta to celebrate Caden’s return, months before the Broadway show left for Germany and took Logan with it. Ryder came back to our place with him for what ended up becoming a very dramatic evening for my poor Samantha.
And a dreamy one for our Zo.
Ryder had flirted with her.
Complimented her.
Then left.
She lived off of it.
For months.
So what the hell is happening here?!
She grins, “Hi guys,” jogging her thumb to her handsome, dark-haired crush.
He tips his chin. “Girls.”
Sam’s surprise is concealed well. “Hi Ryder!”
Mine isn’t. “Where the fuck did you find him?! One of your better dreams?”
Zoe blushes.
I yelp as Sam pinches my hip under the fuzzy blanket.
Ryder smiles, “Thanks Lex. I’m not used to you giving compliments.”
“I give them all the time!”
He chuckles and casually adds, “I’m gonna help myself to a beer.”
Zoe points to our kitchen, “Right in there!” and drops her hand. “Oh, you know where it is. I forgot you’ve been here before.”
He faces her, standing pretty close. “It’s all good. You want one?”
Sam and I exchange a look because
