Page 131 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions
“Where do you want this?” he inquired.
He blinked, eyes narrowing as he finally noticed our embrace. I jerked away from Mom immediately. I’d been vulnerable in front of her and that was already far too much emotional honesty for one day. I didn’t need Joe to look at me like I was fucked up too.
At least one Milton needed to think I was perfect.
I retreated to my task—and my only somewhat burnt eggs—with my head held high. Unfortunately my cheeks remained flushed, no matter how hard I willed the heat away.
“Horrible timing as always,” Mom chided him, then gestured at the back wall. “There. Back corner.”
“I didn’t know you guys were gonna be hugging,” Joe gruffed, big chest heaving as he hauled the cooler where she’d directed. He set it down with ascrape, thudthat echoed through the whole room. His back was sticky with sweat, and I grimaced. It was not at all attractive on him like it was on Alex.
“You need to shower,” I told him, stirring my eggs.
Joe made a sound, lifted his arm, and sniffed his armpit. He dropped it back down with a shrug. Then he settled against the counter, watching me with hawk-like intensity. “What’s in the cooler?” He asked Mom, as stoic as always.
“Beer,” she replied. “The ice is melting. I need to refill it so it’s ready to go back into the bridesmaids’ cabin.”
Joe frowned. “How much beer do they need?”
Mom rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. “However much they want, Joe. If they want to drink a gallon of beer every hour on the hour they are allowedto.” Joe was the youngest, and their relationship was way different than the one I had with Mom. Less respect, maybe? Just as much love, of course. But he certainly got chewed out more than I did. I wasn’t sure if that was because of his status as youngest—or the fact he didn’t seem to mind.
He had thicker skin than anyone.
And then—because he was Judas, and wanted the heat off of him—Joe threw me under the goddamn bus.
“Georgie got laid,” Joe said.
Mom stopped mid-rant, turning her wide eyes on me. “George…you—” she gaped.
“I am going tokillyou.” I jabbed my egg-speckled spoon at Joe. “Feed you to the fucking bears—or wolves—or whatever horrible creature will take you.”
“Enough,” Mom sighed, shaking her head at the two of us. “If you’re going to fight, do it outside. You’re stressing out my bacon.”
“How can bacon stress out if it's dead?” Joe frowned, confused.
“It’s a figure of speech,” Mom replied, miffed at him again.
“Is it?” I teased, surprised by myself. Obviously she and Joe were surprised too because they both swiveled to look at me, twin sets of blue eyes wide. I lowered my spoon to the pan.
“I didn’t know you could joke,” Joe grunted.
“Of course I can joke.”
“Huh.” Joe looked at me like I was a stranger.
Had I really never joked with him?
“Just. Ugh. Forget it.” I turned back to the eggs, cheeks burning for a new reason now. A reason that had nothing to do with Joe outing my sexual escapades to our mother.
“Didyouknow he could do that?” Joe asked Mom, not dropping the subject.
“It’s been a while since the last time he lowered his guard enough, but yes,” Mom laughed back, delighted, and not afraid to poke fun—even though that was mortifying. She saw right through me. “Does your good humor have todo with youradventureswith Alex last night?”
“Can wepleasestop talking about my sex life now?” I was justifiably horrified. And pissed at Joe. Because this was all his fucking fault. And he’d done it on purpose! Giant little shit.
“I don’t know,” Joe said. “I’m having fun.”
“Joe.”
