Greysonshrugged, stuffing his phone into the pocket of his shorts. “Travis and Johnnywanted to hang out, but I dunno. I might just play someStreet Fighter.”
“Youand that freakin’ game,” I teased, throwing my head back with a groan. “That’sall you ever wanna do.”
“Youcan’t talk. I’ve seen your save file,” he laughed, sitting at the island andgrabbing an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. “By the way, nicewin-loss ratio, Dad. You kinda suck.”
“Whoa,man,” I spread my arms out wide, “don’t bringmygame into this. We’retalking about you here.”
Withanother chuckle, he shook his head and took a bite, and his phone chimed. Iwanted to ask if it was Tabby. I wanted to demand to see his phone, to knowwhat she was saying, but God, what kind of overbearing lunatic would that makeme?
“So,you wanna invite Travis and Johnny over?” I offered, grabbing an apple formyself. “At least then you’ll have some company.”
Greysonglanced up from his phone and nodded with enthusiasm. “Yeah, sure. That wouldbe cool.”
“I’llcall Mel,” I decided, and grabbed my phone to do something,anything,other than obsessively check to see if Tabby had replied.
***
“Andjust when I thought I’ve seen everything there is to see, my baby brother wentand set up a playdate,” Mel sing-songed as she and her four kids walked throughthe front door.
“Firsttime for everything,” I grumbled, patting the heads of her two youngest and huggingJohnny and Travis. “Greyson’s in the basement, guys.”
Itdidn’t seem likely that two teenaged boys could sound so much like a herd ofelephants, but there they were, rattling my entire house. I turned to my sister,not sure if I should be startled or impressed.
“Oneofyousounds worse than that,” she teased, taking a look around theliving room. Greyson’s sneakers, laptop, phone charger, iPad, and sweatshirtwere scattered haphazardly throughout the room, and although it wasn’t a ton ofstuff, the disorder gave it the appearance of being more. Mel laughed. “Yourhouse is starting to look like mine.”
“Onekid can’t be as bad as four,” I said pointedly, grabbing the remote and turningon the TV. I looked down at my niece and nephew and asked, “What would you guyslike to watch?”
“PJMasks,” they shouted in unison, and I snorted.
“Wow,thisPJ Masksshi—stuffmust be awesome to get a reaction likethat,”I eyed Mel, and she laughed.
“It’son Disney. It’s the big thing in our house right now,” she smiled, ruffling thehair of the two little kids before heading into the kitchen. “You got anybeer?”
“Yep.”I set them up with the TV before following my sister to the refrigerator. “Yo,I need to talk to you.”
“Oh,and suddenly the reason for the playdate comes out,” she crooned, grabbing abottle from the fridge.
Ipulled my phone from the wall charger. “Tabby went out on a date the other daywith this guy she’s working for. I can’t stand the sleaze-bucket, but apparentlyshe sees something in him. Anyway, I’ve been trying to get in touch with her,but she won’t answer my calls or texts. What does it mean?”
Melslid onto one of the chairs at the kitchen island and handed the beer to me,soundlessly asking for me to open it, and I obliged as she asked, “She went outwith another guy?”
Inodded, hoping the hurt in my heart wasn’t as visible as I felt it was. “She’sselling his house, sellinghima house, whatever. He’s a rich guy—”
“You’rea rich guy, Bastian,” she gently pointed out.
Ihardened my glare, pushing my point. “Notlike this dude. He smells likehe showers in cash every morning.”
“You’vesmelled him?” She raised an inquisitive brow.
“I’vemet him a couple times, yeah. He’s a douche.”
“Ooh,a pissing contest. I love it.” She grinned gleefully.
“Oh,good, I’m gladsomeonedoes, because I can’t stand it. Not to mention thissilent treatment crap is pissing me off.” I dropped my phone to the counter foremphasis.
“Um,can I ask what happened before she stopped answering your texts?”
“Itold you, she went on a date with Roman,” I reminded her with exasperation.
