“You’re crazy.” She shook her head. “But that doesn’t explain why Chloe is moving to the master bedroom and you’re taking the crappy guestroom at the back of the house.”
“It’s not crappy,” I protested. “It’s small, but it’s comfortable. I figured Mom might come to visit eventually.”
Amy’s pitying look made my jaw clench. She cleared her throat. “Okay. Well. You’re going from a queen-sized bed to a twin. Do you even fit in a twin?”
To be honest, I hadn’t tried but it was too late now. “All right, break time is over and I’m not going to talk about this while carrying a hundred-pound dresser backwards down the stairs.” I hefted my end. “Let’s go.”
She smirked at my blatant attempt to dodge the question but hooked her hands under the beveled edge and lifted. “Okay, I’ve got it.”
Our height difference made the descent slow and awkward, but Amy was strong and disinclined to let me be crushed by a falling dresser, so we made it safely. I wiggled the dresser against the back wall where it would be out of the way. I still needed to wrangle my bed down here, along with the nightstand and any clothes I couldn’t cram into the tiny guestroom dresser because the room didn’t have a closet.
I turned around and yelped at finding my sister an inch from my nose. “Amy, what the hell?” I moved to pass her, but she poked me between the ribs.
“What’s the deal with Chloe?” she demanded.
Why was I so reluctant to talk about this? “It’s not a big deal. Chloe is pregnant. I figured she would want the extra privacy of having her own bathroom.”
“Holy shit, Steven. Holy shit,” Amy whispered, which was a bit overly dramatic for the situation, in my opinion. “You knocked up your boss’s daughter?”
“What? No.No. Jesus, Amy.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I’m not the dad. But that reminds me. Chloe hasn’t told her parents yet, so keep it zipped, all right?”
I side-stepped her while she stood there slack jawed. I was halfway up the stairs when she pivoted.
“I have more questions,” she said.
I grunted. “Of course you do.”
Amy fired them off one after the other. “When is she due? Where’s the dad? Why is any of this your problem?”
“May. On a bike in South America somewhere. I didn’t think itwasa problem.” At the top of the stairs, I turned around and leaned against the doorway with my arms crossed. Amy stomped up the stairs behind me. I quirked an eyebrow at her. “Is it a problem foryou?”
“It would have been nice to be asked,” she said. “I live here, too, don’t I?”
That got my attention. The last thing I wanted was for her to feel like this wasn’t her home. She’d had enough of family making her feel like an unwanted obligation. “Chloe told me to ask you. I didn’t because I thought I knew the answer. Don’t you like Chloe? Are you telling me you would let her be pregnant and homeless?”
“Of course not,” Amy grumbled. “It still would have been nice if we’d had an actual conversation about it before you started moving furniture around.”
“I’m the one giving up my room,” I pointed out.
“And I’m the one who now has to share a bathroom with a yucky boy,” she tossed back.
“I’m not yucky,” I protested.
She wrinkled her nose.
I sighed. “I promise I won’t piss on the toilet seat, and I’ll wipe down the sink after every shave. Satisfied?”
“Maybe.” She tilted her head, clearly waiting for more.
This time my sigh came from the depths of my sister-wearied soul. “Amy, Chloe is in a tight spot. What do you think about letting her stay here for a while? If you’re not okay with it, we’ll find another solution.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Of course, really. You’re my sister. This is your home for as long as you want it to be.”
“In that case…” She dragged the words out slowly just to fuck with me but couldn’t stop her shit-eating grin. “I think I would like that a lot.”
19
