I scoot closer and overhear Dmitri saying, “I want you here. My family doesn’t matter?—”
“Yes we fucking do,” I interject, marching over and giving them both the finger.
Leah squeaks in surprise, nearly falls, and I catch her.
“Sorry, sorry.” She pulls out of my hold.
Why is she apologizing? I’m the asshole. “No. I’m sorry. I was a dick. You don’t have to apologize anymore. Now give me some of that whiskey.”
She beams and flings her arms around me. In seconds, we’re both tearing up.
“Stop, don’t cry.” I hug her tighter. “I’m already crying. I missed you so fucking much.”
Now that we’ve hugged it out, we take seats. We share snacks and pass around the flask. At one point, Rachel joins us—but Dmitri wisely doesn’t let her drink. I get caught up on everything happening in Leah’s life. It’s enough drama to fill four seasons of a telenovela.
Finally, the doctor shows up to give us the news—Granddad is going to be okay. My mom hugs the doctor.
Aunt Milana lets her tears roll freely down her cheeks. “He’s really going to be all right?”
“We believe so.” The doctor’s smile lights up her rich brown eyes. “Your father is a fighter.”
The relief on everyone’s face shines like a spotlight. The doctor leaves the room, and the family begins to go their separate ways. None of the adults spare Leah, Dmitri, or me a glance. Rachel gives us each a gentle hug.
Dmitri puts on his big brother hat and adopts a stern tone. “Dani, you were drinking. Call a ride.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Bossypants, sir.” I salute him with my phone and pull up my rideshare app.
Leah interrupts my ride search with another hug. “We’ll get together soon.”
“Yes. Absolutely.” I wave goodbye, watching the way the two of them interact with each other. Dmitri seems extra protective and attentive.
I think my brother is in love. And seeing him and Leah like this—the way they care for each other, the easy way they interact? I couldn’t be happier for them.
The earliest ride I can find is fifteen minutes away. I go ahead and put in the request, then sit back to wait, watching my app and ignoring the exit of my aunts. My parents wish me a quick goodbye, but it’s colder than usual. I guess now that Mom isn’t so worried about Granddad, we’re back to our old bullshit.
When my ride is five minutes out, I go to the lobby to wait for it.
But parked in the pick-up lane is a big, black truck I recognize. Standing outside the passenger door is none other than Edmund Layton.
He gestures me forward.
No fucking way. I roll my eyes and fold my arms across my chest. I know I look petulant—I don’t care.
“Danica.”
Damn, the way his voice goes low…it does something between my legs.
But no. Nope. Nopey nope nope. That treacherous twatwaffle in his million-dollar haircut can wait forever. I’m not getting in his car.
Even though my pussy is throbbing at the way his jewel-green eyes stare me down.
Edmund
“Danica.” I lower my voice. “Get in the car.”
“I don’t get in cars with criminals.” She flips me off. She looks like a 1950s rebel in her jeans and black t-shirt. But her white-blond hair tied back in two braids makes her look like a brat.
I keep my voice even so she can’t hear my impatience. “You have been getting in cars with criminals for your whole life.”
