Текст книги "Lucky Number Four"
Автор книги: Amanda Jason
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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 16 страниц)
“Dora, what the hell are you talking about? You’re not a slut, just a horny woman who’s desired by an equally horny, hot man. I think you should go upstairs and wait in his bed.” She pauses to put a red-nailed finger to her chin in contemplation. “Yes, I think that’s an excellent idea. Get your ass up there and go for it. He fucking wants you. You know you want him too.” Julie reaches forward and grabs my hands to emphasize her point.
“Nope, not going to do it,” I say before standing up quickly and making my way toward the door.
“You won’t forgive yourself if you don’t. You’ll always wonder what you missed. I’m betting you’re missing a whole bunch of fast, slow, dirty, sweaty sex. Makes me wet just thinking about it.” Julie flops back in the chair.
“Night, Jules,” I say loudly as I close the door behind me and head for the stairs.
I glance over at the clock again and cringe at the realization that it’s one a.m. and six in the morning is going to come really quick, and the coffee shop is always packed on Saturdays. I’ve been thinking about my encounter with Colin, his sizzling kisses, his rock hard body, and something else that was rock hard too.
A sound interrupts my musings. I hear a muffled voice coming from the door that leads to the living room. Creeping out of bed, I put my ear up to my door and hear Colin, Drew, and Liam’s voices, several more male voices I don’t recognize and a mess of female ones too.
Great, they brought the party home. How the hell am I supposed to sleep with Colin and a bunch of women in the next room? Okay, so maybe they aren’t with Colin, but maybe my rejection turned him off. What the hell? I don’t want him. He doesn’t want me.
Irritated, I leave the door and flop down on my bed. It’s going to be a long night.
I am so wound up. She’s just on the other side of the door. I shouldn’t have kissed her tonight. At first I thought she was enjoying it, but pushing me away made me think I made a huge mistake. I want to knock on her door and apologize, but I’m really not sorry. She was just as I imagined, so giving, and she made me realize she is who I’ve been searching for. I will let things calm down a couple of days and then maybe approach her. I can’t screw this up, I really can’t. She is it.
6
The next few weeks fly by, and the weather has changed drastically. I haven’t seen my roommates since Halloween. The Sunday before Thanksgiving, Julie, Kevin, and I find ourselves on the way to my parents’ house for dinner. I had been able to avoid it for weeks, but the threat of my mom driving to the city to see me convinces me to go. I finally broke down and told them about my move, and my mom seems okay with it.
The traffic is light and it doesn’t take us long to get to the house. Both of my grandparents’ cars are parked outside, which is no surprise since unless they’re in the hospital or majorly sick in bed, they’re always here.
My family is dysfunctional, just saying. My mom is like I said before, a true medium/psychic. My dad is pretty normal, considering he’s put up with my mom all these years. My fifteen-year-old sister is a self-absorbed teen—always texting, concerned about boys, hair and clothes, in that order. My seventeen-year-old brother is a popular jock—always surrounded by a crowd of admirers. Luckily, he doesn’t let it go to his head, and is a really nice guy. I know it’s weird that a sister describes her brother as nice, but it’s the truth.
Now the grandparents…where do I start? My mom’s parents are…well, my granddad, George Anderson, is a normal quiet guy. He usually lets Alice, aka Grandma, do all the talking, which she does too well. She’s so outspoken that sometimes it can be downright embarrassing. My dad’s mom, Beatrice Jones-Phillips, is snooty. She’s materialistic and looks down on others not of her status. My grandfather on my dad’s side passed over five years ago from a heart attack, which many, including my mom, believe my grandmother caused. I’m not saying my grandmother—yes, we call her Grandmother—is evil, she just lives on another realm, above ours. She’s the one who wanted to send me to that finishing school.
“Are we going in, or are you going to sit in the car and daydream all day?” Kevin’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
“Yeah, let’s get this over with.”
Julie opens the passenger door as I open mine.
The front door is flung open by my brother Mike, whose tortured look says everything. “Where have you been? It’s been hell in here. Mom says I can leave as soon as we eat, so let’s get eating,” he says, accepting my hug.
“Hey, dude, lighten up. We’re here,” Kevin replies, ruffling his hair. “It can’t be all that bad.”
“It’s more than bad. Grandma and Grandmother are really at it today, and Dad is MIA. He went to the store more than an hour ago. Wish I had gone with him.”
“Where’s Bridget?” I ask, not wanting to go into the house now.
“She’s in her room, where else? Said she won’t come down until the food is being served. I made the mistake of being thirsty and snuck down for a drink and got caught up in the mess,” Mike groans.
Julie giggles, grabs his arm and pulls him into the house. I follow, closing the door, ready for the battle.
“Oh, here they are!” My mom, Sarah Phillips, is a vision of beauty, not a hair out of place on her blonde head and her makeup is done up perfectly. She moves her slim form forward and gives us all a hug. My mom is a major hugger and she gives the best and warmest hugs.
“Pandora, have you put on a little weight?” Grandma Alice looks me up and down and then envelops me in an overpowering perfumed embrace. She is as short as I am, that’s where I get my height. My siblings were blessed with the tallness of my father’s side. Andersons have a slight weight problem, whereas on the Phillips side, extra weight wouldn’t dare show up. “You look better with a little more fluff around the middle. You were too skinny a couple weeks ago. Your boobs even look a little bigger. Don’t they, George?”
My poor granddad looks like a deer caught in the headlights, obviously not knowing how to respond. You would think after all these years, he’d be prepared.
“How crass, Alice, really?” Grandmother Phillips, tall and willowy, has her say. “Is that any way to talk to our granddaughter? Except for her wardrobe choice, she looks fine.”
“Beatrice, don’t you think it’s time to get that stick out of your high and mighty ass for once?” Grandma chuckles, and we all cover our mouths to hide the smiles that appear at her words.
“Now, Mom and Beatrice, we’ll be having guests, so I want you to be on your best behavior, please!” Mom interjects sternly, knowing it’s no use. They’ll behave the way they want to and nobody will change that.
“Guests?” I ask, looking at my mom and then past her to the dining room table, quickly counting the number of plates and silverware laid out. Three extra?
Three?
Oh no. Tell me it’s not true.
The doorbell rings and my mom gives a sigh of relief and pushes past us to open the door. Why am I not surprised? There stand my drool-worthy, bodacious roommates, smiling as if they know they’re giving me heart palpitations.
How could Mom do this to me? I mean, things have been going just fine, and then my mother takes it upon herself to invite them to Sunday’s Hell Table. Yes, I said “hell” on Sunday. Sue me. I’m only speaking the truth. Just you wait and see.
“Well, hello. It’s so nice to finally meet you boys,” my mom gushes.
Boys? Freakin’ hell, they are definitely not boys.
Their grins get bigger and Drew pulls a bouquet of red roses from behind his back, presenting them to my Mom. She’s actually blushing, which I’ve never seen before.
We hear a car door shut, hailing my dad’s return. The next few minutes are chaotic, and I can’t and won’t begin to describe it. The introductions are finally over and we sit at the dining room table, surrounded by my mom’s mouthwatering food. Everyone is here except for Bridget, and when Mike is asked to go and get her, he pulls out his cell and calls her. We laugh and he just shrugs.
We hear the thud of feet on the stairs and she finally appears. Bridget is tall and willowy with blonde hair, just like Mom’s and Mike’s. No, I’m not adopted. In his youth, my dad had red hair just like me, but in his twenties it went a brownish color. Now the red only shows up in the sun.
As she walks to her seat, Bridget’s fifteen-year-old mouth is hanging open and her eyes are wide. Her cell, which is her whole world, falls to the carpet, taking a bounce.
“Honey, close your mouth and come sit so we can introduce you to Dora’s new roommates.”
Like a zombie, she moves and sits next to our dad, mouth still open like a baby bird waiting to be fed. Dad reaches over and pushes her lower jaw up, which seems to shock her back to reality. She frantically looks down at her hand, and then heaves a sigh of relief as Mike hands over her cell.
“Put that away. It’s rude. Now this is Drew, Liam, and Colin. And guys, this is Bridget, our youngest,” Mom explains as Bridget stares, but at least her mouth is closed.
I can tell she wants to call her “posse,” as she refers to them, or at the very least film the three models in front of her in order to post the video to her Vine account. I thought only guys had possees, but she quickly informed me a few years ago that I was wrong. The food starts to be passed around, and I think maybe my family might actually behave for once.
“So, what’s it like to be queer nowadays?” Grandma asks, plopping a mound of mashed potatoes on her plate. I choke on the sip of water I’ve just taken and turn bright red as my dad, who is sitting on my right-hand side, thumps me hard on the back. I don’t want to raise my head. I wish a hole would just open up in the floor and swallow me whole.
“Well, Mrs. Anderson, it’s better for us gays in today’s world. We still can’t get married in every state, but I see that happening one day soon,” Drew says smoothly with a straight face. The straight face doesn’t work as well for Julie, who’s laughing so hard she’s turning redder than I have ever been.
“That was a rude question, Alice. As usual, you have completely lost your manners, what little you started with,” Grandmother says, sticking her nose in the air.
“Oh, come on. You wanted to ask them yourself. You know you did, but that stick prevents you.”
“Mom and Beatrice that’s enough. You’re embarrassing our guests, and I won’t have it. Now shush and let’s say grace.” My poor mom, I bet she wants a hole to open up beneath her too.
“We might offend the q—gays if we do that. Do you guys say grace?”
At least she said “gays” this time. Drew, Liam, and Colin look at each other and then, as always, the other two leave it up to Drew to answer.
“We’re fine with grace. In fact, we go to church every Sunday and say our prayers at night.”
Julie has tears freely flowing down her now purple-looking face, which she quickly hides in her hands. Kevin is trying hard to keep a straight face—get it? Straight. Mike is grinning. The other men, my dad and granddad, are looking at the two grandmothers like they can’t believe their ears.
“Well then, Dora, please say grace.” My mom looks at me and mouths the word “help.” Feeling sorry for her, I comply.
The prayer seems to calm the table. At least Julie is getting her old color back and has quit her silent, laughing fit. Bridget hasn’t said a word and is still in her star-struck world. Mike is grinning and shoveling in his food, and the rest of us are just eating.
“It must be exciting being models and traveling all over the world,” my mom says to the three across from me.
“It’s a lot of hard work and not as glamorous as everyone thinks,” Colin replies. I so love his voice. “Sometimes we’re on set for hours at a time. We’re all lucky to be free until after the first of the year. This is the first break we’ve had in more than a year. It’s nice to relax and do what we want.”
I’m surprised at his revelation that they’re all going to be hanging around for the next few months. My classes end the second week of December, and I was hoping I would have the whole apartment to myself. They’ll probably have wild parties every night, and though I like parties just as much as the next person, there’s no way I’ll fit in. Yes, I enjoyed the first night at the apartment and was shocked at the normal people they had over, but a party … I’m sure that will be different.
“Earth to Dora,” Grandma says loudly, and I cringe at being in the spotlight, knowing anything could come out of her mouth. “Great, now that I have your attention. I was a little upset when I heard you’d moved in with three men. I don’t believe in single people of the opposite sex sharing a space together. But when I realized they were, how do you say? I heard it on a talk show the other day. Batter up? No, that’s not it. It has something to do with bats though. Now, what was it?”
“There you go again. Do you even think before you talk, Alice? I swear. I, for one, don’t approve of her living with these…men. Even though they’re different. It’s not what a proper young lady should do.” Grandmother is on a roll.
“I know what it was!” Grandma yells, ignoring Grandmother. “It’s called ‘bat for the other team,’” she says smugly, as if she’s just answered the final Jeopardy question and won all the money.
Mike and the three hot stuffs can’t hold back their laughter. Suddenly, we’re all laughing, except for Mom and the Grands’. Poor Mom. What did she expect? Having the minister from our church over wasn’t even enough to stop the Grands’, so why would she think this time would be any different?
“Okay, that’s enough, Mom and Beatrice. Let’s eat,” my mom demands, and of course the two elders act so innocent. The food is delicious, and I finally start relaxing, hoping the worst is over.
I spend most of my time after dinner doing the dishes. I don’t want to hear the conversation in our living room. God only knows what’s being discussed. A reluctant Bridget and Julie join me—after I grab their arms and drag them into the kitchen.
“Gosh, D, how the heck did you end up with them? I mean, really, do you know who they are? They’re famous!” Bridget takes the dish from my hand and absently begins drying it, a dreamy look on her face. “They’re not gay, are they? Tell the truth. I swear I won’t tell.” She rambles on and Julie just stands there smiling.
“No, they’re not,” I say, handing Julie a dish to dry.
“Oh, wow. Wait until I tell the posse. It’s not fair Dad took my phone. I mean, geez, did he think I’d call all of them and have them come over and share this with me? Well, I might have. I mean, who’s going to believe they were here? I need a phone, D, please?” Bridget’s blue eyes plead with mine.
“We don’t need any more drama, but maybe I can take a picture of you with them. Okay?” I say, taking pity on my poor sis.
“OMG that would be so awesome!” Bridget’s smile can’t get any larger.
“I wish I smoked or drank,” my mom’s voice startles us.
“Mom, is that appropriate to say to your daughters?” I say, including Julie because she is my sister in every way, but in blood.
“Those two would make anyone go over to the dark side, I swear. I can’t believe your dad and I are so normal,” she says, opening the fridge and grabbing a soda and gulping it down like it’s a shot. “Dora, I almost forgot. Henry wants me to tell you something about Jeff. His grandmother says he needs to study more for his exams. He’s not prepared,” Mom says before belching loudly.
“He knows, Mom. We’re going to be study buddies for the next few weeks, but I’ll tell him anyway.”
Jeff is a guy I met the first week of school, and we hit it off. No, not that way. He’s gay, not that you’d know it unless you really got to know him. He’s been there for me through troubled times, especially when Brian and I broke up after I found the jerk in bed with that bimbo.
Oh, and remember Henry is Mom’s spirit guide. He’s her channel to the other side. Medium stuff.
We finally finish the dishes and join the others. The rest of the evening is fairly uneventful. Bridget got her picture, Mike stayed and hung out instead of trying to escape, and the ‘three’ captivated everyone. Even Grandmother and Grandma behaved for once.
How frustrating! I haven’t seen Dora since the dinner with her family, and it’s driving me crazy. She must be using her private entrance to her room. How can one little bundle of energy and fire cause such chaos within me? Several times I’ve knocked on her door, a made-up excuse to why, but she isn’t there. Where is she? School is on break and, wait, the coffee shop. She works mornings. I could just happen to go by. Boy, I sound like a lovesick stalker, and maybe I am, but she brings out feelings in me I thought were dead. She makes me feel alive.
7
“Yes, I want a caramel latte with soy milk, whipped cream—no, wait, I want—no, that is what I want,” the man standing before me rambles on. I wait, knowing he’ll probably change his mind again. Ben comes in every few days, and it’s always the same old indecisiveness. He’s an accountant down the street, and even if I didn’t know that, it would be my first guess, with his black old-school glasses and ultraconservative black suits and black tie. I wait patiently because I know he has a stressful job, and the line isn’t too long right now.
“Oh my goodness, Sally, look! It’s them!” a voice from a nearby table loudly whispers, causing me to look around my customer. I immediately groan at the sight of my three roommates standing in line.
“I’m sorry, Dora. I just had an awful meeting, and I’m mentally beat.” Ben’s voice causes me to whip my eyes back to meet his apologetic ones.
“Oh, Ben, I wasn’t groaning at you. Take your time. It’s what’s behind you that caused it,” I reassure him. Voices are getting louder, as the majority of the female customers have recognized the trio. Darn. If I desert Ben right now, he’ll think I lied to him, but I want to know what brings the Modelteers to my coffee shop.
Ben finally gives me his order, and I pass it to June and ask Stephen if he’ll take over for me. He does and I make my way to the side of the shop and watch as Larry, Curly, and Moe—yes, I watched The Three Stooges with my dad as a kid—get out of line and move across the room to me. I roll my eyes at the looks on the faces of the female audience. Colin’s eyes meet mine, and my heart squeezes. I get a warmth that is so unnatural to me I don’t think a thousand fans could cool me off. I drag my eyes away from his and meet Drew’s laughing ones, but there’s also a strange warmth in them.
“Hi, angel,” he says. “So this is where you spend your mornings.” His voice is smooth, too smooth for me to fall for.
“Apparently, since I’m here and wearing the shops’ apron. Such a good guesser you are,” I say, my smile more a grimace. I wish he’d at least look surprised at my comeback, but that infernal grin stays on his face. I glance at Liam and his bored look is replaced by a smidge of a smile. I skip over Colin and move back to Drew. “So, what brings you guys in today?” I say sweetly, knowing the glare my eyes are giving him is anything but sweet.
“We came to escort you home and invite you to come out with us tonight. Right, guys?” Drew looks to his two cohorts and seems satisfied when they nod in agreement.
I hear a sigh from the table behind them and two young girls whisper loudly that they are available, which Drew ignores.
“I’m confused why you guys would want to spend time with boring old me when any girl or woman would jump at the chance to do so. Do you guys feel sorry for me? Because I’m happy with my life, and I do have one.” I take a deep breath and wonder at the puzzled look on their faces.
“What makes you say that?” Liam asks.
“Because I’m probably your pet project to show poor little, plain Dora how the beautiful people live, and frankly, I’m really not interested,” I say, trying not to burst into tears at the possible truth in my statement. Okay so it’s that time of the month and I’m a little grouchy, crampy, and bloated.
“That’s bollocks!” Colin’s loud voice makes the room quiet down, and I realize everyone is hanging onto our every word.
Great. By tomorrow I might be front-page news: “Short, unruly red-haired barista adopted by generous star models, their way of making her life more bearable.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spy my boss pointing to his watch and mouthing “quitting time,” which makes me relieved that I can escape this nightmare. Without a word, I grab my backpack from behind the counter and push by the trio, avoiding eye contact. Once outside, I take a deep breath and jog down the street. The tension I’m feeling is slowly replaced by the rhythmic pounding of my feet on the pavement. I absolutely love running, and I try to run whenever I can.
I hear quick and steady footsteps behind me, like the sound of men’s dress shoes clicking along on the pavement, but I push ahead and reach the subway platform seconds before the train doors shut. I turn and watch as my followers reach the platform, looking a little out of breath. I wave as the train shoots past them, and then I’m lost in the tunnel.
I don’t want to go back to the apartment and face the music. What if I’m wrong? What if they really want to hang out with me? No! They’re just rich little boys with a new toy, and I wish I had my old life back. My feet eventually lead me back to the loft. Thank goodness Brad isn’t on duty, so I make it to the elevator unnoticed. I use my key to enter my own door.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and I was intending to go home in the morning, but I begin throwing clothes in my overnight bag. I take the stairs instead of the elevator to my car in the underground garage. It’s kind of spooky—one of the fluorescent lights is blinking and then softly explodes, plunging my car into darkness. Drew’s parking spot is still empty as I pass by, quickly unlocking my doors. I shiver, but I don’t think it’s because of the cold. I think it’s the creepy feeling I’m being watched. I hold my breath until I’m clear of the garage and on my way home.
Home sweet home … my safe refuge from this crazy world, well, kind of. Walking into the house, my sense of smell is ensnared by deliciousness and I follow the trail to the kitchen. My dad is standing at the sink, apparently dancing to something only he can hear. I hesitate, not wanting to scare him, and then I notice the ear buds. I wait patiently, giggling at his ungraceful moves. I sense a presence behind me and my mom puts an arm around my shoulders and gives me a side hug.
“I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow, but I’m so glad you’re here. He’s adorable, huh? That’s why I married him.”
“You married Dad because he can’t dance?”
“Well, there’s that too, but his all-around charisma. I mean, look at him. Any woman on the planet would just love to eat him up.”
“Ewww. Mom, that’s so wrong on several levels.”
She laughs. My dad hasn’t noticed us as he continues to awkwardly gyrate. The sun is shining through the window, highlighting the red in his hair.
“So?” my mom asks as she gently guides me away from the kitchen door and into the living room. Pulling me down beside her on the couch, she waits.
“So, I came home early.” I watch her eyebrows go up and I know she’s intuiting again. “Okay, my life is a mess. It used to be so normal. I worked, went to school, came home for dysfunctional Sunday dinners, and listened to my best friends have sex every night. Now I live with three famous male models, and one of them makes my stomach hurt. I know they just feel sorry for me. They want to take this pitiful, short, red-haired, average-looking dork under their wings,” I groan while gesturing to myself.
“Oh, is that all? I thought something was really wrong. Honey, those guys really like you. You’re funny, loving, and beautiful all wrapped up in a petite package. I know for a fact you make men drool.”
“Yeah, right. Zombies maybe. And you’re my mom. You have to say I’m awesome because it’s in the parental contract.”
“Let’s get back to the one who makes your stomach hurt. It’s Colin, right? Tell me I’m right. I so hate that I can’t read family.”
“Yes, it’s Colin, but he’s been hurt, and by a beautiful model at that. So what chance would I have?” I look at her, feeling so inadequate. Even when I caught that SOB ex of mine with his slut, I still didn’t feel this way. Why does there have to be such perfect specimens in the world?
“Have you given him a chance?”
I shake my head.
“Well then, you don’t know, do you? I have a couple of things to tell you about Drew and Liam. Henry had a long discussion with me the other night and made me miss my favorite show, Rizzoli & Isles. And your dad forgot to tape it or DVD it, or whatever it’s called nowadays. Anyway, they both need your help. He said if you hadn’t blocked them with your negative thoughts, you would see that. Honey, did you hear what I just said? No, of course you didn’t. Now pay attention. Liam and Drew need you. So you need to tune into them and figure out what they need.”
“Are you sure? I mean, is Henry sure? They’re perfect. Perfect faces, perfect bodies, perfect life—”
“Those are facades. Look below the surface and you’ll see.”
“How long have you been here, Sweet Pea?” My dad’s voice makes us turn our heads to see him grinning at us.
“Long enough to see your smooth moves, Daddy Dear,” I say as we all break out into laughter.
“It’s good to have you here early. Your job, as usual, is to keep your mother out of my kitchen,” he says, taking my mom by the hand and pulling her into his arms and planting a kiss on her giggling lips. I swear, if I ever find a man like my dad, I will definitely marry him. Though in my short life experience, I know they are hard to find.
So far, Thanksgiving dinner has had no surprises. Altogether, there are twenty-five of us—cousins, aunts, uncles and the grandparents all gathered at several tables placed throughout downstairs. As usual, Dad’s dinner is amazing, though he only cooks on Turkey Day and Christmas. I’m sitting at the kiddie table with Mike, Bridget, and several other young ones. Being the good cousin that I am, I’m keeping them entertained, even my one-year-old cousin Sally. She has hair like mine, poor kid, and the cutest dimples you’ve ever seen. She’s wearing more of her dinner than ingesting it, but she’s happy and that’s all that matters.
After most of the house guests leaves, those that remain sit around talking about the day and the gossip we may have missed while sitting at separate tables. The grandmothers had been on their best behavior, which isn’t saying much, but was a relief to my mom.
We’re watching a Christmas movie when the doorbell rings and Mom says, “It’s for you, Dora.”
Everyone looks at me and I jump up, nervous because Mom would have told me if it was Julie. My palms start sweating as I reach the front door and dread sits heavy in my stomach at who might be on the other side.
“Dora, it’s a little cold to keep them waiting,” Mom’s voice prompts me to grab the door handle and open it. It’s the roommates, sans smiles…normal for Liam, but for the other two, not so much. They all look like someone just died.
“Hey, guys. Happy Thanksgiving.” My greeting sounds so lame.
“Hello, Dora. May we speak with you?” Colin’s proper statement and his adorable English accent send my stomach and heart into their crazy antics again.
“Sure, come on in.” I open the door wide and turn to see my whole family staring at us. Bridget grabs her phone and her fingers move so fast it’s mesmerizing.
“We’re going into the family room, okay?” I say, not waiting for an answer but leading the way to the back of the house. The family room has a door so I can be sure that we won’t be disturbed.
The guys eye the leather couch and they all plop down and wait for me to sit in an overstuffed recliner opposite them. Gawd, they’re so beautiful. Such a shame. It’s times like this I wish I wasn’t an average person in an average body.
“Dora, we want to apologize for disrupting your place of business yesterday.” Colin’s proper English makes me weak in the knees—and yes, a stomach and heart flip happens, as well. The memory of his kiss makes me blush. “Sometimes we don’t think things through before we do them. We made you uncomfortable, and we realize we caused you undue stress. Can you forgive us?”
“What he said,” Drew quipped, and he sends me a slight smile. “Look, Dora, our lives are crazy, and most of the time, not in a good way. You might think it’s all glamorous, but it’s not. No, don’t roll your eyes. We’re surrounded by phony people who smile in our faces and talk behind our backs. When we met you, you were—”
“A breath of fresh air,” Colin interrupts. “You’re so grounded and we work in a shark pool. If we make one mistake, there is always someone else to take our place. So you are like a—” Colin stops as if trying to find the right words.
“Ray of sunshine,” Liam says in a monotone voice, sans smile. I can’t help myself. I start laughing. “Ray of sunshine” from Mister Warmth himself. They all look startled and then join in. Even Liam chuckles—yeah, he actually has the ability to laugh.
“Thanks, guys,” I say, wiping tears from my eyes. My side hurts, but I feel they’re telling me the truth.
“No, thank you, Dora. That night at Papa’s was the best night we have had in … well, in a long time. We want you to give us a chance to show you that we are fun, good guys who just want to hang out with a wonderful, normal girl.” Drew says.
“Okay, stop there. It’s getting a little deep now. And if you think I’m normal, I may have to remind you of Sunday’s dinner. Yeah, normal.” I roll my eyes and more laughter erupts from all.
My mom opens the door and peers in at us with a huge smile. “Would anyone like anything to drink?”
“Yes,” I say. “We’ll get you guys a beer or something, and then if you want to spend time with a normal family, you can stay and watch a movie with us.”
Three heads nod vigorously. Oh, boy … I’m totally going to pick a really good chick flick.
