Page 9 of Covetous

Me

My poor baby! Tell him Auntie is on her way! ????‍??‍??

Yasmine

Two words. Colic sucks.

Yasmine and our older brother, Niko, went to live with their fathers when I was six years old. Since our mom and my dad were still together, I stayed behind.

Niko’s father lived in Houston, while Yasmine lived in New York with her dad and stepmom. Years passed with Niko and I having minimal contact with Yasmine because of her dad. We were her old family. Her old life.

Last July, when Yasmine came down for a visit, I took her to a nightclub. It was the night I met Ian, and she met Hunter Demalio—a fine-as-hell acclaimed chef. Yasmine and Hunter hooked up, resulting in an unexpected pregnancy from what was supposed to be a one-night stand. But now they’re not only amazing co-parents but best friends, which gives me hope and a new example of a healthy relationship. If only they’d get out of their own way and date already.

Exiting my car, I’m greeted by the scorching Texas heat and startle when someone unexpectedly shouts my name. It takes a second to locate the girl across the street waving in my direction, and it takes me even longer to realize it’s Isabella. I almost didn’t recognize her with her new hairdo. Her once natural-blond hair is now a shiny chocolate brown. The new look suits her perfectly.

As I’m making my way to the crosswalk, my phone rings. “Hello?”

“Skylar? No freaking way. What are you doing over here?” Isabella says on the other end.

“Picking something up from Magnolia Bakery.” The pedestrian signals light up, giving the go-ahead to cross. “I’m coming over there.”

We end our call just as the door to The Ink Spot opens, and Victor emerges. After a brief conversation with her brother, Isabella walks in my direction, while he falls back into the shaded area of the storefront’s awning. As two friends who haven’t seen each other in person in a long time typically do, Isabella and I crash into a hug right there on the sidewalk. We spend the first few minutes complimenting each other’s glow-ups since high school, then make plans for a sleepover like in the old days. I’m checking out her freshly inked tattoo, a small butterfly on her wrist—compliments of Victor—when she notices my engagement ring.

“Holy shit. Would you look at that rock?” She lifts my hand for a closer look. “It’s huge! Ian has good taste.”

“Thanks.” I’m a grinning fool. “Your brother’s girlfriend helped him pick it out.”

Confusion flickers across her features. “I’m assuming you mean Victor since Quentin is married to Fatima—love her, by the way—but Victor doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

“Uh, yeah he does. He’s with Esme.”

Clearly taken aback, she furrows her brow. She’s never met Esme, but she has heard me mention her. “Your best friend, Esme?”

“You didn’t know?” I ask, surprised.

“No.” She shakes her head, still processing this new information. “Victor,” she hollers, waving him over.

He saunters over with his usual nonchalant attitude. “What?”

“First off, don’t be rude. Say hi to Skylar.”

“Hi,” he says, unenthused. I’m so confused by him sometimes. Half the time, he acts like I annoy him as much as he annoys me, and other times, he does things like offer to fix me a cup of coffee and even knows how I take it.

“Hello,” I say, keeping my tone formal as if I don’t see this man almost daily.

“Ummm…” Isabella’s lips press together in what looks like a confused duck face. “Skylar tells me you have a girlfriend. Does she not know you’re a manwhore?”

I cough into my hand, and the corner of Victor’s mouth twitches before he states, “Former manwhore.”

Isabella rolls her hazel eyes. Does she not believe him?

“I told her that Esme, your girlfriend, helped Ian pick out my ring.” I don’t want him to think I volunteered that information without a reason. He’ll think I’m trying to be all up in his business, which is not the case.

Victor runs a hand through his hair, further messing up the longer strands on top. “Yeah, well, it’s new with me and Esme. We haven’t been exclusive for that long.”

“That makes sense. I guess.” Hurt reaches Isabella’s eyes. She and Victor have always been close, often mistaken as fraternal twins, and never kept secrets between them.

“You were going to meet her soon since you’re staying with me.”

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