Page 75 of Game On

“Tell whoever it is to go away.”

Chuckling, Jamie jogged down the stairs, where Poppy joined him at the base. “Do you want to find out who it is too?”

She fled upstairs.

“Guess not.”

He opened the door to a bright morning and a woman standing on the stoop with her back to him.

“Finally.” She began to turn. “Jesus, Dorian, would it kill you to answer your tex—oh.” She blinked at him. “You’re not Dorian.”

“No, ma’am.”

Her gaze narrowed, either at the fact that he wasn’t Dorian or that he’d ma’amed her, he wasn’t sure.

“Who are you?” she asked.

Jamie inspected her from head to toe. She was tall, only two or three inches shorter than him. Thick dark hair the same shade as Dorian’s was pulled into a high ponytail, and she wore a power suit—on a Sunday—in a shade of pewter paired with hoop earrings and skinny-heeled boots. “Who are you?” he countered, even though he knew. She was in the one family photo Dorian had on his wall in the living room.

“Does Dorian live here? I do have the right house, don’t I?”

After everything Dorian had told him, Jamie was tempted to tell her she had the wrong house and then watch as she circled the block, searching for her brother like a chicken with its head cut off.

He didn’t get a chance to answer, though. Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Dorian appeared at Jamie’s elbow. He went rigid. “Adriana? What are you doing here?”

She smiled, and it was an echo of Dorian’s when he was genuinely happy, though with a muted and uncertain edge. “I did invite you to have lunch with me when I came to town.”

“I said I was busy.”

She rolled her eyes, and that too was like Dorian. “For the next fifty years. Yes, I remember.”

Jamie snorted a laugh.

“Can I come in or what?”

“Why?” Dorian demanded, and Jamie couldn’t decide if this whole interaction was funny or sad. If one of his siblings showed up on his doorstep, Jamie would’ve yanked them inside and hugged the shit out of them in less than a second.

Adriana hiked her purse strap higher onto her shoulder. “Because it beats talking on your front stoop?”

Dorian reached around Jamie, opened the door wider, and gestured inside.

“Thanks,” Adriana said, stepping inside. She and Dorian stared at each other from three feet apart, one looking as awkward as the other. “Should we hug?”

“No.”

Okay, so this was both funny and sad but definitely leaned more toward sad.

Jamie stuck out a hand, just to diffuse the stare-off. “Hi. I’m Jamie. Dorian’s boyfriend.” They hadn’t exactly discussed labels, but Jamie had more or less announced it last night and Dorian hadn’t argued. So he figured that made it official.

“And housemate,” Dorian added.

“Adriana.” Her handshake was firm. “Dorian’s sister. Good to meet you.”

“Dorian and I were about to head out, so...”

“Shore family brunch,” Dorian said.

“That’s still a thing?” Adriana asked. “I had breakfast with Mom and Dad, and they didn’t mention it.”

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