Page 16 of Sweet Twins For My Brother's Best Friend

“Pretty much nothing,” she shrugs, grateful for the tone switch.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, I don’t really cook. And it’s really not much of a kitchen.”

“Why don’t you cook?”

“I just don’t. Why do you care?” she snaps at me, her eyes turning into slits as she swivels her head to look at me with bitter annoyance.

Her green eyes, a still and calming bed of clover just a moment ago, flash with anger.

Where did that come from?

“Whoa, I don’t care. I was just asking.” I put my hands up like I’m fending off an attack, and Lucy shifts a little on my lap.

“Well, don’t.” Her tone is still laced in venom that I don’t understand. I feel blindsided by it.

“I’m just hungry, you little turd,” I snap back, lashing at her the way I used to when she was just a youngster, full of angst and insults. “I’m not asking for an inventory of your kitchen.”

“Good.” Hannah turns back around, her wide mouth set in a look of defiant anger, and I relax my hands back onto Lucy’s soft fur, twisting the short hair between my fingers.

“Good.”

I’m embarrassed that I reacted like a frat boy bully instead of asking what was wrong. I consider broaching the subject now but fear the moment’s passed.

“Well, I guess I should leave you to it. You seem like you have a lot going on here, and I’m intruding.”

“Are you sure?” Hannah asks, her voice slightly warmer than before despite her not looking at me.

Although I feel slightly confused by the back and forth, I know she’s younger than me by about ten years.

Sometimes I try and remember what I was like ten years ago, the ball of anxiety that being 25 can be.

I imagine how I was back then, starting a business and trying to understand what it means to be a good man all at the same time.

All the hormones and the frustrations, the growing pains.

I see the little girl in Hannah, the one that wants me to sit back down and ask her what’s wrong. But I’ve also learned in those ten years the value of letting things simmer a while and not pushing boundaries.

“Yeah, you know, if we’re going to be working together, I’ll have to learn to avoid Lucy’s siren call.”

I flop one of her jet-black ears and try to lower her to the ground without waking her. She’s roughly the weight of a 3rdgrader, and my arms strain at the odd angle mixed with the weight.

“I still haven’t figured that out, so good luck.” She smiles weakly and looks back at her screen.

“All right.” I stand awkwardly, not sure how to end the day. I reach out and pat her shoulder twice with a flat hand, and I swear I see a smirk flicker across her face before disappearing.

“Well, I’ll see you later.”

Her earlier invitation to stay echoes in my mind, tempting me to cross the threshold into uncharted territory.

My body is screaming at me to pick her up and sit her on her desk, but my mind is screaming at me to walk out the door before I do something I can’t take back. I listen to my mind and walk toward the front door.

“Bye, Chris,” she says as the bell rings above my head. “Don’t forget to make an appointment next time.”

I don’t say anything in return, the dismissal stinging.

Chapter Seven

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