Page 249 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

“You better get a head start,” George drawled, eyeing me with hunger. His eyes caught on my biceps, on my chest, and I flexed a little extra just to show off. “He’s faster than he looks.”

“You can’t punch me,” Brendon said, arms crossing. “I’ll sue.”

“Please do,” I hummed, getting my stance ready. I wanted to make this count. “I’d like to see you try to win when you are currently trespassing—and you put your hands on my fucking boyfriend. From where I’m standing, anything I do to defend his home is fair game.”

And then I pulled my hand back, clenched my fist—and with a sickening, delightful, wonderful crack, pounded it directly against Brendon’s goddamn face.

He went flying back out into the hallway—far enough he smashed into the wall on the other side. My fist stung a bit, but I hardly noticed, a sick sort of satisfaction running through me as I smirked down at his crumpled form.

“I gave you a warning,” I shrugged, leaning against the doorway. “Not my fault you don’t know how to listen.” He groaned. “Now kindly see your ugly ass-face out. Please and thank you.” I slammed the door, locking it for good measure, before I turned back to George.

“You called him ass-face,” Missy’s voice was hysterical. “You called him—” She wouldn’t stop laughing. Apparently she’d followed me into the living room, because she was crumpled against the wall, wheezing her lungs out. Even Mr. Pickles had come out of wherever he’d been hiding to see what the fuss was about. “Oh, I like you,” Missy wiped a tear. “You got an older brother?”

“Sadly, no.” I smiled at her, but turned my attention back to George.

George, who was leaning against the wall, face turned away from me, shoulders shaking.

“Oh, baby.” Shit. I’d scared him. I’d?—

And then I heard it.

The squawking wheeze of his giggles.

“You scared the shit outta me!” I grabbed him by the shoulders, spinning him around so I could see with my own eyes that he wasn’t upset. He wasn’t. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and his whole face was red as he choked on his laughter.

“Did you hear the sound he made when he h-hit the w-wall?” George wheezed. “Oh my god. I’m going to Hell.”

It was impossible not to join in.

Impossible not to feel George’s amusement, the monolith that had been Brendon reduced to the butt end of a joke.

“I can’t b-breathe,” George snickered, falling against my chest as I wrapped my arms around him, breathing in his joy like it alone could sustain me. Hell, maybe it could.

The next time the doorbell rang it was actually the pizza delivery guy.

Which was good—even if I was a bit disappointed I wouldn’t get to acquaint Brendon’s face with my fist again.

Oh well.

So yeah.

Part of why just thinking about New York made me smile was because of Missy—and seeing George’s home up close and personal. But the biggest reason I’d enjoyed New York? Was because I’d gotten to rearrange Brendon’s goddamn teeth.

“Alex?” George’s voice broke through my reverie. I was grinning like a fool, probably worrying him—considering the fact I was supposed to be teaching him about ice skates.

“Sorry, sorry,” I shook my head.

“You were thinking about punching Brendon again, weren’t you?” he asked, amused and annoyed all at once.

“Guilty.”

He emitted a soft sound. It was one of myfavoritenoises. He only ever made it when he was trying to look grumpy, but was too pleased to be successful. Half sigh, half snort.

“While I understand—really, I do,” George grouched. “Can we focus on the problem at hand? I’d rather get my untimely death over with, please and thank you.”

“Okay, okay.” I helped him get his foot inside the boot, lacing it up. “Noted.”

There was no way in hell I was letting him get hurt.

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