Page 15 of Drunk Dialing My Enemy

“What exactly is my brother doing out there?”

“Rebuilding the princess bridge.”

“Woah! How did you convince him to do that?”

She doesn’t want to know the truth.

“He just…offered. I guess he felt bad.”

“He should. That thing was a historical monument to our childhoods. I told him off when I found out.”

“You and me both.”

I hand Dot the bag. She continues to contemplate her brother through the windows.

“Do you know, when I was younger I always thought the two of you would end up together?” she says lightly.

“What?!”

She shrugs.

“I guess it was a selfish fantasy. I wanted you to be my sister for real, and if you married Darren, it would be like you were officially family.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

“But either way, you’re my sister. Now and forever. I don’t need it to be official,” Dot continues. “You’ve got me forever, whether you like it or not. And Darren, too.”

I like the idea of having Darren forever a little too much.

CHAPTER 8

DARREN

I don’t quituntil the sun goes down. It’s only then that I realize my stomach is growling. How the hell didn’t I notice?

I’m not the kind of person who misses meals. Actually, I eat twice as much as the average person. I always have. I don’t know why, all I know is that I’m usually hungry a couple of hours after a meal. I work hard, and I assume the reason I never seem to gain any weight is because of that.

Or maybe it’s just genetics. Dot always complains that I got all of the “skinny” genes.

The door to the shop opens up and Katie walks out to meet me with a bottle of ice-cold water. Is shetryingto sway those hips like that? Or is this just the way she moves? Whatever it is, it’s driving me wild. Enough to distract me from my hunger and make me focus on another primal need that is screaming for attention in my jeans.

“Wow,” Katie surveys the work site. “You’ve accomplished so much.”

I look dubiously at the underwhelming scene in front of us. Today was about clearing the area of the old debris, digging holes, and pouring concrete for the posts that will eventually become the legs of the bridge.

Certainly it was a lot of hard work. But it doesn’t actually look like much. Not yet.

“It’ll be more like an actual bridge by the end of the week,” I say.

She puts a hand on my shoulder and my cock stirs even more. Any physical contact from Katie has always done this to me. Always.

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Katie says. “I know you do amazing work. It’s like you’ve got all of the drawings in your head. It all comes together at the end, and it always looks perfect.”

“I didn’t know you looked at my work very much.”

“The gazebo at the dog park,” she says. “Dot and I always go there after grabbing coffee.”

“Y’all don’t own dogs.”

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