Page 64 of Nothing To Lose
Chelsey emerges from the hallway, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Her hair's a mess, and she's still wearing her scrub pants. She probably crashed the second she got home this morning.
"I figured you were here. Mr. J's dogs are going nuts. I think Buckwheat can smell you from here. Haven't you grown out of your Axe spray era yet?"
I snort. "Better than your morning breath."
"Punk."
"Bitch."
She grins, moving forward to snuggle her cheek against my chest and wrap her arms around my waist. "Good to see you, big brother."
I kiss the top of her head. "You too, baby sis."
"Mom, please tell me there's coffee?" she whines as she pulls away from me, yawning. She pauses mid-stretch and blinks at Tyler, who's standing next to the small, round dinner table holding a stack of plates and napkins. He stops what he's doing and stares back, eyes wide and unsure.
Chelsey gapes, looking from him, to me, and then back several times. "Hoe-lee fuck."
"Language," Mom calls, as if she doesn't throw around more f-bombs than both of us combined.
"I'm not gonna lie. I thought you were going to be aLars and the Real Girltype situation." She walks over to him and pokes his cheek gently. Then she looks at me, a wide grin overtaking her face. "He's real!" She looks back at Tyler. "You're real!"
"I… Think so?"
Chelsey, completely unbothered by her own unhinged behavior, turns to me, speaking in a dramatically loud hushed tone. "He's cute."
"I know, right?" I say, because it's better to just go with it.
Finally, Chelsey turns around and holds her hand out to Tyler. "Hi. I'm Chelsey. This jackass' sister."
Tyler shakes his head and her hand. "Tyler."
"Tyler," she repeats, staring at him with wide, interested eyes. "I want to know everything. Starting with, why the fuck you're with my brother."
An hour later, Chels has brought Tyler over to the dark side. He’s entirely entertained by her. Smitten, even. And it's reciprocated. I feel like I should be worried that they've already exchanged numbers. He even laughed when she said she was putting him in her phone as, and I quote, "the cutest little nerd twink” to ever exist. Clint for short.
"Can I change your name in my phone to that, too?"
"Absolutely not," he deadpans.
"Aww, come on kitten…" I murmur so only he can hear. Or so I thought.
"Oh my God, did you just call him 'kitten'?" she squeals. "I can't decide if that's gross or not. I love it for you," she says to Tyler, "but I hate it for me. Gross. You have terrible taste in men."
"I hate you," I tell her.
Mom claps her hands. "Children! Behave in front of the company, please. Let's pretend we aren't feral."
"It's too late, Ma. He knows."
Chelsey scrunches her nose, and I almost shoot iced tea out of my nose at the implication. I mean, it checks, but I don't need my mom and little sister knowing that I ate Tyler's ass for breakfast because I am one hundred percent feral for him.
The rest of dinner is loud, full of teasing and laughter. Despite not being as boisterous as the rest of us, Tyler fits in seamlessly, as though he's always been here. Mom makes him tell the story of how we met. He skips over the assault and tells them about bumping into each other and how he avoided me afterwards because I seemed angry. Mom and Chelsey howl in laughter about that.
"We're always telling him that his resting bitch face is going to get him in trouble someday."
"Well, thank goodness for meddling cafe owners," I say, wrapping my arm around Tyler's shoulders. He's finished most of his food, all but the mac and cheese that mom automatically piled on his plate. I reach over with my fork and eat a bite from his plate, not thinking anything of it. Chelsey makes a ridiculous cooing sound, then gags.
Mom sighs happily. "I want to meet these guys, Mac andAnders,is it? Interesting name."
