Page 83 of Unspoken Words
“Probably not.”
“Then get off.”
“No, you get off.”
“I was here first.”
“So. I’m older.”
“Oh my God!” I groaned, laughing. “You’re still so bloody annoying.”
“And you’re still so bloody stubborn.”
The light next door flicked on, and I gasped, frozen in place.
Chris’s hand covered mine. “Hey! It’s okay. They don’t live there anymore.”
I exhaled and offered him a smile of relief. “Oh, good. When did they move?”
“Shortly after Lilah gave birth.”
“That long ago?”
“Yep.”
“Geez.” Connor and Lilah’s son, Max, would be roughly three and a half years old now. “Why didn’t anyone tell me they’d moved?”
“Because when you left, we all decided to let you start over with a clean slate. And giving you a play-by-play was only going to dirty it.”
I nodded. “Right. Thanks.”
The chair creaked some more, so I removed my hand from under his and held tighter to the support poles.
“So, the moron … when are you leaving him?”
“Stop calling him that. And I’m not leaving him.”
“Bullshit.”
I glared at my idiot brother. “What’s your problem with him? What’s he ever done to you?”
“Exist.”
“You’re a jerk, you know that?”
“No, I’m a brother who knows when a moron is sucking the life out of my sister, that’s what I am.”
“He’s not sucking the life out of me.”
“Yes, he is. Look at you,” he said, gesturing to my hair. “He’s bleached you.”
“He hasn’tbleachedme. I needed a change.”
“Yeah, from him, not from yourself.”
“What would you know about my love life anyway? You’re not exactly a good spokesperson on relationships considering yours last the length of an orgasm or two.”
“Four,” he stated with a cocky grin. “You mean four orgasms.”
