Page 93 of Witch Please

Trev grabbed his stomach. “Oof, right. Shutting up.”

“Let’s get inside,” Maya said. “Titus, get the bags. Your room is this way,” she added for Lucy’s benefit, who hurried after her with the carry-on like a baby duckling.

Titus made Trev haul one of the suitcases, and when they caught up, Lucy was crying a little, both hands pressed against her mouth, and she kept saying, “Oh my God,” over and over. Which he hoped was a good thing.

Maya hugged the girl while shrugging one shoulder at him, likeI don’t know what’s up either.“You okay?” she asked eventually.

“You spent time, effort, and money doing this for me. That means you really want me here, you know? It’s not sympathy. You wanted me to feel at home, like this is my room. And it’s so pretty.” Her eyes sparkled as she touched all the little details that Maya had thought a sixteen-year-old girl would appreciate.

For a moment, Titus admired their handiwork too. “Glad you like it. We emptied the dresser and the closet so you can arrange your stuff however you want. And if you’re missing anything, just let us know. If we can’t get it locally, we’ll order online.”

Maya laughed. “What the hell do you think she needs? Rare, exotic sanitary pads? A mystic blood cup?”

Embarrassed, Titus rubbed the back of his neck. “Hell if I know.”

“Whoa, if you’re planning to talk about periods, I need hazard pay,” Trev mumbled.

“Moving on,” Lucy said firmly.

Titus thanked God that his stepsister wasn’t as committed to messing with him as Maya. He might not survive a tag-team bout. “Right. I’ll throw together something for dinner, and afterward, we’ll get you registered for school. I checked it out, and we can do it online. Susan gave me a folder with all the pertinent documentation before we left.”

“Sounds good. Do you need help cooking?” From Lucy’s expression, she really wanted to unpack, but it was sweet of her to offer.

“I’m fine. Make yourself at home. I’ll call when it’s ready.” Titus heard Maya pointing out the bathroom, going over the house rules they’d agreed on, and talking about the chore list. Trev followed him downstairs and into the kitchen. “You’re staying, I take it?”

“Hell yeah. You’re a better cook than my mom.”

“Don’t you dare make the ‘wife’ joke.”

Trevor feigned shock, donning a wounded expression. “That would be badly done, dude. Anyone can be good at cooking and/or kitchen chores. It’s not a wife thing.”

“See, this is why we’re friends.”

Pasta was fast, so he whipped up a simple red sauce for the penne they had on hand. Caprese salad was easy as well; he put Trev to work slicing tomatoes. In half an hour, Titus had a nice meal ready. The ladies joined them as he shook some hand-grated parmesan onto each dish.

Lucy beamed. “Did Mom tell you that pasta is my favorite?”

It seemed like a bad idea to refute, so he smiled instead. “Dig in.”

Trev kept the conversation from getting awkward, as he never met somebody he didn’t like and was incapable of rambling to. Lucy laughed a lot at his dumb jokes, letting Titus reflect on what delicious baked good he would make to bribe Danica’s cousin. Cookies? Pie? Or the super-fancy red velvet cupcakes she’d mentioned?

First, though, he worked with Lucy on her school registration. By the time he finished, he figured he ought to get to bed, as his day would start bright and early.I can make Clem’s cupcakes tomorrow at work.Mind made up, he tidied the kitchen and headed out back to play with Doris, who was already chasing a tennis ball with Trevor.

“Are you crashing here tonight?”

“I’d rather go home if that’s cool. If you’re too tired to drive me, I can get a ride.”

“Dude. It’ll take half an hour for anyone to get out here, presuming there are even any drivers roaming around tonight.”

“Then get your keys, bro. I’m tired of sleeping with your dog, and I miss my bed.” Though Trev tried to be cheerful, tonight he seemed…down somehow. Like something had happened he didn’t want to talk about.

“You okay?”

“Got an e-vite. Sarah’s wedding. Good for her, right? She didn’t let a guy like me fuck up her life permanently.”

“Shit. I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s whatever. Like, I knew she wasn’t coming back. I’ve known for years, so I shouldn’t be bothered by this. If I was genuinely a nice guy like everyone says I am, I’d be happy for her, but mostly I’m sad for me and a little pissed.”

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