Page 25 of Girl Going Nowhere

“I wuv you too, Mama!” Maia chirps happily.

A smile quickly forms on Blake’s lips that mine matches over the toddler’s easy proclamation.

“It makes you human,” I assure her, grabbing a dish towel and drying off what she washes. “I’m sure I’d feel the same way if I were in your shoes. Can’t relate, but I can at least try to understand.”

She’s quiet for a moment. Whatever crosses her mind is temporary. Brushing it off, she finishes the dishes and asks, “What were you guys up to this weekend?”

I think about Dante and the two nights in a row we spent tangled in the sheets and covered in sweat. We took turns getting off because we both needed it. And, like always, we never said why.

Despite that, I crack my neck and put away the dishes in their rightful places. “Uneventful.”

She frowns. “No dates?”

I wet my lips. “Nah. Wasn’t feeling it.”

Since she doesn’t bring up our one-on-one at Panera, I don’t either.

Doesn’t mean I don’t think about it.

“What about you? Did you—”

“What a good girl, Maia,” she coos, obviously not paying attention to me as she coaxes her daughter to eat more.

Pressing my lips together, I sigh and finish putting away the dishes.

It’s not worth the answer, anyway.

Not when my mind has been wrapped around the man down the hall who I spend more nights than not with.

*

Brodie is drunkenlyhitting on Blake again as they watch their favorite singing competition in the living room. Not that he doesn’t hit on her sober. He’s just a lot louder about it after a few too many.

Dante is watching them with curious eyes, his attention only drifting away when his phone lights up with a name across the screen that I can’t quite make out. He curses under his breath and closes himself in his bedroom, leaving the rest of us listening to a woman dressed like a monkey belt out lyrics. Whoever created this show must have been on drugs. But do we tune in every week? Hell yeah.

Brodie drapes an arm around Blake’s shoulders, tugging her into his side. “I’m telling you, woman, that’s Demi Lovato.”

“There isno waythat’s Demi!”

“What are you willing to bet?” he asks, his mouth tilting upward into a mischievous grin. “I think we could make this interesting. I’m thinking a kiss. Or maybe a blow—”

“Knock it off,” I warn him, smacking him in the face with a pillow.

Blake giggles as his arm loosens from around her. She stays tucked into his side, practically cuddling him despite the lack of entrapment. They’ve always gravitated toward each other, and I’ve always thought it was innocent. Until recently.

My nose twitches as Brodie catches my eye and winks, knowing he’s pissing me off.

Fucker.

I don’t have time to remind him to keep his hands off her before Dante comes sulking out from his room, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. My mom called.” Both Brodie and I look at him with our brows raised. “And my brother texted me. He’s going to be here tonight. Probably late. I’ll stay up to let him in.”

The quick subject change doesn’t go unnoticed by anybody in the room. Since he won’t tell us what his mother wanted, all I say is, “Okay. Tell him he can help himself to whatever’s in the kitchen.”

Dante doesn’t meet my eyes as he takes the seat he had before, his leg bouncing as he stares absentmindedly at the TV screen.

I don’t bother asking if he wants to talk about it because I already know the answer. He’ll scowl, grunt, and find something else to talk about or ignore me altogether. Sometimes it bothers me, but I’ve mostly gotten used to it by now. Not everybody wants help handling their demons.

Brodie tugs on Blake’s hair. “How do you feel about this? It’ll be a total sausage fest in here.”

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