Cage is nothing like Terry.
And yet… there’s something I can’t quite put my finger on that seems a bit off.
Shrugging to myself as I hold up a white t-shirt with some type of orange stain on it—probably spaghetti sauce that never came out in the wash—I tell myself that Cage and I need to have a frank discussion about what it is that’s bothering me. It’s definitely centered around his job and the dissatisfaction he has with it, hence his unwillingness to talk about it.
I make it through the top two drawers—the pile of items I’ll need to determine if they give me enough joy to keep growing larger—and start to open the third on the bottom when someone knocks on my door.
I tense, not because I’m worried about unexpected visitors at my apartment, but because it might be Brian stopping by to cause me heartburn. With a sigh, I push off the carpeted floor, exit my bedroom, and move to the front door. Eye to my peephole, I exhale in relief to see not my brother, but my sister.
After unlocking the chain, deadbolt, and regular lock, I open the door to find her grinning while holding two bottles of wine.
“What are you doing here?” I ask in surprise. She rarely drops by, despite the fact her apartment isn’t that far from mine. She moved out of the dorms and into an apartment with roommates her sophomore year.
“You said you were doing some “spring” cleaning even though it’s not spring, and you have ignored me all week.” She holds the bottles of wine out more prominently. “So I decided to come to you and bring wine as well.”
It’s true. Laney had been trying to nail me down for dinner, drinks, or both this week, but I just couldn’t face her knowing I was keeping a huge secret from her. So I kept putting her off with my “I’m busy spring cleaning” lame-ass excuse. I never in a million years thought she’d just drop by unexpectedly. She’s not that type of sister, even though I’d never close the door in her face even if she were.
Except now.
Now I want to close the door in her face as I’m not ready to look her in the eye and keep this secret.
Reluctantly, I motion her in, trying to put a smile on my face but failing miserably.
She notices. “What’s up your butt?” she asks as she walks in.
As I close the door, she whips around with a horrified expression. “Oh my God… did you and Cage break up, and you’re in here sulking, hiding away from the world, and listening to sad music?”
I roll my eyes, a smile coming to my face unbidden. “Of course not. Cage is merely away on a trip as I told you. I’m just busy working, and I don’t have time to socialize.”
“I’ll help you clean,” she says brightly, moving over to the small counter that separates the living room from the kitchen. She rummages in the drawer she knows holds my wine opener. “And we’ll drink while doing so.”
“I’ll pass,” I murmur, not because I’m remembering my Vegas headache, but rather I’m afraid wine will loosen my tongue.
“Nonsense,” she scoffs. “It’s your favorite, and you’re drinking at least one glass with me.”
“Fine,” I snap. One glass can’t hurt.
Laney grins and pours two hefty glasses, pushing one across to me. She holds hers up for a toast. “To sisters.”
“To sisters,” I repeat, then take a sip.
I can do this. One glass of wine, then I’ll usher her out, claiming the need to get to bed early for work tomorrow.
?
Laney tips the last bit of wine from the second bottle into her glass, having just topped mine off. She giggles, exclaiming, “I can’t believe we killed both those bottles.”
“You’re totally staying here tonight,” I say sternly.
She gives me a snappy salute, and I laugh. I did not drink as much as she did, but this is my third full glass, and I’m past the mellow point and heading into drunk territory. Laney’s pretty drunk.
Helping to organize my room never happened. We decided we needed snacks with wine, so I pulled out some meats and cheeses, along with grapes, and we sat at the kitchen island drinking, eating, and talking.
She wanted to know all about Vegas, but luckily, that was while we were on our first glasses of wine, and I was able to give her the details while skirting around the wedding. We then moved onto other subjects, and while Cage came up periodically, I was able to hold my tongue.
“Oh, by the way,” she says with an exaggerated wave of her hand that sloshes wine. She ignores it as she leans across the counter a bit. “Brian hit me up for some money this weekend.”
My eyes flare wide. She doesn’t know about my money troubles with Brian, and I’m thinking since I was gone to Vegas, he went to Laney instead.