“Here, I’ll do it.” Xander intercepts the phone and holds it out, smiling and snapping a couple of photos of them.
The girl takes it and hugs him, smiling from ear to ear before running out of the bathroom and apparently forgetting why she was there in the first place.
“Don’t be mad,” Xander pleads. “I can’t say no to a fan.”
“I know,” I sigh. “I’m blaming my pregnancy hormones on this irrational bout of jealousy.”
His lips lift into a small smile. “You’re always jealous, Thea.”
I frown, because he has a point there.
I shrug. “I don’t like sharing.”
He laughs, entirely amused. “You’re not sharing. I’m smiling for a picture.”
“Eh.” I wave a hand dismissively. “Can we not fight about this? I’m still hungry.”
“Aren’t you afraid you might get sick again?” he asks, tilting his head slightly to the side.
I narrow my eyes up at him. “I sneeze and have to vomit—so I’m going to have to take the risk.”
He laughs, pushing open the bathroom door. “Whatever you say.”
“I really wish I could suck on one of those lemons,” I mumble as we head back to our abandoned shopping cart.
“Not until we buy it,” he warns.
I roll my eyes. “Such a spoil sport.”
He grins back. “Someone has to keep you in line.”
Sadly, he has a point there.
We arrive back at the cabin—as Xander calls it, but seriously it’s a freaking mansion and calling it a cabin doesn’t do it justice—and unpack the groceries we bought. We got way too much, considering it’s Friday evening and we leave Sunday afternoon. Thankfully, we don’t live that far away—about three hours—so we can easily bring whatever we don’t eat this weekend home with us.
Xander unpacks the Cheez-Its and I grab them and the Nutella.
“What are you doing?” he asks, the bag crinkling as he unpacks the items.
“Watch and learn, kemosabe.” I unscrew the lid and pull off the seal on the Nutella, then open the box of Cheez-Its and break open the plastic bag. I dip a Cheez-It in Nutella and moan. “So good. You want one?”
Xander gags and shakes his head. “No, thanks. That looks gross.”
“It’s not,” I assure him.
“I don’t trust your cravings.” He shrugs and starts putting things away in the cupboards.
I shrug. “More for me,” I mumble, and dip another Cheez-It in the mixture.
I sit on the metal stool in front of the island.
The kitchen is a modern marvel with stainless steel appliances and granite countertops. The cabinets are a dark wood, darker than the wood floors. The walls are covered in reclaimed wood and siding and the ceiling is open up to the second floor, where it’s then tin with crisscrossing wood beams. The staircase is L-shaped and stands near the front door. Across from that is the family room, which has a stone fireplace, large couch, and two leather ottomans. There’s also a wall in there of solid books. I haven’t gone upstairs yet to check out the rooms, but I’m sure they’re just as lavish. Right now my priority is food and hopefully keeping it down.
Xander puts all the lemons in the bowl on the counter and then crosses his arms, bending to lay them on the counter. “You good here? I have to go check on something.”
I nod, completely absorbed in my food.
He straightens and jogs for the stairs, and I hear him pound up them a moment later.