“So are swear words.” Maverick crosses his arms, still glaring.
“Yup. Got it. No swear words.” He squats down so they’re eye to eye. “Are we good?”
“No!” Maverick shouts. “You didn’t tell my mama sorry.”
“What’s going on in here?” Stella asks, glancing around the kitchen. “Y’all’s yelling woke me up.”
When no one immediately answers her, she shuffles over to the coffee pot and pours a cup. “Seriously, the tension’s thick enough to cut with a knife. What gives?” She turns to me. “Did my numbskull brother do something stupid?”
My eyes widen as everything snaps into place. My hottie’s not a stalker. No, he’s something far worse—my roommate’s freaking brother. Why, God, why?
“It was a misunderstanding,” I mumble, not wanting to rehash my allegations. The last thing I need is Stella thinking I’m insane and kicking me out.
Her eyes ping-pong back and forth between us. “What kind of misunderstanding?”
“I…” I clear my throat, “I just didn’t realize he was here. Surprised me, that’s all.”
Stella smacks her palm against her forehead. “Oh my goodness! I am so sorry. I didn’t even think to tell you he was crashing here last night. It was so late when he called me and—”
“It’s fine,” I say, cutting off her apology. “This is your house. You don’t need to ask or tell me anything—I was just caught off guard, that’s all.”
Maverick rolls his eyes. “Can you just tell my mama sorry so we can finish making our Pamcakes?”
My hottie rolls his eyes. “I’m very sorry for—”
“Forgiven.” I’m on a roll with speaking over people today. I turn to my son. “Do you want me to help you make them?”
He looks between me and my hottie before shaking his head. “No. He can. He says he knows the top-secret ingredient.”
His rejection hurts, but I quickly school my features in a pleasant smile. “Okay. Cool.” Turning to face Stella’s brother, I add, “Well, I’m Frankie… It’s nice to meet you, I guess.”
He stares at me for a minute, and for a split second I can’t help but wonder if he’s playing dumb. “Orion, and you’ve certainly made this Saturday morning interesting.”
The urge to bang my head into the wall is strong, but Orion already thinks I’m crazy; no reason to add fuel to that particular fire.
“Frankie, you wanna join me in the living room while the boys cook?” Stella asks.
My heart sinks. I knew this was too good to last. Tears threaten to fall, but I refuse to let them. “Okay.” I swallow hard. “Let me just grab a cup of coffee.”
Stella smiles and nods before walking toward the living room.
I skirt around the edge of the kitchen to the coffee pot, quickly pouring myself a mug. As much as I’d like to take my time before facing Stella, there’s no point. This conversation is like taking off a Band-Aid…
Better to rip it off.
Hottie—I mean Orion—keeps his sharp gaze trained on me until I leave the kitchen. Somehow, it feels like he is assessing me and undressing me all at once. Which is kind of funny since he’s basically seen me naked; he just doesn’t know it.
Stella pats the cushion next to her when I walk into the room. “Sit, let’s talk.”
I inhale a deep breath and then release it slowly before joining her. “I’m sorry about this morning,” I start, but she waves me away.
“Not even an issue. I know better than anyone how wonderfully frustrating my brother can be. I literally didn’t have friends until college because of his overbearing ass.”
“My brother’s pretty overprotective, too. Or he was—he’s too busy now.”
She smiles and then takes a sip of her coffee. “So, I need to talk to you about something.”
Here we go. “Okay, what’s up?”
Stella leans forward and places her mug down onto the coffee table. “I want to preface this with you can totally say no, because I want you to be comfortable here.”
“You’re not kicking me out?” I blurt out, every bit as astonished as I am thankful.
“What? No. Are you kidding? Why would I?”
I shrug sheepishly and look down at my coffee.
“Anyway, I have a big ask, but like I said, you can say no.”
“Okay… What is it?”
“Orion kind of needs a place to stay for a bit, and he was hoping he could stay here.”
“Oh.” I blink, trying to process her words.
“It’s a long story, and he was staying with our parents, but he kind of feels like he’s cramping their style, and our mom keeps trying to set him up with every single woman she knows under forty.”
“Um.” For some reason, my brain and mouth can’t seem to get on the same wavelength. Because I have plenty to say, and yet none of it will come out.
“Like I said, if you’re not okay with it, he’ll just have to deal with living at home until he finds his own place.”