“Chinese.” I shoved a bite of food into my mouth and kept my eyes on my bowl.
“Oh.” He sighed wistfully.
“They gave me an order of crab rangoon by mistake.”
“Really?” His hopeful voice filled the room.
“Yeah. I put them in the fridge. You can have them if you want.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not going to eat them.” I shrugged. “You don’t have any food.”
“Dad and Crystal seem to think I can feed myself on fifty bucks a week.”
What the hell? There was no way in hell Jules could eat on fifty bucks a week, even being the thrifty spender he was.
“They’re idiots.”
“Yeah.” He snickered. “They could at least pretend like they care about us.”
“Or Riley.”
“Or her.” Jules padded across the room and into the kitchen. “I really wanted to hate her.” He opened the fridge, and thepopof a takeout container being opened followed.
“Same.” I dragged my fork through my noodles, not looking up at him. “But it’s not her fault they made her.”
“No.” Crunching and chewing filled the silent room. “She’s the only person in this whole family I don’t hate.”
My chest tightened uncomfortably. “Hard same.”
His footsteps faded. Then his door clicked shut. Only then did I look up.
I needed to end whatever the fuck this was now.
As amazing as fucking Jules had been, it couldn’t happen again.
We needed to go back to being stepbrothers who hated each other.
I needed to keep my damn hands to myself before this got any messier than it already was.
* * *
I wasn’tsure when it happened, but leaving food for Jules in the fridge became a thing I did.
I didn’t order out every meal, but when I did, I made sure to get an extra portion of something for him.
We didn’t talk about it, didn’t acknowledge it, but deep inside, I liked knowing that Jules was eating better and thatIwas the one who was making it happen.
Nor did I have any idea why I’d bought a fancy coffee maker like the one Mom and Ken had off the school’s for sale site, or why I’d put it in the kitchen with a stash of premium coffee for both of us to use.
I’d told myself it was because I was being responsible and that making coffee at home in the morning was preferable to buying a cup every morning on my way to school.
That was only part of it. I was doing okay money-wise, but it would only last so long. I needed to start cutting back on my expenses, or I’d run out of cash before the end of the semester.
The other part was because I didn’t like the idea of Jules drinking that instant swill every morning. He never complained, just accepted it the way he did everything, but I couldn’t deny the thrill that had gone through me the first time I’d seen him standing by the coffee machine, a smile on his lips as he’d sipped on a fresh cup.
Taking care of Jules made me feel good. It gave me a sense of purpose and a feeling of rightness.