“I’ll be fine,” he says, then pushes open the driver’s side door as my aunt opens the front door and rushes out, a kitchen towel thrown over her arm. She’s a woman in her fifties with greying hair and a stocky build. My aunt is the shortest one here. All of us tower over her. And yet she manages us all.
She’s an impressive woman.
My heart swells, and I beam at her. I talk shit about my family, and yeah, they’re wild and slightly insane, but they’re mine.
“The boys are here,” Aunt Del shouts and then rushes over to Whit, pulling him into a hug. He has to bend over to accommodate their height differences.
It’s so damn cute.
“Geez,” I say. “Feelin’ the love.”
She smacks me on my shoulder because she can’t reach my head and then pulls me into a hug. Instead of crouching like Whit did, I lift her off her feet and spin her around.
She shrieks and then smacks me again as Sem and Luke appear on the porch along with my uncle.
“You drovethatout here?” Luke says, whistling. “That car’s like a hundred grand, cuz,” he adds.
Sem, Luke, and my uncle move toward Whit’s car and stare at it. It is sleek. Dark grey too. Shocker.
“How’s she drive,” my uncle asks Whit.
“Smooth,” Whit replies.
“I expect to drive it tomorrow,” Luke says, and my uncle frowns at him.
“It’s polite to ask, Luke. I raised you better than that.”
Luke walks around to the other side of the car and then meets Whit’s eyes. “Let me drive it tomorrow, please.”
Whit taps his fingers and peeks over at me, and when he sees me watching them, he nods. “Sure.”
Luke whoops, and Sem opens the passenger side door, looking inside.
“Warned ya,” I tell Whit and then squeeze the nape of his neck and follow my aunt into the house.
My aunt turns toward me in the kitchen and asks, “How you doing, sweetheart? Really, be honest with me.”
“Fine,” I say with a shrug.
She stares at me, trying to read my mind.
“Okay, I believe you. I know its…. hard being here. You going to be okay?”
I pull her into me and give her a good squeeze. “I’ll be fine, Aunt Del.” It’s partially true. Iwillbe fine. But my aunt still thinks I moved away my senior year because I hated living with them.
I didn’t. I practically grew up here, but I just needed space to breathe after my mom passed.
That and the commute was killer.
“Whit’s a good distraction.”
“He’s something,” I mutter, and my aunt watches me a moment before slapping her hand onto the counter.
“Okay, enough of that. On to other things. I want to be as accommodating as possible because there isnojudgment in this house. So you and Whit will sleep in your old room.”
“Sounds good,” I reply and then snag a cookie from a plate on the counter and shove it in my mouth.
“There’s only one bed,” she adds, and I shrug, like that fact doesn’t thrill me.