Page 19 of Just This Once

“Fuck you. I’m not your beck-and-call boy. I got you here, and that’s all I’m doing. End of story.”

“Grumpy,” I warned, lifting my eyebrows sternly to let him know I wasn’t playing around. I didn’t want Alec to insist that I stay with him because I wouldn’t be able to say no to Alec—he was my favorite person in the whole world; denying him anything was no longer within my abilities—and there was no way I could stay here. I just couldn’t. I hadotheragendas in town than merely to see him.

“Would you stop fucking calling me that,” Parker growled, stepping closer.

“Or what?” I countered, stepping forward as well, glaring up just as hard as he was glaring down. “You gonna hit me?”

The idea made him hiss with satisfaction as he sent me a hard smile. “I really wish I could sometimes.”

“Oh, so you’re going to say something cruel and shocking to make me cry instead,” I countered as if impressed, only to narrow my eyes. “Like you did when you told me to stop whining right after my dad died…when I wasten.”

His jaw worked before he huffed out a defeated breath and grabbed my two suitcases before turning on his heel and silently storming back outside again.

I exhaled in a rush, always slightly amazed whenever I managed to win an argument with him.

Gah, but that was exactly what living was about, right there.

I must not have been the only one left in awe, either, because someone whistled behind me, clearly impressed.

“Holy…shit,” Bashful’s girl marveled. “I’ve never seen Parker give in to something he hasn’t wanted to do before.”

“Howdidyou get him to back down?” Sleepy’s other half asked when I turned back to the trio.

“And wait…” Mrs. Happy held up her hands, waving them to interrupt. “Did you call him Grumpy? And Damien Bashful? Oh my God. Do you have a Seven Dwarfs name assigned toallof them?”

By all of them, I knew she meant the seven, which were what people tended to call my brother and his best friends.

I blinked, wondering why the answer wasn’t already obvious, before saying, “Of course.”

“That is so cool,” she trilled excitedly. “Which character did Foster get?”

Really? “Which one do you think, hon?”

She thought it over before frowning slightly. “Well, he better be Happy.”

“Bingo.” I winked. “So… Is Alec home by chance?”

“Not yet,” the short one answered with furrowed brows. “He should be any minute, though. And Damien’s notthatbashful, you know.”

“To you, maybe,” Mrs. Sleepy snorted. “I don’t think he’s said two words to me.”

“Hey, I got him to nod at me in hello once,” Mrs. Happy spoke up with perky teasing.

Turning back to me, Mrs. Sleepy demanded, “Who the hell is Hudson supposed to be?”

To her right, Mrs. Bashful took her turn to snort. “He’s napping on the couch in the front roomaswe speak; do you really have to ask?”

“Wait. He’swhat?” I demanded in outrage, my mouth dropping open. “Sleepy’s here? In this house? Right now?Notworking? Oh, that filthy, rotten fibber.”

No one was allowed to tell me they were working when, clearly, they weren’t.

Not about to let Hudson get away with lying to me, I stormed toward the front room, ready to set him straight.

4

HOPE

When I charged into the living room, I found the backs of two couches turned away from me so they could face the large-screen television hanging from the far wall.

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