Page 82 of Room 4 Rent

“I know. Thank you. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

She hangs up, and I get the text with Sadie’s number. She tells me to meet her at the house, so I do.

Tatum’s in the family room watchingFrozen. No surprise there.

Sadie gasps when she sees me. “Duuuuuude, your face!”

Right. Forgot about that for a minute. “It’s not that bad.” I roll my eyes, setting my bag on the floor next to the back french doors I’ve been in and out of the last couple of weeks, and usually in the middle of the night.

“Uh, yeah, it is.”

“Think Syd likes a man with battle wounds?” Fuck. Why’d I ask that? Dammit. I shouldn’t have.

Sadie laughs. “Boy, you got it bad for my sister, don’t you?”

“Sadly,” I mumble.

“Hang in there, slugger.” She reaches for her cell phone on the kitchen island. I smirk, thinking of me fucking her sister on it. “I have to go. Can I trust you with her?”

I lift my eyes to hers. “Who are you referring to? Because you’re pointing to Tatum, but I think you mean Syd.”

She doesn’t correct me.

I chew on the inside of my cheek, my heart thumping faster than before. “I’m not going to break her heart, if that’s what you mean.”

“Good. Because if you do, I’ll burn your baseballs.”

From the look on her face, she’s fucking serious. “Noted.”

“There’s shit in the freezer for her to eat, but don’t you dare touch my wine.” She motions to the counter, reaching for the door handle and giving the look. “I marked the bottle.” She’s about out the door and turns. “Slugger?”

I lift my eyes to hers. Waiting.

“Don’t tell her I told you this, but they both think you’re pretty special.”

Fuck yeah.

Sadie leaves, and I take my phone with me into the family room where Tatum is sitting. At first, she doesn’t notice me sitting on the couch. Until I throw a pillow at her head.

Turning, she scowls and then notices it’s me. “Boy!”

“Miss me?”

She drops the remote on the ground, barrels over a mountain of couch cushions she’s ripped from the furniture, and onto my lap. “Boy, you got an owie.”

“Does it look that bad?”

She nods. “Ow.”

“It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

She stares at me, searching my eyes, and holds out her hand. “Belly beans?”

I wink at her and reach inside my pocket. “I got the hookup. These ones are all cotton candy.”

Her eyes light up and she curls in beside me. “Want to watchFrozen?”

“Only if we can fast-forward to Olaf.” I wrap my arms around her waist and haul her into my lap. Soaking in her scent, I realize I’m fucked. Kissing the top of her head, I whisper, “He’s the best.”

She does that thing where she takes my arms and wraps them around her tighter. “I know.”

How’d this three-foot-tall jelly-bean monster work her way into my heart so easily?

Easy. She’s the spitting image of her mom.

---