Page 33 of Just This Once

“I can be professional as a tenant too.” I waggle my eyebrows, but she doesn’t think I’m cute.

A shame.

I thought it was a good line.

And even later, when it’s time to punch out, I tap my knuckles on Taryn’s makeshift desk until we’re done with the renovations on this floor and smile when she glances up. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Or, maybe, earlier if you want me to move in upstairs.”

Her exhale is pure vexation. And maybe it’s my need to please her that has me leaning down, catching her chin between my fingers. “I’m bringing you breakfast tomorrow. Do you want hash browns or potatoes on the side?”

It takes her a second to answer, her brows drawn down, eyes unfocused as they roam my face. “Uh, potatoes.”

“You got it.” I touch the pad of my thumb to her lower lip, remembering what it was like to touch her clit. Make her mouth pout so prettily in pleasure. “Later, duchess.”

Her voice is still dreamy when she answers. “Bye.”

I think I won that round.

Chapter 11

Taryn

The doorbell rings, and I curse under my breath. I haven’t gotten my “Take One” bowl ready yet, and already, the trick-or-treaters are arriving. I grab my giant mixed bag of chocolates and tear it open, some spilling on the floor in my haste, but when I open the door, it doesn’t matter. It’s not kids in costumes. It’s a package delivery.

I pick up the small box and set the candy down on the kitchen counter, noticing it’s from my brother Roman. More than curious, I swiftly and carefully cut through the packing tape and peel back the side to find a Post-it with big sloppy words written out.Sorry it’s late. Happy Birthday.

I haven’t directly spoken to him in a long time, and I’m beyond surprised to receive a gift from him. My breath catches when I tug the item out of the bubble wrap, a small ceramic vase in the shape of Lucy Ricardo fromI Love Lucywith an opening where her red hair would be for a flower or plant. It’s so cute and perfect, and I’m…touched.

A mixture of warmth and melancholy spreads through me as I trace the outline of her painted face, a smile tugging at mylips. Mom and I used to watchI Love Lucytogether all the time. It was our favorite show, and in a house full of boys, it was our special time together. We cuddled on the couch, eating popcorn and laughing at the ridiculous antics Lucy always pulled off.

This vase isn’t just a gift. It’s a reminder of those treasured moments.

And for how much I am still so mad at Roman, I will always love him. I pull out my phone and send him a text.Thanks for the vase. It’s perfect.

I don’t expect a reply—Roman’s never been one for long conversations or quick responses—so I pocket my phone again in time for Jake to saunter through the front door and into the kitchen, dropping his bag on the floor. He’s still sweaty from soccer practice, and I point to the slow cooker in the corner. “Sloppy Joes.”

He loosely pumps his fist in the air a few times before moving to help himself, making three sandwiches and taking the entire bag of chips over to the table.

“What are your plans tonight?”

He shrugs.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

He nods, mouth full.

October 31 falls on a school night this year, and while I think it’s totally fine for high school kids to continue trick-or-treating, Jake is much too cool to go. So he’ll probably stay home and sleep or do homework or whatever it is fifteen-year-old boys do in their room that I don’t want to know or think about.

“Andi’s coming over with the twins, and Mari and Clara will probably stop by, and can you please stop shoving whole sandwiches in your mouth like that? You’re gonna choke.”

He doesn’t listen, stuffing Sloppy Joe number two down his throat like he’s never eaten in his life. Frankie sits at his sidewaiting for something to drop, and when it doesn’t, he whines until Jake places his plate on the floor for him to lick up before diving into the chips, nearly finishing the whole bag. He is the reason I need to have a renter—to support his appetite.

By the time I’ve finished breaking down the cardboard box from the delivery, throwing away the garbage, and finding a place for the vase to sit, Jake is done eating. He rushes away without a word. “Hey,” I call after him. “Get your bag.”

He reverses a few steps, picks up his bag, and then continues. I’m told by the time he graduates he’ll find a personality again.

Fingers crossed.

Just as I hear the water turn on upstairs, the doorbell rings again, and I open it up for Andi and Griffin’s twins. Logan is his father’s mini-me from his hair to his posture, but he’s much more gregarious, though he’s got blood painted on his face now. I’m not sure what exactly he is, but I’m guessing it’s a zombie. Grace painted her face green and has her hair braided underneath her black witch hat with matching dress. The Elphaba to Maddie’s Glinda. They’re obsessed with the movie. Spent an entire weekend in my living room learning the dances fromWicked.

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