Page 111 of Not In The Contract
I’d been lucky enough once in my life to find not only my sister, but a group of friends who loved me to death and back. I wouldn’t be that lucky again. Jamie’s personality was manageable. She had phases, episodes, almost. Periods of time when she was a lot clingier and demanding, and I’d attributed it to the times she must have felt most alone in her childhood.
Like her birthday, for example. Of all the times I could turn her away or tell her to turn things down a notch, I’d never do it on her birthday. I could never be that cruel.
“Oof, rough day?”
I didn’t bother with a verbal answer. I’d been emotionally wrung dry by brunch, and all I was interested in was sleeping.
Devon, it seemed, had other plans. “Here you go.”
I looked up in time to see her slide a teacup across the kitchen counter to me.
“Is it poisoned?” I joked, but it was a half assed attempt at humor if the genuine surprise on Devon’s face was any indication.
“Did someone try to whack you?” she gasped, her voice dropping conspiratorially.
“Whack me?” I chuckled, gratefully accepting the chai she’d made for me. “Did you have a mafia movie marathon without me or something?”
She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway.
“No,” I clarified needlessly and took a sip of the chai. “This is so good, holy shit.”
“Tam recommended it!” she declared, grabbing the box and waving it in my face. “She said it’s rare and usually impossible to find here. I remembered that you enjoyed it. Do you like it?”
I stared at Devon, probably for far too long, as her words sank in. “I love it,” I said. “It’s exactly my taste.”
She beamed at me, and suddenly my shitty day wasn’t that shitty. I was still dead on my feet, and she must have noticed.
“I’ll call for dinner,” she offered. “Do you want anything in particular?”
“Just sleep,” I said sarcastically.
“Har har, I cannot contain my laughter,” she deadpanned. “Seriously, you should eat. I’ll get us dinner.”
She dashed out of the kitchen to grab her phone and I leaned against the countertop. The marble was cool beneath my forearms, and I glanced around at the somewhat messy kitchen. It was undoubtedly Devon’s kind of mess. Nothing was dirty, but there were far too many things out of place, as if she’d picked them up and then forgotten them entirely.
Warmth spread in my chest as a single thought solidified in my mind. Devon’s mess was one I could get used to. She reappeared at that moment, tapping away on her screen.
“I think we could probably get some pad thai, right?” she mumbled. “And some dumplings, do you have a preference?”
You, I thought, and then violently shook my head of the thought.
“Whatever you want,” I said instead, hoping my voice was steady where my heart raced.
She rolled her eyes again. “For all you know, we could have completely different tastes in dumplings,” she pointed out, but went right back to ordering.
Even if we did have completely different tastes, it’d be easy to live with. If it meant it was Devon’s taste I lived with.
“We’re already two sides of the same coin,” I replied, not sure if she could hear me. “What’s one more difference to keep things interesting?”
37. Family Ties
Devon
“Didn’tItellyouto keep that thing in its cage?!”
I stifled a chuckle as I stepped into Tamera’s family home, the chaos inside already at a boiling point.
“But Mom said I could take Stephen out for a little bit every day!” came the sharp, high-pitched cry.
