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We watched the two of them head back out into the night, and then I turned to look at Avery.
“Interesting,” she murmured.
I glanced at her, grinning. “I guess they are together.”
She raised her brows as she nodded. “I’d say something is most definitely going on there.”
The combination of the Erik/Debbie situation and Jase’s absence did not bode well for my good old liver, but it was doing great things for my mood. By the time I was halfway through my fourth cup, I didn’t care that Jase wasn’t around. Maybe later, when Avery coaxed Cam outside as planned, I’d go and find Ernest . . . or Edwin. Whatever his name was. And I would prove to myself that baggage-free guys could kiss just as well as Jase, if not better. That was my plan. But first, I needed the little girl’s room before I died.
“I need to find the potty.” I stood just as a Ping-Pong ball flew across the garage and bounced off the dartboard once more. “You need anything?”
Avery shook her head as she glanced at her barely touched cup of beer. “You’d probably want to use the one upstairs, on the second floor,” she suggested, looking up with a smile. “It’s not as gross.”
“But still gross?”
She nodded. “Pretty much.”
“Wish me luck then.”
Giggling, she scrunched up her face in distaste. “You’re going to need it.”
I headed for the door to the house at the same moment Cam darted away from the table and descended on Avery. It was like he’d been waiting for me to leave, to sneak in a kiss. And, boy, did he kiss her. Clasping her cheeks in his hands, his head lowered until there was no space between them.
A smile crossed my lips, but there was a pang in my chest—a throb of envy. And that was wrong. I shouldn’t be envious of my brother’s relationship. Both of them deserved the kind of love they shared, but I wanted to know what that felt like. To know firsthand the kind of love that healed instead of harmed.
Aaand I might be a tad bit tipsy.
In the living room, Erik’s and Brandon’s fingers were flying over their controllers. Both of their faces donned identical masks of concentration and determination. Debbie looked up from where she was perched on the arm of the couch beside her boyfriend, an extremely bored look marking her pretty face.
I sent her a sympathetic smile instead of asking her why she was sitting in here if she was so bored. I already knew the answer. Because Erik wanted her there, where he could see her. Control her. A bitter taste crawled up the back of my throat as I started up the stairs. I needed to get out of the room before I called him a dick again and threw a “face” on the end of it.
Took a few moments to get up the steps. My depth perception appeared to be wonky at the moment. At the top of the landing, I stopped and stared down the hall. “Oh . . .”
There were several doors on either side, most of them closed except for the one at the end of the hall, and that was clearly a bedroom where a hoarder of Mountain Dew bottles lived. Ew.
Having no other choice but to start opening doors, I started with the closest one to my left. I knocked softly and when there was no answer, I tried the handle. The door was locked. Hopefully that wasn’t the bathroom. The next room was an empty bedroom and the one after that was a laundry room with jeans and socks piled all over the floor.
Good God, they needed a house mom or something.
Closing that door before I started a load of laundry for the sad, sad creatures who lived here, I stepped around a pair of sneakers left in the middle of the hallway and went to the next door. I rapped my knuckles off the door and when there wasn’t an answer, I reached down and twisted the handle. The door swung open easily, revealing not a bathroom, but a rather neat bedroom and—
Oh my God.
The room wasn’t empty.
I knew what I was seeing and it only took seconds to take it all in, but my brain was slow to process everything. And that made it feel like forever.
Jase sat on a chair, his back to the organized desk. There was a pink box sitting there. I knew what was in it and for some reason that . . . that made what else I saw so much worse. His shirt was halfway unbuttoned, as if he’d grown tired with pushing the little buttons through their holes. His legs were spread wide, jaw locked and his arms hanging limply at his sides.
He wasn’t alone.
Twelve
Standing before Jase was the kind of girl that could make me feel like last week’s dried vomit on a good day. She was beautiful. Long, thick black hair shone like glass and a tan, tight body hinted at being soft in all the right places.
Her shirt was off.
She wore only a denim skirt and a lacy red bra that proved some breasts could defy gravity.
