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George grins at me. “She’s like the sister I never had.”
“Hey!” Iris gives his arm a punch. “I’m your sister!”
“No, you’re my twin. Totally different, ’Ris.”
“Whatever.”
As George and Iris debate whether there is a distinction between “twin” and “sister,” I lean in close to Drew. “Their constant bickering may have factored into George moving out.”
He chuckles and takes another bite. “This is good, by the way.” He glances at my plate. “You sure you have enough?”
I stop his move to offer me some of his with a touch to his hand. He’s warm, and I want entirely too much to twine my fingers with his and tug him out of here. I pull back.
“That’s sweet, but this is fine. I cooked this more for you.”
His expression goes soft. “Thank you, Anna.”
The space between us grows close, quiet, as if Iris and George aren’t squabbling, as if we’re alone. His large thigh presses against my smaller one and heat blooms along the connection.
When he speaks, it’s low and just for me. “So, ‘Banana,’ huh?”
I give him a look. “If you call me that, you’ll lose a finger.”
A little dimple forms along his left cheek. “Why a finger?”
“Isn’t that where the bad guys always start? Lose a finger, then an eye, maybe an ear...” I shrug. “Seemed appropriately threatening.”
“Oh, very. Don’t worry, Jones. I’ve learned my lesson. No cutsey nicknames for you.” His index finger taps the tip of my nose. “Our relationship is special that way.”
There it is again. That R-word. I take a bite of frittata. The eggs have gone cold.
“Well, I’m out of here,” announces George.
Iris’s face scrunches up. “You said you were going with Henry and me to the movies.”
“You don’t need me being a third wheel, ’Ris.” George wears the same expression I’m sure I do when talking about Henry: valiantly trying to hide disgust. “And I’m not in the mood to be one.”
Iris plunks her fist on her hip. “Hasn’t stopped you from going out with us before. Besides, it was your idea to go to the movies.”
George simply shrugs. “Changed my mind. It happens.” He turns to Drew. “Good to meet you, Baylor. I gotta say, you do some impressive work on the field, man.”
Et tu, George?
Drew takes the praise in stride and simply smiles. It’s a polite smile, not like the ones he gives me when his eyes light up and a dimple graces his cheek.
“Thanks. I try my best. Good to meet you too.”
George isn’t gone for more than a few minutes when the lock to the apartment door turns and Henry walks in, key in hand.
“You gave him a key,” I hiss at Iris. There is no way I’m letting Henry have open access to our house.
She has the grace to wince. “Not permanently. I’ll get it back.”
“Now,” I insist in a low voice. Beside me, Drew is frowning, having heard the exchange.
Henry saunters up to the breakfast bar. “Sweetness.” He gives Iris a messy kiss, but his eyes are on the rest of us. Mainly Drew. He does a double take as recognition sets in.
“Battle Baylor.” He sets a hand on Iris’s hip. “I thought I was seeing things.”
