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The smile on Jason’s face melts into something serious and intense. “If I wasn’t holding these bags”—his eyes briefly flick behind me—“and if Jackson wasn’t staring at us while eating dry cereal directly from the box, I’d kiss the shit out of you right now.”
I drop my hand from Jason’s face and spin around.
Through the wide-open front door, Jackson, shirtless and in plaid drawstring pajama pants, is standing in the hall with a perfect view of us.
He stuffs his arm back into the box of Froot Loops and pulls out a handful of cereal. With a full mouth, he asks, “Is it just because of the cereal? What if I was eating an apple or something, would you do it then?”
I bark out a laugh, and Jason rolls his eyes beside me.
“You’re an idiot,” Jason tells his brother, stepping over the threshold into the house, where he sets my bags to the side. “And now you’ve contaminated that entire box of Froot Loops.”
I follow Jason and close the door behind me to make room in the small foyer. My feet are on the soft rug, which I’ve immediately dirtied, and now I feel bad about not avoiding the puddles.
“Well, joke’s on you, because this is how I eat all the cereal in the house.”
“You’re disgusting,” Jason tells his twin, then turns to me and says, “We’ll get our own private stash of cereal.”
“What’s wrong with this one?” Jackson asks, licking his fingers then foraging through the box with that same hand.
Jason gives him a pointed look, to which Jackson responds, “We’re identical twins, we have the same DNA!
It’s basically your spit all over these Froot Loops.”
“I don’t know where your mouth has been,” Jason remarks, removing his shoes as I carefully peel off my socks to avoid tracking more dirty rainwater through the house. Jason walks through a door, but I don’t follow since my feet are soaked.
“Well, apparently yours has been on Siena—ugh!”
A small towel launched at Jackson’s face from the room Jason disappeared into cuts him off.
“No, itwouldhave been on me if you weren’t creepily watching us while ruining a perfectly good box of Froot Loops,” I joke as Jackson hands me the towel.
“You’re the ones who left the door wide open so anyone could eavesdrop,” he shoots back, crunching on the cereal loudly.
I dry my feet with the towel and fold my ruined socks together, and Jason hands me a fresh pair, which I slip on while he takes the dirty items to what I’m now assuming is the laundry room.
Before Jason returns, Jackson, in a moment of seriousness asks, “Hey, but for real, are you okay?”
Until Dario decides if he’s shipping me off to live with his cousin or taking me back or leaving me be, I’m technically homeless, but between Jason and Jackson in the last ten minutes, I’ve completely forgotten the reason I’m here.
“Yeah, I’m all right, thanks.”
“You hungry?” Jackson asks, offering the cereal box to me.
My stomach growls—I hadn’t realized how hungry I actually am. With everything going on, the last time I ate something, other than stress-eating the late-night bowl of ice cream, was at lunch yesterday.
“Don’t accept that,” Jason warns, joining us. “I’ll make us breakfast. Lunch?” He looks at his phone to check the time. “Brunch. You feel like grilled cheese?”
“I love grilled cheese,” I say, following him through the hallway. It’s clean and nice and very homey. The hardwood floors are light gray, and the walls are painted an off-white with lots of family pictures hanging on them.
There are big windows that allow for natural light, and it helps me feel less claustrophobic. The kitchen and living area are open concept, and big glass doors lead to a large patio outside. The entire house is open and airy, and I immediately feel comfortable in the space.
Jason grabs a pan from a drawer and gestures for me to sit as he gathers ingredients.
“I also love grilled cheese,” Jackson says, sitting beside me at the kitchen island as he loudly whispers,
“Of the two of us, he’s a way shittier cook, but we can indulge him.”
“That’s a lie and you know it, Jackson,” a woman’s voice interjects, and I jump up from the stool, self-consciously smoothing my hair into place and straightening my clothes.
