5
The weekend tried my patience.
Saturday had Nate’s family piling into ours, and more f****d up weather had us penned indoors. Other than dinner of the best damned stroganoff on the planet, during which Kyle and Brook’s mouths were too occupied with eating to take up any tongue action, the day had gone along pretty much like any other day. As in, we all got to watch them making out. A lot.
To top it, when evening had come and I’d reached for my boots, and asked if anyone had seen my keys, Nate had ordered me to stay home for the night.
Bloody ordered me.
Which’d left me squashed in the living room for the remainder of the day.
On the sofa.
Right next to my brother and his ever-loving cat.
Hadn’t helped that Josh had seemed to be laughing to himself every time he’d glanced my way.
