~ Jake ~
The house felt empty as f**k without Mom and Dad.
They’d left for some corporate weekend bullshit, and for the first time in months it was just me and Mia, four years of sharing space and four years of acting like “step” meant we weren’t constantly aware of each other in ways we weren’t supposed to be.
I was leaning against the kitchen island, arms crossed, when she stormed in and attacked the fridge. The door slammed shut hard enough to make the condiments rattle.
“You ate the last yogurt again,” she snapped. “I literally wrote my name on it.”
I smirked before I could stop myself. That flash of anger in her eyes always hit me right in the d**k. “Sharpie on the lid. I read it as community property.”
“f**k off, Jake. You do this every single time.”
She was in those tiny sle
