Jackson lives in a small town of Montrose his whole life. After several bodies are found in the area, the police come to a conclusion that a serial killer is on the loose. The investigation has drawn the attention of the FBI, and their team soon put...
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When I come to the living room the next day, I'm greeted with the sight I'd never guess I'd see.
Wade's sitting on the couch and watching TV, yeah, no surprise there. But next to him, curled under a comforter, is Lana. Her head is resting on his thigh and I see a bucket laid by and a wet towel on the table before them. I arch my eyebrows at him in a silent question.
"What? She was sick early in the morning." He smirks down at her. "Looks like we broke her in on the secret of nasty hangovers. She doesn't have a clue about how to handle it."
My eyebrows go even higher. "Is that so? You suddenly Wade-The-Caretaker or something?"
He gives me a mock offended look. "You say it like I don't know how to be nice to a girl. I can be very nice!"
I snort at that. "Sure, being nice to women, that's how you usually get them!"
And as an answer, he flat out laughs at me. "You are one to talk, that yesterday wasn't very you either, mister 'Don't touch her, she's here with me!'."
I guess he's trying to mimic my voice but fails miserably, he has a hard time to even speak because of the laughing, which eventually makes Lana stir and groan next to him. I can't believe my own eyes when I see Wade pet her head, lulling her back to sleep, his laughs softens.
When she seems to be sleeping again he looks at me and whispers!
"What was that anyway? I thought you said you two aren't fucking, or something changed there?" He suddenly stops smiling and points his finger at me. "Are you? Because if you are actually fucking her I will be very pissed you had me to handle her drunken ass!"
I just shake my head and go make some coffee. I'm so dropping him at his place the next time. I don't care if he'll have to walk back here to get his bike, I don't want to listen to his bullshit first thing in the morning. I need my caffeine.
I start a pot and go through the fridge again. Looks like Wade had quite a few snacks during the night because there is not much left. I look to the couch, maybe Lana wouldn't mind to make us some eggs when she wakes up. I see Wade slipping from under Lana's head, putting a pillow there instead and then going to stand beside me.
I groan internally. Is it too much to want to have a quiet morning?
He nudges me away from the fridge. "Baby brother, I don't know how you survive here all that time, by yourself," he says while he takes out the eggs.
Can he read my mind or something? Wade looks at me then. Fuck! He can! He sneers at my expression and continues with the cooking. With his back to me, he adds. "You might be slowly catching forty, but sometimes, you look again like the little boy I used to take care of."
"Fuck you!" I snap and go to the couch, when I remember that Lana sleeps there, ugh. So I turn around, go back and sit at the table, waiting for my breakfast, just like the little boy I once was. Fuck!
