Living with the Lockhart Boys [Completed]

Chapter Fourty Three: Gotcha!

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Sam whispered, tugging me to a stop outside the house.

I rolled my eyes. He worried way too much sometimes. This time, he was worried that I wasn’t ready to go to a party after what had happened at the last one. “I’m fine, c’mon.”

“Okay,” he mumbled, under his breath.

I pushed through the door. “Honeys, I’m home!”

“Hey Cher,” Nicky called from the dining room.

I followed his voice, not that I needed to seeing as I knew my way around his house as well as I did my own.

“Holy shit,” I muttered, staring blankly at the table. “D’you have Jamie Oliver cook that food, or what?”

Drew chuckled, from on top of the ladder where he was hanging streamers and flags. “No, but we did use his cookbook.”

“Dad, used his cookbook,” Nicky corrected playfully.

I skipped across the room and hugged Nicky quickly, noticing that he didn’t seem awkward anymore when I did. Things were starting to go back to normal.

“Speaking of your Dad, I want a cake,” I demanded.

“Get it yourself, lazy shit,” Drew teased.

I shrugged. “Okay. Sam, you want anything?”

“No thanks,” he said, slumping into a chair.

I went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. I’d missed Alan’s fridge so much. It was always filled with yummy stuff, like cream cakes and doughnuts and pop that they had left over from the bakery. I grabbed three bottles of coke and three cakes to bring back in with me.

“Did you get me a doughnut?” Nicky asked as soon as I walked in.

“Nope,” I lied smoothly. “These are all for me.”

He pouted and batted his eyelashes. He looked too cute when he did that; I kind of had to give him the doughnut. Well, I didn’t give it to him; I launched it towards his face. But Nicky, with his awesome skills, plucked it deftly form the air before it could hit him, to my disappointment.

“So, d’you guys want a drink?” Drew asked, grabbing his beer.

“Oh, speaking of drink, here,” Sam said, handing them the bag of booze we’d found in my Dad’s liquor cabinet. I’d refused to carry it because, well, I was the girl and he was the guy, he was supposed to carry it, right?

“Wait,” I said, grabbing the bag and pulling out my bottle of vodka. “This one’s mine.”

Nicky frowned and snatched it out of my hands.

“Hey!” I protested.

He put it down on the side top and grabbed a glass, pouring a vodka and coke before handing it to me.

“You forgot the ice,” I told him. Hey, if he could be difficult, so could I.

He rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen to get me ice. I grinned when he came back

“Thank you. When’s everyone getting here?” I asked.

“About twenty minutes. You’re real early; loads and loads of time to help us,” Drew said sarcastically.

“Hey we bought booze, and I went all the way into the kitchen to get you doughnuts and drinks,” I argued.

Nick snorted. “Only because you wanted some.”