“I should go help her,” Rosie says, lifting her chin toward the bathroom as I step back into the hallway.
I grab Rosie’s arm before she walks around me. “When she’s done, I expect answers before anyone goes to sleep tonight.” I glare at her, letting the little spitfire know I’m pissed, in case she hadn’t clued into that little fact already.
Rosie nods with a heavy swallow, staring up at me with a deep frown. “Okay,” she whispers.
She’s gone as soon as I let her loose, closing the bathroom door behind her.
“I take it this isn’t the first time they’ve shown up at your place like this?” Arlo asks before walking toward me.
I shake my head. “Those two are nothing but trouble, Ar. Total shitshow.”
She wraps her arms around my middle, resting her cheek against my chest. “They seemed really sweet at your grandma’s.”
“They’re good at appearing one way in front of the family and another way with those who know them best. If you looked up party animals in the dictionary, you’d find a picture of those two.”
“There are no pictures in the dictionary, honey,” Arlo teases, squeezing me tightly as her body shakes with laughter.
“Arlo,” I warn, hanging on by a thread because those two interrupted what I’d hoped would be a very eventful night. “Come on. Let’s go to the living room unless you want to listen to the show. There’s going to be lots of groveling and promises about sobriety she’ll never follow through on.”
“Poor thing,” Arlo whispers, peeling her body away from mine. “Is she even old enough to be drinking?”
“Not until next month.” I take her hand, leading her toward the couch, and collapse backward, bringing her with me. “I imagine you were never like them.”
Arlo settles in my lap, her legs on the cushions, pressing against my thighs. “There was a time when I was a little out of control.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You?”
She nods, smirking. “Me.”
My hands find her ass, cupping her cheeks in my palms. “Tell me about that Arlo.”
She shakes her head. “She wasn’t very nice.”
“Impossible,” I whisper, staring into her haunting green eyes.
Arlo has been nothing but reserved and sweet. Thinking about a side of her that is anything but is truly impossible for me to imagine. Visualizing her in the foster care system is also something my brain can’t quite grasp. I would’ve bet a chunk of money that she came from a family much like my own, and I would’ve lost and lost big.
She leans forward, resting her forehead against mine. “I went through a rebellious phase when I was seventeen, realizing I was about to lose the little bit I had. I started hanging around with the wrong crowd and…” She pauses and pulls her head back, looking me straight in the eyes before continuing. “I didn’t put much thought into how my behavior would only make it easier for the family I was living with to let me go.”
I tighten my grip on her ass, bringing her closer as my chest aches for what she went through. “Sucks, sugar.”
“Yeah,” she whispers, her gaze dipping to my chest before coming back to my face. “Didn’t realize what I’d done until it was too late. Kids do stupid shit sometimes, Mello.” She ticks her head toward the hallway where Luna and Rosie are. “Even good kids like your cousins.”
“They’re not kids anymore, Arlo. At some point, they have to grow up.”
“Rosie is sober.”
I nod slowly. “She’s slightly more responsible than her sister, but they’ve both been pulling shit for years.”
Way too many years for my liking. If Uncle Joe and Aunt Suzy had any clue, these two would’ve been grounded most of their high school years. But now, they’re older, wilder, and usually no more smarter in their decision-making process.
“Well—” Arlo places her palms flat on my pecs, totally feeling me up, but pretending she isn’t “—maybe you need to step into their life and set them straight or tell their parents about who their daughters really are.”
I turn my head to the side, sucking in air between my teeth. “Can’t snitch, babe. My family does not snitch on one another, especially not the cousins.”
She slides forward right over my dick that’s aching for some relief but knows we’re getting none. “Then you’re going to have to be the one to show them the way, or at least tell Gigi, so she can handle them and put them on the right path.”
“Fuck,” I hiss, hating the idea of getting involved in their bullshit.
I have always been good with women, but my cousins are another breed. I am stepping out of my comfort zone, never having had to deal with sisters. That is the good thing about only having Trace. He is an asshole, but I know how he thinks since he has a dick too.
The bathroom door opens, and Arlo gives me a look. The same look my mother gives me when she’s telling me to do something without actually saying the words.
A second later, Arlo’s weight shifts, and the warmth of her body is gone as she moves to the cushion next to me.
“Out here,” I call out before they have a chance to disappear into one of my guest rooms like they have in the past.
“But Luna should…”
“Out here,” I growl, not even bothering to turn around to look at them. “We need to talk.”
“Fucking great,” Luna groans. “Just what I fuckin’ need.”
I bite my lip, tilting my head, feeling the tension rise in my shoulders. Arlo touches my hand with hers, giving my fingers a light squeeze.
“Calm,” she whispers.
Calm? I have always been calm, and that’s why I am still dealing with their shit nearly five years later.
This must be a sliver of what it feels like to have kids and deal with their nonsense on a daily basis. Am I built for this type of responsibility, disappointment, and heartache? I’m not sure the answer is yes.
Luna’s still leaning on Rosie as they walk slowly into the living room, their eyes moving from Arlo to me and back to Arlo.
“Sit,” I bite out, done with their shit.
“What?” Luna snaps before her ass even touches the couch cushion directly across from me. “I’m tired and need to sleep.”
“Fuck that,” I hiss.
“God, you’re such a downer. Find yourself an innocent snatch, and you turn into a killjoy.”
What the fuck?
My body rises on its own, her words fueling a fire deep inside me, but before I have a chance to lunge over the coffee table, Arlo yanks me back down.
“Carmello,” she whispers, holding on to me tightly.
I take a deep breath, running my other hand down my sweatpants so I don’t reach over the coffee table and—
Fuck, what the hell do you do when you have girls?
As a boy, growing up Caldo, if we talked shit, my dad would call us out. And if we continued, that’s when things went south in a hurry.
He didn’t hesitate to let us know he could beat us to a pulp if he wanted, but he never did.
The fear was there and felt very real, but not once did he lay his hands on us.
We knew enough to put our attitudes away and beg for forgiveness. This clearly isn’t a skill my two little cousins have learned.