outrun him. “You’re falling behind, old man,” I call, running ahead. “Better keep up or you’ll be the laughingstock of the team.”
“Bite me, Delaney,” he barks, running harder.
Ah yes, I do love running with Kyle.
CHAPTER ONE
I plod next door into my Aunty Bett and my Uncle George’s apartment to borrow their carton of milk. I’m sure they adore having me live next door, especially when I continually steal all their food. I’ve lived next door to them since I was nineteen. They own the apartment block, living in the biggest one themselves. When I turned eighteen, they told me if I got a job, they would rent one out to me.
I’ve been in that one for nearly ten years now.
I was raised by Aunt Bett and Uncle George when I lost my mother and father at the young age of five. They died in a car accident, and Aunt Bett and Uncle George stepped forward and took me on. They were close with my parents; Uncle George and my dad were brothers. They became like my own parents and helped me through some dark times.
They have one child, Jed, who is only a year older than me. He’s my best friend and has been since the first day I was welcomed into their home. He used to climb into the bed with me when I was crying at night and hold my hand until I stopped. He’s like my own brother and I adore him. Though there are certainly times I’m sure he doesn’t adore me. I drive him a little crazy.
I slip into Aunt Bett and Uncle George’s apartment like the stealthy little crime fighter I am. I tiptoe over to their fridge and open it, pulling out the carton of milk. My clothes are still damp from my run, but I need a cup of coffee before a shower. It’s what motivates me the entire time I run.
“I know you’re not poor, Laney.”
I squeal and spin around to see Uncle George sitting at the table in the dark, coffee in his hands.
“Uncle George,” I cry. “Why are you sitting in the dark like a creeper?”
He chuckles. “Why are you sneaking into my house like a creeper?”
I grin and wave the milk carton. “I needed milk.”
“You can’t afford your own?”
I pout. “Well, sure, but yours tastes better.”
He snorts. “I wouldn’t know. Maybe if you went to the store every now and then, I might be able to come try some of yours.”
“Good point,” I say, waving the carton again. “Okay, I’m going to just borrow a splash and bring it back.”
He grunts as if he knows I’m not going to bring it back. I smile and walk over, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You know I love you, Uncle George. You’d be lost without me.”
I reach the door before I hear him grumble, “How can I miss you if you won’t go away?”
I smile all the way back to my apartment.
* * *
“You stole our milk again!”
The sound that fills my apartment comes from Jed and his loud, booming voice. I smile as I pull on my boots. Jed appears in my bedroom doorway a second later, glowering at me. Jed is the exact replica of George, with his raven black hair that falls messily over his brown eyes. His skin is olive and he’s tall and lean. He’s an athlete, and he runs for a living, and the look suits him.
“Morning, Jeddy,” I croon, zipping my boot.
“Don’t call me Jeddy, and give me back my milk. I can’t eat my damned Lucky Charms without any milk.”
“How old are you?”
He narrows his eyes.
“Why do you still eat Lucky Charms?” I continue.
“Because they’re magically delicious.”
I laugh. “I’ll pretend I never heard you say that. Besides, I thought you were all healthy eating?”
“I am,” he grunts. “But breakfast is my treat. Every morning. Don’t judge me, just give me the milk.”
“Can’t,” I say, standing and stomping my feet further into my boots. “I used it all.”
“Jesus, Laney, you’re such a little thief.”
I waggle a finger at him. “It wasn’t stealing, it was borrowing.”
He picks my half-empty coffee cup off the counter. “Then I’m borrowing your coffee.” He lifts it to his mouth and drains the cup.
After he’s finished, I say, “Joke’s on you because I just hocked a big loogie in that cup.”
He looks equal parts skeptical and disgusted.
I burst into laughter.
“I’m going to work. Later, handsome.”
“You wouldn’t really do that … would you?” he mutters as I walk out the door on my way to work.
Maybe today I’ll be given a case of my own.
Just maybe.