kneels next to the couch after I start a trashy zombie flick with lots of boobs and bad dubbing.
“Do you need me to stay with you?” he asks.
“No, I know you’re horny and want to plow your woman before bed.”
Despite allowing a small grin, he still wants to pout about how I won’t let him kill Goliath. “True, but that can wait until later.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not, though.”
“Do you think Taylor would ditch Kelsi and come hang out with me?”
“Yes.”
Smiling, I pat his hand. “She’s a good friend.”
“Are you going to call her?”
“No, I just wanted to know if you thought she would ditch everything for me. I need to know I’m important.”
“I feel as if I should stay here with you.”
“No, I’m fine. I have the dogs and the movie and the ghosts. I think I felt one earlier.”
Shane struggles not to roll his eyes. He doesn’t buy the ghost thing, but that’s because he’s psychically constipated. No one’s perfect, not even my baby bruv.
“Promise you won’t punish Goliath,” I say, causing him to scowl. “I know as my darling brother that it’s your duty to protect your big sis, and you’ve always done a wonderful job. This time, though, you need to stand down.”
“He’s an asshole.”
“Yeah, but he never made any promises. Or claimed I was special. I made myself believe things about him and us. He never did anything to encourage my fantasies. It wouldn’t be fair to punish him when I created an entire romance in my head.”
Shane’s dark eyes flash with rage. “I still want to stomp him.”
“I know, but he’s large and might fall on you. I can’t have my baby bruv trapped under a dead giant.”
My brother allows a smile again. I think of Ramona cuddled up in bed, waiting for her love. Disappointment washes over me, and the tears follow.
“What’s wrong?” he whispers, squeezing his hand.
“I want River.”
Shane’s face goes through several expressions before landing on horrified. “Now? He’s with Max.”
“No, not him specifically. I want a man like him. Or one like you or like Dad. I want a man who sees me and goes crazy inside. What if there’s no one in the world for me like that?”
“I know he exists. How could someone as amazing as you not have an amazing man waiting for her?”
Shane’s words soothe my bruised heart. “You should go be with Ramona before she falls asleep. I bet she dreams better after you nail her.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take care of you?”
“I always want that, but I’ll feel guilty.”
“Maybe you should avoid gory movies,” he suggests as the first zombie chows down on the dumbest cop in the world.
“It’s cathartic. Besides, I have Hansel to keep me safe,” I say and run my fingers over the dog’s little head.
Shane relents to my prodding and goes to find Ramona. I snuggle under the blanket and watch stupid people get killed by slow-moving threats. Having seen the movie a dozen times, I’m quickly bored and doze off.
The sound of a motorcycle outside wakes me, and I allow myself a moment of hope that Goliath has shown up to stake his claim. He’s crazy about me! I’m special! No other woman will do! My hot pussy warmed his cold, dead heart!
Instead, the Harley belongs to a club brother escorting Maude home from her stripping job. I hear the front door open and then her heels clicking against the hardwoods.
Maude peeks her head into the room and then keeps walking. I assume she’ll go to bed despite her usually coming down for cocoa and mini muffins.
I know I should move to the sitting room that I use for my bedroom, but I’m too lazy to get up from this couch just to end up on a different one. Besides, Gretel is comfy on my feet while Hansel snuggles against my tummy. No reason to wake the dogs.
Ten minutes after she arrives home, Maude returns to the TV room where I now watch 1959’s “House on Haunted Hill.” Freshly showered and in a comfy pink nightgown, she sets her cocoa on the side table and takes a bite of a muffin.
“Why were you crying?”
I reflexively reach up and rub my face. While my cheeks aren’t damp, I assume my face remains blotchy. “The romantic ideas in my head didn’t pan out.”
“I’m sorry. Goliath doesn’t seem like the romantic type.”
“No, he isn’t. I wanted him so much that I pretended his personality fit mine. It’s fine, though. I’m