“You just complained they weren’t strong enough!” I laugh.
“I mean…” Erin takes another sip. “Mmm yeah, this is fucking yummy.”
“Language!” Glitch hollers.
Erin mouths “Fuck You” back at him silently. “It’s been a while since I’ve felt this giddy. I don’t think it’s the tequila. I think it’s the company.”
I know the feeling. “It’s wonderful to meet you. This dinner was amazing.” I get up and start collecting the dishes.
Erin places two more plates in the sink and leans against the counter. “So…” she shoots me a narrowed gaze. “When are you two getting married?”
I almost drop my glass. “Ummm.”
“Look, Glitch has never brought a girl home before. Not ever. If you aren’t the one, you wouldn’t be in my kitchen right now.”
I glance into the living room. Glitch’s back is to me. Can he hear us talking?
Erin goes on. “And he’s covered in paint. That’s not like him either.”
My stomach twists.
“He’s controlled and methodical, always. And a neat freak.”
Glitch’s voice rises from the living room. “I can hear you, Er.”
“Good!” Erin rolls her eyes at me playfully. “He’s an asshole about the way I load the dishwasher.”
“There’s a method!” he barks back. Glitch doesn’t even bother to turn around. All we see is the back of his head on the couch, and Beetle’s equally dark head of hair next to him.
Erin shouts back, “There’s gonna be a method to how I kick your ass next time you rearrange my silverware!”
Glitch flips her the bird over his shoulder and Beetle has somehow crept up behind us to snag a lime wedge. He looks up at me and smiles. “They’re always like this. You’ll get used to it.” He shoves the lime wedge in his mouth, between his front teeth and smiles at me again, with big, green lime teeth, before dashing back to the couch again.
Glitch gawks at him. “Whose side are you on, man?”
“My mom’s.”
“Traitor.” Glitch ruffles his hair, and I see they’ve pulled up Minecraft.
“He’s been bullied a lot in school,” Erin says in a soft tone. “Some kids apparently stole all his stuff in some world on there. He’s been really bummed about it.”
“Some kids are total assholes.”
“Some adults are total assholes.”
“Fair.” We clink our glasses and finish clearing the table.
Erin waves her hand over the filled sink. “Leave ‘em. I’d rather sit outside and talk.”
I follow her to the back patio. The small, fenced-in yard has a bike leaning against a tiny shed, and there’s a miniature half-pipe ramp and trampoline. “Your house is fantastic.”
“Thanks.” Erin plops into a chair. “It was our parent’s house.”
My heart sinks a little.
“Beetle’s in Glitch’s old room, which he loves. Fucker had the bigger closet when we were growing up.”
“Did he even use it for clothes?”
“Of course not.”
We both laugh. Guess something’s don’t change since his current closet is a recording studio.
Erin tilts her head. “Tell me more about you, Ara.”
“There’s not a lot to tell. I’d rather hear more about Glitch, honestly.”
“Well, I guess I’ll start at the beginning.” Erin slams her now empty margarita on the table between us. “He didn’t have many friends growing up. Got bullied a lot for his voice.”
White hot anger burns through me. “What?”
“They used to call him Deep Throat. It was a fucking nightmare. And it only got worse once our parents died.” She pauses. “You knew they were dead, right?”
“Mmm hmm.”
This must surprise her because Erin’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline. “He never talks about them.”
But he did to me. I cautiously take another sip of my drink before setting it down.
Erin pulls her hair back and ties it with a hairband. “After our parents died, I raised him, and now he’s helping me raise my son. We’re as close as it gets.”
“Close enough to call you at two thirty in the morning about dinner.”
“I don’t sleep much. Neither does he. We’re never on Do not disturb.” She rubs her eyes and yawns.
“Were you serious when you said he’s never brought a woman home before?”