Chapter 18
There’s someone in my house.
I can hear the rustling downstairs. They’re moving around. Opening doors and cabinets.
Probably taking things that don’t belong to them.
Still half asleep, I snatch the baseball bat from beside my bed and stumble toward the staircase, silently cursing the intruder for interrupting a good dream. Something to do with eating a hot stack of pancakes that tasted like coconut.
Nonsense, but I was enjoying it.
If this is one of my cousins, I might still use the bat. I didn’t give any of them a key for this exact reason. Not that waking up to them pounding on my door is preferred, but at least they aren’t stealing my food that way.
The rustling sound comes from the kitchen.
Raising the bat, I bark out a loud, “Hey!” at the same time I flick on the light.
“Fuck!” The shrieked curse comes a moment before I’m hit in the face.
With a loaf of bread.
“Damn it, Arthur! You scared the hell out of me!”
Robin.
Of course.
I’m so used to living on my own that my sleepy brain forgot another person is staying in my house.
Although person is a bit of a loose term at the moment. Robin sits on the kitchen counter, wearing a baggy, oversize shirt, and holds a half-eaten sandwich. Some makeup she didn’t properly remove is smudged around her eyes, and she’s tied her hair up in two high buns.
“You look like a raccoon,” I mutter.
It’s the hair. The two bumps remind me of fuzzy ears. Pair that with the black under her eyes and the middle-of-the-night food scrounging, and she’s gone full trash panda.
“What?” Robin turns her head so her right ear faces my way, and I realize I spoke too quietly on her left side.
Normally, I’m better at remembering, but again, it’s the middle of the night.
I try reconsidering the decision to call her a type of vermin, but my tired brain is on a delay, and I can’t think of anything else to say. So, I repeat my previous comment, clearly for her to hear.
Robin does not appreciate my observation, if her glare is anything to go by.
“Thanks,” she grumbles. “So, you stumbled out of bed to scare five years off my life and tell me I look like a rodent?”
I grunt, “Heard noises. Thought someone broke in.”
Her hostile expression morphs into chagrin. “Shit. Was I being loud? I’m sorry.”
I run a palm over my face, trying to get my mind to work at a normal pace. “Why’re you up?”
Robin shrugs. “I’m not really a sleep-through-the-night kind of person. I take a lot of naps. Interspersed with snacks.” She holds up her sandwich. “Want some?”
Now that she’s offered . . . yeah, I kinda do.
Leaving the bat leaning against the wall, I shuffle farther into the kitchen, take the sandwich from her, bite off a chunk, then hand it back. Turkey, tomato, cheese, and spicy mustard. Good choice.
As I chew, I notice her open laptop on the table. Robin sees the direction of my gaze.
“I was doing classwork,” she explains. “Get my best ideas in the middle of the night.”
When I turn back to my temporary housemate, my eyes drop to her bare legs.
“No pants,” I mutter.
She huffs a laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ve got underwear on.” She pokes my chest. “Which I might point out is the only thing you’re wearing.”
Ah. Right. Glancing down, I remember that I sleep in briefs and nothing else. My hairy chest and legs are on full display.
“I’m going back to bed,” I announce. Maybe I am in bed, and this is all a weird dream. My mind still hasn’t sharpened enough for me to be able to tell. Plus, I can still smell that delicious coconut.
“Good night,” Robin calls after me.
“Get some sleep,” I tell her.
And I hope she wasn’t lying about why she’s awake. If my asshole cousin is also screwing up Robin’s healthy sleeping habits, he’ll have one more thing to answer for.