by Emma Hart
“He would,” I murmured, making her laugh.
The sound of her laughter carried me up to the counter. I ordered her latte and cheese Danish, adding a second pastry for me and a regular coffee. Paula, the girl who worked behind the counter and my ex-manager, added the employee discount of twenty percent with a wink and told me she’d bring it over when it was all ready.
Thanking her, I headed back to the table.
“So, you’re in a war with my brother.”
“About as close as two twenty-something millennials can get without throwing avocado toast at each other.”
Angelica snorted. “Oh please, everyone knows we millennials can’t afford avocados.”
That.
Totally that.
They were expensive, man.
“Well, yeah.” I laughed and leaned forward on the table. “He brought the hedgehog to the apartment without telling me—”
“Oh, Jesus.”
“—And I kind of have a thing about small animals that aren’t cats or dogs.” I gave her a brief explanation of the anti-hedgehog chat. “Anyway, on Saturday, I find he’s moved my candles. I know it was deliberate because he’s desperate to get under my skin because I banned Mr. Prick.”
“Mr. Prickles.”
“Oh, I know. I did that deliberately.”
She laughed. “Go on.”
“So before he got home on Saturday, I switched the sugar out for salt.”
Angelica’s grin was evil. Pure evil and riddled with satisfaction. “He takes three sugars in his coffee.”
“And apparently, two rounds of teeth brushing, a bottle of water, and numerous curse words.”
She nodded slowly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Excellent. I’m here for that kind of brutality. So, what do you need my help with?”
Right then, our coffees and pastries were brought over. I took mine, and Angelica got started on her Danish as if it was going to grow legs and jump off the table.
I guess pregnancy made people crazy.
Hell, I felt like that about food in general, so if she only felt like that because she was pregnant, then she had more self-control than I did.
“Okay. I know Ethan has to have a weakness somewhere. I can do all these silly things to him in response to what he’s going to do to me, but I want to get under his skin.”
Angelica nodded, dabbing at her mouth with her napkin. “I get that. He and I had some intense fights growing up, so he’s not going to be easy to get at. If you want to really get at him, you’re going to need to find his weak spot.”
“Exactly. I feel like I’ve thought of everything with Halley and Reagan’s help; toothpaste for shaving cream, shampoo for hair removal cream, biting into all his snacks, sugar for salt, stealing the insoles of his shoes—”
She choked on her latte. “That’s being saved for the next time my husband pisses me off.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied. “Stupid shit like that, you know? It’s what he’s going to do to me. Little things that are just goddamn inconvenient. But if he replaces my shampoo with my hair removal cream, I’m going to chop off his balls with a butter knife and choke him on them.”
“Totally reasonable.” She nodded slowly. “Okay, so other little things: if you don’t use cable, you could cancel it. It will make him rage.”
“I don’t use it,” I admitted. “I usually watch Netflix and Prime Video, and I’ve been toying with getting a Hulu subscription.”
“There you go. While you’re there, delete his Netflix profile on your account so he has to start his list again.”
“How do you know he has a Netflix profile on mine?”
“Because he hasn’t logged into my account for at least four days, so I figure he’s using yours.”
“Huh. Yeah. What a jerk.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, sister.” Her lips pulled to one side. “This way, he’ll probably get a Hulu subscription and pay for it so you can use that.”
“I like the way you think.”
She grinned. “You’d feel the same about your brother.”
Probably.
“All right, so I have all these now. And I’m totally canceling my cable, for what it’s worth.” I wiped the grease from my Danish off my fingers. “There has to be something else, right?”
Angelica frowned. “Like what?”
“His big issue. I don’t know. His crux. The thing that stymies him. His Achilles heel, I guess.”
“His Achilles heel?”
“Yeah. The one thing that really gets to him. There has to be something that really gets under his skin. Isn’t there?”
Angelica took a long drink of her latte and set it down. Slowly, she sat back and linked her fingers over her bump, her blue gaze firmly locked onto mine. “You wanna know?”
“Yes. What is Ethan’s Achilles heel?”
Her throat bobbed, and she said one word in response. “You.”
CHAPTER SEVEN – ETHAN
Salty As Fuck—Literally
I wiped my face with the nearest cloth and quickly dropped it to the floor. It was covered in oil, and I knew it’d done more damage than good to my face.
Shit.
I ducked into the staff bathroom and scrubbed at my face. I didn’t know who the idiot was that made oil and water repel each other, but I wanted to have words with them right now.
Yesterday, it was salt in my coffee.
Now, it was oil on my face after cleaning up.
Shit.
It’d been one of the longest Mondays in the history of the world, and I was so fucking glad it was over.
I grabbed my stuff from the staff room, and after waving goodbye to my uncle and the other guys in the garage who were finishing up with an oil change for an elderly lady, I slipped out of the side door and headed toward my car.
I needed to come up with a way to get back at Ava. I swore I could still taste the salt if I touched my tongue to the roof of my mouth.
Yep.
I could.
No amount of scrubbing and mouthwash was going to get rid of it.
It was going to haunt my fucking dreams, which was fitting since Ava was already doing that.
I pulled out of the parking lot and turned in the direction of the store. There had to be something in the grocery store that would give me inspiration to pay her back for the salt.
That, and I needed to buy more sugar. And a safe for my sugar. Just in case.
I pulled into an empty spot near the entrance and grabbed a cart on my way in. We’d never discussed how this would work—did we split the bill? Did we buy our own food? What about shared meals?
I stopped and pulled my phone out of my pocket to text her.
ME: Do you need anything from the store?
There. I was being a nice person, even though she didn’t deserve it. My phone rang almost immediately, Ava’s name flashing on the screen.
“Why are you calling me?” I asked as soon as I answered.
“Because I’m at work, and it’s quicker to argue this way,” she replied without missing a beat. “Yes, there are things we need. We’re out of toilet paper, plus we need milk, eggs, bananas, and Lucky Charm cereal.”
“Not a lot, then,” I said dryly. “All right. Anything else?”
“Yes. Sugar.”
“Hold the phone; we’ve got a comedian on our hands.”
Ava sniggered. “I have to get back to work. I’ll give you some money later. Bye.”
The line went dead, and I put the phone back in my pocket. Everything except the cereal was pretty standard, and I wasn’t going to take her money for it. It wasn’t like she’d asked me to buy her shampoo or whatever lived down the lady aisle.
That was an aisle I wasn’t going to walk down.
I loaded the cart with everything we needed, doubling back to get her cereal. By the time I was done at the register, I was more than a hundred bucks lighter and had adulted so hard that it was a shame I was dri
ving and couldn’t drink a beer in the car.
I drove back to the apartment and pulled into an empty spot. I almost pulled into Ava’s designated one, but knowing her, she’d take my car keys, move the car, then hide my keys.
I had to pick my battles better than that.
I grabbed all the bags and headed upstairs to the apartment. I almost dropped one, but good old-fashioned determination and the handles slicing into my fingers got me to the front door. After spending a good minute fumbling with my keys, I let myself into the apartment and dumped the bags on the floor.
It took fifteen minutes to put it all away, mostly because I still wasn’t totally familiar with the kitchen.
That was the last time I spent that much on food.
I picked up the last item—the Lucky Charms—and put them on top of the fridge where she kept the other cereal.
And froze.
People ate Lucky Charms for one reason.
The marshmallows.
A grin spread across my face. Yeah—this was the appropriate fucking revenge, all right. She was going to lose her shit, and I was going to laugh my fucking ass off.
I grabbed the box back down and hunted the cupboards for a plastic mixing bowl. Locating one in one of the bottom cupboards, I put it on the island and emptied the entire box into the bowl.
One by one, I picked out the marshmallows, putting them in a plastic Tupperware container, until the mixing bowl was full of marshmallow-less cereal.
She was going to kill me.
I carefully put the cereal back into the box, closed it up, and put it on top of the fridge. It was the only box there, so I knew she’d open this one tomorrow.
God, I hoped she woke up before I left for work.
I’d be late if it meant I could see her face.
It was, hands down, the most passive-aggressive thing I’d ever done in my life. Right along with the gentle nudging of her candles.
Man, that pissed her off.
I laughed to myself as I went into my room. Mr. Prickles was asleep, so I refilled his water and left him alone.
I still didn’t know how I’d ended up the owner of a hedgehog. It was definitely my mom’s fault, though. That much I did know.
I checked my phone and, instead of cooking, ordered a pizza, happy with my payback.
***
“Why is the spiky pig sitting in my shoe?”
I looked up from the article I was reading on my phone and over at the door. Mr. Prickles was indeed sitting in one of her running shoes, and he was staring at her, almost taunting her. “Maybe it’s comfortable.”
“I wouldn’t run in shoes that weren’t,” she replied, putting her glasses on. “But that’s mine.”
“So go and move him.” I picked up my cup of coffee and sipped.
“I’m not touching it. They have fleas.”
“Wild ones, sure. He gets flea treatment?”
“Flea treatment? Dear God, Ethan.” She pulled the Lucky Charms down from the top of the fridge. “Did you open these?”
I nodded. “I bought them.”
“I told you I’d give you some money.”
“I’m sure I can part with two or three dollars for some cereal I’m going to eat, too.” I peered up at her as she grabbed a bowl.
“Fine.” She opened the box and tipped it. A yawn scrunched her face up, and she almost spilled the cereal all over the island, but she caught herself before that happened.
She froze.
“What’s wrong? Is there a spider in there or something?”
“There are no marshmallows.” She was looking down at the bowl as if it were an algebra textbook. It was fucking adorable. “They’re the best bit. Did yours have marshmallows?”
My lips twitched. “I said I opened it. I never said I ate some.”
Her pink lips parted, and I swore I could see the moment recognition dawned on her. “You!”
“Yes, sunshine?”
“You took out all the marshmallows!”
“Did I?”
“You damn well know you did!” She shook the box of Lucky Charms at me. “What kind of fucking savage are you?”
“A vengeful one.” I lifted my mug to my lips. “I told you this was war, Ava. It’s not my fault if you didn’t listen to me.”
She grabbed a handful of the cereal and let it fall through her fingers into the bowl. “This is some passive-aggressive bullshit. I thought you meant, like, actual war. Not this.”
“Well, you should have thought about that before you put salt in the sugar jar.”
“You should have thought about it before you moved my candles.”
“Yeah, you’re right, they’re totally comparable.”
“Ethan!” she snapped, shoving the bowl in my direction. “This is brutal. What did you do with the marshmallows?”
I grinned. “I ate them.”
“You ate all the marshmallows?” Horror flashed across her features. “What kind of a sick bastard are you?”
“Again, a vengeful one.”
“What am I supposed to eat for breakfast now?”
“Something not aimed at getting kids addicted to sugar before they’re fully capable of wiping their own asses?” I suggested. “Like fruit? Or granola? Or even toast?”
“No. I wanted Lucky Charms.” She huffed and without another word, took her bowl and the now apparently ruined box of cereal and dumped it all in the trash.
Literally all.
Even the bowl.
“Did you mean to drop the bowl in there, too?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
The pout her lips formed told me she did not.
I laughed. “You should probably get that back out.”
She made a noise that sounded a bit like an angry chicken before she reached into the trash can and pulled out her bowl. “I’m going to get you back for this.”
“You can try.”
“I don’t need to. I already know I can. I spoke to your sister.” She smirked. “And now it really is game on.”
My sister?
Aw, shit.
Angelica knew way too much—like how I had a very inappropriate attraction to Ava. I didn’t think she was stupid enough to tell her that, but there was every chance she would. There was probably some shit from when we were younger that she still had to pay me back for.
“All right. Then I’ll talk to Leo,” I countered.
“Do it.” Ava grabbed an apple. “He’s got less imagination than this apple.” She bit into it, the crunch filling the room, and swept past me to go to her room.
I clicked my tongue and grabbed my phone.
ME: Need to piss off your sister. Help.
He replied quickly.
LEO: Isn’t living with her already doing that?
ME: We’re in a passive-aggressive fight.
LEO: Normally I’d suggest sleeping with her and running out before she wakes up, but you have to go home after.
ME: You’re suggesting I sleep with your sister?
LEO: Not specifically. Just a general thought.
ME: Help me. I stole all the marshmallows out of the cereal and now she might be assembling an army in her room.
LEO: Hahahahahahaahhaa that’s cruel as fuck, dude.
ME: Exactly why I think she’s gathering an army.
LEO: Steal one of all her socks so she can’t find a pair. I did that when I was fifteen and she fucking murdered me.
ME: At least it’ll mean I win.
LEO: True.
LEO: You could always leave the hedgehog in her room.
ME: Then she’ll kill the hedgehog.
LEO: A worthy sacrifice.
ME: No.
LEO: Put empty bottles back in the fridge every time she takes them out.
ME: That’s cruel. I like it.
LEO: Yeah. So. When are you gonna admit you have feelings for her?
ME: No feelings. Not that kind.
LEO: Yeah. K.
ME: No feelings.
&n
bsp; LEO: The more you protest the less I believe you.
ME: I gotta go to work.
LEO: Avoidance is a stage of denial.
ME: I’ll punch you in the nose. Avoid that.
LEO: I will. You punch like a fairy.
ME: Thanks for the help.
LEO: No problem. By the way, mission accomplished. She just texted me telling me what a fucking sadistic prick you are.
ME: I’ll sleep with one eye open tonight.
LEO: My advice? Don’t sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT – AVA
It’s On, Bitches
Marshmallows were such an irrational thing to be angry about. I knew that. Everyone knew that. I didn’t even have the excuse that I was on my period anymore.
Nope, the monthly notification of not having a human being forming in my uterus was over.
The problem was, everyone knew you didn’t buy Lucky Charms for the cereal. It was for the marshmallows. They literally sold just a box of those, which was what I was now eating as I sat at a table in the library.
The little kids were all kind of… staring at me.
It was a little scary. No wonder people were genuinely afraid of them.
I had, however, swiftly enacted my revenge in the form of a double hit. I was no longer paying for cable, and I’d not only deleted Ethan’s profile from my Netflix account, but I’d changed the password, too.
And logged out.
Everywhere.
Ev. Er. Ee. Where.
I chuckled to myself as I shoveled a handful of marshmallows into my mouth.
“You know,” Halley said, buttoning up her jacket as she approached me. “It’s really weird that you’re just sitting there eating those from the box. Are you okay? Do you need an intervention?”