Page 89 of Reticent

I almost chickened out. So glad I didn’t. I’m kinda feeling myself right now.

Aria

As you should, Queen!

I raise my hand to ring the doorbell when the front door swings open, startling me. There’s a guy on the other side of the door, and he momentarily looks surprised by my standing here, but his surprise morphs into pure rage. Based on the tattoo sleeves covering both arms down to his wrists, I assume it’s Victor.

“I— I’m Yasmine. I’m here to see my sister, Skylar.”

Ice-blue eyes narrow at me before Victor barrels past me. Okay … That was intense and rude as hell. It’s decided. Quentin’s brother is an asshole. I step through the open door as his car peels off down the street.

“Sky!” My voice rings out through the quiet house. I close the door behind me.

“I’m in the bathroom. Liam’s asleep in my bedroom. He went down over an hour ago.”

I walk up to the bathroom door, putting my hand against it. “What was that about?”

“What was what about?” Her voice sounds clogged. Has she been crying? Oh, hell no.

“Are you okay, Sky-Sky? What happened?” I twist the door handle, but it’s locked.

“I’m fine. Nothing happened.” I call bullshit.

“I don’t believe you.”

She gives a weak laugh. “Seriously, Yas. I’m good. I just need a minute.”

The tension in my shoulders ease slightly. If that psycho-looking, tatted douche bag said something to her, I swear to God… “I ran into Victor. Almost literally. Did he and Esme just have a fight?”

“No,” is all she says.

My brows drop in concern. “Did he say something to you on his way out?”

“He’s a jerk.”

“Yeah, I gathered that.” Esme needs to check her man before I do. No one fucks with my baby sister.

“But I’m fine. Now can I please have some privacy?” I hear the smile in her voice, which further calms my sister-bear spirit.

“Take your time. My boobs are killing me.” I massage the top of my right breast. “I’m going to go feed Liam.”

“Okay. He had a bottle about three hours ago.”

“Perfect.” I start to leave but then I stop. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m … on my period.”

That explains it, I guess. “Cramps?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

I wince. “I have some Midol in my purse. Want some?”

“No, I'm good.” She gives a soft chuckle.

“I brought you a pumpkin spice latte,” I say, wanting to make her feel better. “But do you want some tea? I can make some for you?”

“No. The latte is perfect.”