“I had help.”
Her smile spread. “Jase is here?”
I nodded as I leaned against the counter. “He’s upstairs sleeping.”
She smoothed back a few strands of hair that had escaped her twist. “Well, I’m sure a certain someone will be thrilled to see that you’ve brought him along with you.”
My brows lifted and then I groaned. “Please tell me she is not still infatuated with Jase.”
Mom laughed softly as she shrugged off her oversized sweater, draping it along the back of her chair. “I think ‘infatuated’ would be the wrong word to use.”
Rolling my eyes, I groaned. When I’d been on home confinement, Jase had spent almost every free moment up here, pulling my head out of my ass. And Teresa had spent every spare second spying on us and stalking Jase.
Mom drifted over to the coffeemaker, pulling out the empty pot. “Jase is a really nice boy. I think—”
“Do not even think about going there,” I warned, folding my arms. Jase was a good guy—a good guy, with a shit ton of baggage and a long list of broken hearts, who wouldn’t come within ten feet of my little sister. “Where’s Dad?” I asked, deftly changing the subject.
“He’s still at the office, but he’ll be home shortly.” She filled the pot with water. “I was thinking we all could do dinner at Joe’s. I think both you and Jase like that place, and as long as it serves red meat—”
“Dad will be happy.” I smiled, pushing off the counter. “That works for me.”
“Want a cup?”
“Sure.” I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, squeezing her. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best mom ever?”
She laughed as she patted my arms. “I’m the only mom you got, boy.”
“Still,” I replied. “Best mom.”
I let go as she shook her head and was in the process of heading upstairs to wake up Jase’s lazy ass when Teresa came in the front door.
“Cam!” She let out a high-pitched squeal when she saw me in the foyer and dropped her book bag. The pint-sized terror took one step and launched herself at me.
Laughing, I caught her before she knocked me down. “Well, hello to you.”
“When did you get here?” she asked once I sat her down.
“This morning.”
She smacked my arm. “You should’ve texted me! I would’ve skipped my afternoon classes and come home early.”
“I heard that!” yelled Mom from the kitchen.
Teresa rolled her eyes, and I laughed. Somewhere in the last two years or so, she’d grown up from a gangly child into a stunning young woman. And every time I saw her, I wanted to pull a paper sack over her head. Everywhere she went, guys looked, and they really looked.
She had inherited the dark hair and blue eyes from Dad, but she had Mom’s delicate features. Her beauty and small frame were really misleading, because she had also developed mom’s snappy, quick wit. When she and Mom got going, no one was safe.
“I’m going to skip dance tonight,” she said, tugging the tie from her hair. It seemed to have grown overnight, falling well past her shoulders.
“You don’t have to do that,” I told her. “I’ll be here all weekend.”