Drunk Sisters Should Be Bred: Whole Family Breeding - Brother and Sister 1

Drunk Sisters Should Be Bred

Whole Family Breeding - Brother and Sister 1

Rayne Vice

Miles found her sitting on the curb outside the party with her shoes in her lap, going through her clutch for the third time.

"Keys," she said, before he said anything. "Don't. Don't start. They're in here somewhere, I had them at the, I had them when I got the drink, or the second drink, definitively by the second drink, and then Dana wanted to go out back and see the, there was a thing out back, a fire pit, a fire pit situation, and my hands were full, and I either put them somewhere or they're in the fire pit, Miles, I might have sacrificed my keys to a fire pit like a pagan."

"You called me."

"I called you because you're the only person I know who answers after midnight who isn't legally obligated to." She looked up at him, mascara smudged into gray halos, the little black party dress riding up her thighs, and she looked, he thought, exactly twenty and exactly wrecked. "Also I love you. As a brother. In a normal way. Don't make it weird."

"I'm not the one making things weird."

"You're so weird right now. You're being weird by being not weird." She let him pull her up off the curb, and she steadied herself on his arm and dropped one shoe. "Okay. So the building's locked. My keys are with the fire gods. And Chelsa's not answering, and I texted her, like, a lot, some of them coherent, and she's either asleep or she's got Marcus over and they're doing what they do, which is disgusting, they do it when I'm HOME, Miles, I've heard it, I've heard things."

"Okay."

"Okay what."

"You're staying at my place."

She stopped on the walk to the car and squinted at him.

"Your place."

"My place."

"Your place has the couch. The couch you got off the curb. The curb couch. You and that couch came from the same curb." She followed him to the car anyway, dropping into the passenger seat and immediately putting her bare feet on his dashboard before he could object. "I'll take the curb couch. I've slept on worse. I've slept on Dana's floor. Dana's floor has, like, a carpet situation."

The drive was fifteen minutes and she talked for all of it. About the party, about the guy who'd been there, about Marcus and Chelsa and the thinness of her own walls, and Miles drove and said nothing, and twice she turned and looked at his profile in the streetlights with her drunk, glittering, evaluating stare.

"You're quiet."

"I'm driving."

"You're being quiet in a specific way. I know your quiet ways. This is your thinking quiet. You've got a whole thing going on behind that face." She poked his cheek. He caught her hand and moved it back to her lap, and she left it there, and was quiet for almost a full block. Then: "Don't make it weird tonight, okay? Whatever the thing is you're ...