It's surreal that I've been home a week already. Also amusing that Finn thinks I don't remember the club's primary source of income. He isn't obligated to tell me s**t, but our fathers never kept secrets from our mothers, and I expect the same between him and I. Fifteen years didn't change the way our families should function together. Lying on my side of his bed, I flip through the list of cooking shows on his Hulu account.
The bathroom door opens, the light flips off, and he flops down next to me. "So, what are we watching? Rom-com, drama? What's your poison, baby?"
My eyebrows come together as I turn my head slowly to look at him like he's stupid. Lifting the remote up without taking my eyes off him, I press the play button. "We're watching Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives, asshole.
