Love Next Door (Lakeside #1) by Helena Hunting

“Where’s Bradley?”

“In the bathroom. He’s probably going to be a while.” She arches a brow.

“Why? Is he feeling okay?” Most of the time I like him, when he’s not being a pretentious ass. He’s ridiculously pampered and entitled. Teagan and I make a game out of poking fun at him because of it.

“The Starbucks drive-through line was long, so he made me go in and get him a latte. I might have forgotten to ask for lactose-free milk on purpose.”

I make a face. “Well, I guess it’s good he has his own bathroom, then.”

“Yup. Sure is.” She looks over her shoulder before she grabs her purse and rummages around in it, producing a bottle of pills. She unscrews the cap and shakes two pills into her palm. She grabs a cutting board and a spoon and crushes them into powder.

“What are you doing?”

“Bradley is three drinks in; you know how he gets when he’s sauced. He goes on these ridiculously long tirades about nothing, and you can’t get him to shut up until he passes out. I’m just speeding the process and saving us from an evening of boredom.” She dumps the pill powder into a lowball glass and adds some scotch, then passes the glass and the spoon to me. “Here. Stir that.”

“What is this stuff?” I mix up the concoction.

“It’s a sedative.”

“Is it safe?”

“Totally. He’ll sleep like a baby. I do it all the time when he goes on one of his tirades and won’t shut up.”

“Do you take these?”

“Every night.” She smiles up at me. “It’s okay, Van. I’m okay. I just needed something to help calm things down.” She taps her temple. “Sometimes our family is a lot to handle. The therapy sessions weren’t cutting it, and I wasn’t sleeping well, and now I am. And I’m coping better too.”

Bradley returns from the bathroom, rubbing his stomach. “I bet that coffee wasn’t lactose-free. Those baristas never listen.”

“Here.” Teagan passes him the drink. “I made you a manhattan. I think you’ll like it, and it’ll settle your stomach.”

“Thanks.” Bradley takes a tentative sip. He smacks his lips a couple of times before he goes in for another one. He picks out the skewer of cherries and drains his drink in one long gulp.

Teagan and I exchange a wide-eyed look before we both school our expressions.

“Do you want another?”

I’m not sure he should have another one, but I can’t communicate that to her with him looking right at us.

“Yeah. Sure. Why not?”

He sets the glass on the counter, and Teagan goes about making him another manhattan, this time not spiked with drugs. Bradley makes it three-quarters of the way through it before he spills the rest of it down the front of his shirt. I manage to grab the glass before he drops it, and then he quite literally passes out, full-on drooling.

Teagan cringes. “Hmm, we probably could have gotten away with one instead of two.”

“Ya think? How long will he be out for?”

“Roughly six to eight hours, at least. Maybe more?”

“Wow. Okay.” I scratch the back of my neck. “Should we lay him down? Maybe we should put him in Grammy Bee’s bed?”

“Do you think she’ll be mad that we drugged him? What if she haunts us because of it?”

“She’s not going to haunt us, Teag.”

“How do you know?” A branch scratches the window, and she jumps. “Did you hear that? She’s in the walls!”

“She’s not in the walls. I’ve been here for weeks; there are no ghosts, and Bee would not waste her time haunting us over knocking out Bradley.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. She’s probably chilling up in heaven with Grampy, drinking heaven wine and laughing right now.”

She nods and gives me a small smile. “I wish I’d spent more time with her. You always seemed to have such a good time when you were with her.”

“I did.” I poke my brother in the shoulder, testing his responsiveness. “Hey, Bratty Bradley, you down for the night?”

He mumbles but doesn’t otherwise move.

“Wow. That must be some powerful stuff. And you take it every night?”

“I have a lot of stress. It’s hard to live up to everyone’s expectations.”

“Maybe you should focus on your own expectations for a while.” Teagan has been stuck in the middle for a long time.

“Yeah, probably.” She sighs.

“Let’s move him to the bed so he doesn’t wake up in the morning with a crick in his neck.”

“Good call. You take the top half, I’ll take the bottom?”

After five minutes of grunting and maneuvering, we finally get him into the bed. By the time we’re done, we’re both sweaty and breathing heavily, but at least he’s out of the way.

Once we have him settled in bed, my sister and I each grab another drink and take them outside to the front porch.

“So you and Dillion, huh?”

“Yeah. I mean, for now anyway. I don’t think she has plans to stick around here once her brother is back on his feet, and I honestly have no clue what I’m going to do.”

“Would you stay here?”