Fighting the Fall ✔

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen 

Dustin King

Josh crossed his arms, nodding in approval of my latest purchase, a black Chevrolet Silverado. "She's a beauty. Good choice, my friend."

I nodded in agreement, trying to hide the fact that, truthfully, I wasn't very sure if it was a wise idea. McKenna would be happy to know buses and Ubers were no longer necessary, but she could keep a secret if it truly mattered. An impassioned Bishop, on the other hand, often struggled to hold his tongue. I'd have to make sure he understood that it was something Dad could not find out about.

"Now I won't have to drive Your Majesty's butt all over creation," Josh added jokingly. "The passenger seat of my car is not your throne anymore."

I couldn't fight a small smile. "Hey now, you rarely drive me anywhere. Also, that's not very fair. If I didn't get to choose my last name, you don't get to tease me about it."

Josh raised an eyebrow. "Hey now," he mimicked, "that seat is reserved for other butts, not yours." He gave me a stern look as he pointed at me firmly. "Is your name Janet, Katie, or Lisa? Another female name, perhaps?" He shook his head, answering his own question. "I don't think so. Last I knew, you and I both had a joystick. That's not really my cup of tea, but, hey, I'm not judging you for where you get your joy from." I rolled my eyes, trying to remember why we were friends. "Also," he copied again, "is that an order, My King? Am I being ordered to quit teasing?"

"Yeah, you are," I answered, my voice firm and authoritative. I crossed my arms while Josh unfolded his. We stared each other down -- me, glaring, and him with a look of defiance -- until he broke. I smiled victoriously.

"As you wish, Your Majesty." He smirked before bowing as low as he could without falling. "Now, would it please you, My King, to enter the home of a humble peasant and be served as many cookies and glasses of milk as Your Majesty's heart desires?"

And he called me a drama king.

"Shut up." I shook my head, no longer amused. My last name was a permanent reminder of who I'd inherited it from. Like a scar. But Josh didn't understand... He couldn't have, so I let it go and tried to lighten the mood. "That's an order."

He laughed quietly and began heading up the sidewalk that led to his house. I made sure my truck was locked before following him inside.

"We're home, Ma!" Josh shouted up the stairs. There was no response, but the scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies became the priority.

He rubbed his hands together before using both to pick up two cookies, one in each, from the cooling rack on the stove. He took a bite of the one in his right, stuffing his mouth with a third of it, and leaned back against the island in the center of the small kitchen. "So, where do you plan to drive it to first? Firsts are a big deal." He took another bite as he waited for my answer.

"To Lydia's, to pick her up on Friday." I reached for a cookie with the most chocolate chips.

"Ah, yes, the date." Josh pushed himself up onto the island, leaving chocolate fingerprints on the edge of the countertop. "Change of plans. You're taking me to the store in a few minutes. I need to be sure your truck is good date material."

I paused, the untasted cookie hovering inches from my mouth as I communicated my confusion through the look I was giving him.

"I need to check out the back seats, make sure they're nice and cozy," he clarified. "Wouldn't want any back aches the day after."

I chose to ignore him and returned to the dessert. I could already taste the sweet, gooey chocolate on my tongue before it even made it there. Before it could, the cookie was snatched from my hand. "Hey!"