Opposites Ignite by Sadira Stone (crime books to read .txt) 📗

go to Bangers back before you were born. Arnie, the former owner, was a real character.”

Why hadn’t Mom shared this before? “You should come sometime, Mom. Diego makes the best daily specials. Last night it was tater tots topped with sour cream, smoked salmon, and chives. Sooo good.”

Mom patted her hip. “No thanks. I’m big enough as it is.”

And I’m bigger. Rosie sighed and braced herself. Would Amara let Mom’s comment pass? Little sis inherited her bird bones from their dad’s family, whereas Rosie got her wide hips and big boobs from Mom’s.

Sure enough, Amara shot Rosie a squinty glance as she smeared butter on her toast. “Honestly, Rosie, if you’d just pay more attention to your diet—”

Mom rapped the table with her knuckles. “Enough. Don’t spoil our morning with your squabbling.”

Amara huffed and pushed away her plate. “Hey, Rosie, are you done with those earrings you borrowed? I need them for a work party next weekend.”

Rosie’s throat constricted, nearly sending a mouthful of coffee in the wrong direction. Hadn’t she worn Amara’s sparkly earrings last night? The details were still blurred by her hangover fog. “Um, I might’ve left them at my friend’s house.”

Amara’s eyebrows shot up.

Mom deployed her full-on teacher voice, honey covering sharp steel. “I’m sure Rosie will return them in time, won’t you dear?”

“Of course,” she muttered, eyes on her plate.

Glancing anxiously between the three women, David cleared his throat. “So, ah, what’s new, Rosie? You still taking art classes at TCC?”

“Nope.” She’d already aced every art class Tacoma Community College offered. She was damn proud of that, but when faced with the math classes required to finish her associate’s degree, she’d dropped out. Why torture herself? She didn’t need a degree to become a tattoo artist, just an apprenticeship—and those were hard to come by, especially in a tattoo-addicted town like Tacoma. Building her portfolio and introducing herself at studio after studio took all her daytime hours, and serving at Bangers filled her nights. She was working her ass off—but try telling that to her grad-student sister and her privileged boyfriend.

“I’m working on my portfolio,” Rosie grumbled.

“Is that what you call your skin?” Amara asked, lip curled.

“Enough!” When Mom barked commands in her teacher voice, both sisters knew well enough to back off.

After a long silence, David cleared his throat. “So, we had fun last night.” When no one spoke, he added, “My friend’s parents hosted a party at their house on Capitol Hill. Great view of the city. We watched the fireworks.”

Must be nice to be rolling in dough while we peasants toil in obscurity.

Rosie sucked in a breath and blew it out. David wasn’t a snob, just clueless. After all, he happily trailed after Amara whenever she visited her humble Tacoma home. Turning down the Chu’s offer to relocate the family to Bellevue after Dad died was a huge bone of contention in their extended family. Like her eldest daughter, Mom preferred to make her own way.

Amara poked at her congealed eggs. “U Dub has a good art program. Yeh Yeh and Maa Maa would pay your tuition, you know.”

“I know. Not interested.” Her paternal grandparents didn’t approve of her career path either, but at least they didn’t pester her about it the way Amara did. Besides, lack of tuition money wasn’t the point.

Amara opened her mouth, then caught Mom’s warning glare and snapped it shut.

Rosie nibbled her toast. “I actually got some cool ideas at my friend’s house this morning. His grandma made this beautiful Russian quilt with a phoenix design, like—” Ahh, shit. Just admitted I was in some guy’s bedroom.

Mom shot her a sharp look but refrained from quizzing her. “The phoenix is a popular image in many cultures. Greek, Chinese, Russian…”

“You’ve got a Russian boyfriend now?” Amara elbowed David and grinned.

“I have an American friend whose family came from Russia—I dunno—a long time ago. Even his grandparents don’t speak with an accent.” But they sure cook with one.

Mom’s eyebrows rose. “You’ve met his family already? Interesting.”

Rosie winced. “Eddie is a friend from work. That’s all. He invited me over for breakfast.” Not the whole truth, but close enough.

“You partied all night, then?” Amara smirked.

Rosie shot her a dead-eyed stare. “That’s what people do on New Year’s Eve.” Young people who don’t have a stick up their ass, anyway. So what if a significant portion of said partying played out under Eddie’s phoenix quilt?

She pushed her chair back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need a shower and a nap.” She kissed the top of Mom’s head. “Thanks for brunch, Ma. Leave the dishes. I’ll wash up later. Nice to see you, David.”

She scraped her barely touched food into the trash can, then climbed the stairs to her room, grumbling with every step. Ever since Amara got accepted into the University of Washington’s Asian Studies graduate program, Rosie had endured her nagging about the importance of higher education—especially when Mom was there to witness said nagging. For God’s sake, didn’t the family’s shining academic star get enough praise without rubbing Rosie’s face in her success?

With cement-shod feet, she trudged into her room, stripped off her clothes, and wrapped up in her satin robe. A steaming shower eased some of the tension from her shoulders, but also refreshed her memory of last night’s steamy moments in Eddie’s arms—soft lips skimming over her collarbone while he kneaded her breasts and teased her nipples to tingling peaks. Whispers and moans and rumbling laughter. Lean hips rolling against hers, that lovely thick cock nudging between her thighs.

Such a sweet guy, and a fiercely good lover, unhurried and thorough. Under other circumstances, they could maybe share something real.

“Don’t kid yourself,” she grumbled. “Guys like him don’t want girls like me for anything more than a fuck buddy.” Someday she’d find someone who fit—someone just as messy and impulsive as her. Not some neat-freak, tradition-minded, family guy like Eddie.

She dumped shampoo on her head and dug in with her fingertips, trying to scrub away the ache.