“Jesus.” I wince as I follow his gaze. “I wish I had a cool story—a meteor shower, maybe a mysterious transient living in my ceilings. But my brother says it’s just a leaky pipe.” Parker spares me a curious glance. “Leaky pipe sounds less life-threatening.” “Not a cool story, though,” I breeze, flicking my finger at him. He presses his lips together, and I choose to believe he’s holding back a smile.
