He glanced at me over his shoulder. "Shame. I'm a motherfucker, after all."
I snort-laughed. "Yes you are. But you're our motherfucker."
"Is it fucked up to want to fuck your former stepmother?" he asked.
"Depends. Is it fucked up to want to fuck your former stepson?" Especially when he tried to kill me a couple of times. That put a big question mark around the whole relationship. Was this a relationship? Right now the words 'dysfunctional family' came to mind.
Lines around his eyes crinkled. "Definitely."
"We can all be fucked up together," Leif said cheerfully.
"See, you do need people," I said. "What would you be doing right now if you weren't here with us?”
"Sleeping," Woody said. "You're all bad for my routine."
"You don't have a routine," Leif told him.
"Of course I have a routine," Woody snapped. "Everyone has routines. Even people who spend all day looking at paint colors and furniture."
"Paint colors and furniture are life," Leif told him. "Who doesn't like a nice paint color? Or a comfortable couch?" He patted the one he was sitting on.
"Don't listen to him." He stood and stepped over to me. "His apartment is as nicely decorated as Forrest's is. As nice as yours will be when we get done with it." He gestured around us.
"Only because you insisted," Woody said darkly. "He practically forced me to change the place. He waited until I was at work."
"I didn't hear you complaining," Leif said.
"You didn't hear me because you weren't there. You had other people do your dirty work for you, because you knew it'd piss me off."
"I also haven't seen you take any of it out, or repaint the place," Leif pointed out.
For a moment, Woody didn't respond. When he did, he muttered, "I have better things to do."
Leif chuckled. "He secretly loves it. He doesn't want to admit it."
"Did you really do that?" I asked. "Make him redecorate?"
"Absolutely, I did," Leif was unapologetic. "You should have seen the place before that.
"Let me guess, it was as run down as his grandparents' house?" I asked. The one he burned down. The one he'd set fire to with me in it.
"That place was a dump," Woody said.
"Exactly," Leif agreed. "And now Woody lives somewhere nice, whether he deserves it or not."
"I deserve it," Woody said. "For putting up with you."
"What does Leif deserve for putting up with you?" I teased lightly.
"A fucking medal," Woody said.
"Hell yeah I do." Leif punch the air. "I'm still waiting for you to deliver on that. I'll also accept a trophy."
"You don't have enough participation trophies from when you were a kid?" Woody asked.
"I have plenty, but there's always room for more in the trophy cabinet.” Leif grinned.
I found myself smiling at them as they bantered back and forth. They really were like brothers. They argued, but they still cared about each other. Just like me and Savannah.