Chase steps inside, his eyes instantly finding mine.
Shit.
Considering they found me lounging with a pile of blankets and a half-eaten box of pin wheels, tossing out a random excuse was a no-go, which is why I’m now sandwiched between Mason and Brady, who just dropped onto my living room couch, pretending I planned to be here all along.
Mason wraps his arm around my shoulder and tugs me to him with a playful growl. “Miss you, sister. Feel like I see less and less of you. It bites.”
A sharp pain knocks against my rib cage and I look to my brother, guilt heavy in my mind, but a smile on my lips. “Me too, brother.” I hug him, shoving him away when he bites at my scalp.
“What the hell?” I laugh, and he smirks, snagging the remote from my lap and switching over to ESPN. Of course.
“How’s that study group going?” Brady calls, and I look his way. His gaze is narrowed, aware I’m a big fat liar, so I do the one thing he’s asking for.
I nod in admission.
Brady nods back, yanks me to him and kisses my hair, stealing the other half of my blanket as he straightens.
Chase files over next, and I lift my hand to wave, but he does what I don’t expect, leaning over for a hug. So I hug him back as I have a hundred times before, only it feels the furthest thing from normal.
It aches.
I don’t know if it’s his way of keeping up appearances, but the way his grip tightens on me, and how his palms widen across my back, makes it feels like a plea, but I couldn’t tell you for what if I tried.
When he pulls back, I quickly turn to glance over my shoulder at Cameron as an excuse to hide the unease in my eyes before he has a chance to look into them.
“You need help?” I offer, ready to jump from my seat.
Everyone laughs, and I frown.
“Ha freaking ha, I am not useless.” I shove Mason, and he only laughs more.
“No, honey cakes, you’re not,” Cameron placates me teasingly. “But I cooked the last two weeks, so it’s officially their turn.”
And cue more guilt.
From there, thank god, the boys get straight to work, cutting produce they brought and frying burgers, and Brady delivers on his mom’s famous homemade garlic fries. Cam and I pull some plates and drinks out as they’re finishing up.
We settle around the small kitchen, and I finally get to hear some of the stories the boys have from their first couple months here, laughing at Brady’s horrible luck in picking up bat-shit crazy women. We play a few games of our favorite dice game, Tizy, next, and then settle into the living room with root beer floats.
A soft sigh leaves me as I peek around the room, realizing how much I miss this, how much I miss them.
I gasp when something cold hits my thigh and Brady’s eyes widen.
“Shit!” He looks to his tipped over drink, still spilling into my lap.
I wave my hands up and down and the others laugh. “It’s so cold!”
They scurry around for napkins, but it’s Chase that lifts one, and as he passes it over, he does a double take.
My muscles lock as his frown slowly builds.
Cameron swoops in, tossing a towel at me, and I jump, making quick work of wiping it with one hand and yanking the still extended napkin from Chase’s hand… all to have it torn away by Cameron.
She zeros in on Noah’s name and number, her head snapping my way.
Please don’t.
“Yes.” She drags out the word with a hiss, being over dramatic as she eases it to the floor beside her. “Let’s not lose this.”
It takes all I’ve got not to glance at Chase, but when I finally do, I’m relieved to find his eyes pointed at the TV, and then I get annoyed with myself for assuming he might care.
Not five minutes after that, I’m painstakingly reminded why I’ve skipped Sunday dinners and everything else for that matter as Mason starts talking to Chase about the girls from their party last night… and their walk of shame this morning.
My stomach turns, and for the first time today, last night’s alcohol threatens to show itself. Heat builds in my chest, spreading up my neck, and I’m about to start sweating.
I want to cover my ears. I want to get up and run out before anything else is said, but I can’t. The others will look at me like I’m mad, and then they’ll get mad and demand a reason for my freak out, but I can’t sit here. I don’t want to sit here.
I—
My phone beeps then, and I hastily pick it up, finding a text from Noah.
* * *
Romeo: I’ve been thinking and there’s something I should tell you.