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My best friend presses a quick kiss to her cheek before lowering her back down to her feet.

“Hey, Kit.”

“Hey,” I say, reaching out for the lobby button.

“We’re actually on the third floor,” she corrects, her hand brushing mine as I pull it away.

A loud sigh escapes me before I can stop it, and as the doors close, the tension in the small space ratchets up.

“I’m so excited for Beth,” Brooks says after a long pause.

The elevator seems to just be standing in place rather than lowering us to our destination.

“I am, too.”

“That means you’re next, right?” Brooks prods, and I know he’s doing it for my benefit.

I would never have the courage to ask her if she’s dating anyone. I don’t feel like it’s any of my business. I lost the right to ask her such things when I stepped over the line so many years ago. Who knew a not-so-innocent kiss had the power to ruin a friendship?

Jules chuckles, and I watch her head shake in the reflection on the elevator door.

“Not a chance.”

“So nothing serious or no boyfriend at all?”

The question comes from Brooks, but her eyes meet mine in the mirror-like doors.

“I’m not seeing anyone.”

It’s as if she’s answering me, wanting me to know that she’s single. I shake my head slightly, clearing it of any damn thoughts of what that could mean. Jules is single more often than not, and not once has it ever increased my chances with the woman.

The doors open before Brooks gets the chance to ask another intrusive question, and I step to the side so she can exit first. She pauses beside me, her small hand on my forearm.

“It’s so good to see you, Kit.”

I’m as still as a statue as she leans in, brushing her lips on my cheek, and I’m still stunned as she walks away.

“Seriously?” Brooks snaps, his hand darting out to stop the closing doors before they can hit my shoulders. “Don’t tell me you just busted in your slacks from a kiss on the cheek.”

“Idiot,” I mutter as I walk off the elevator. “Let’s get a drink.”

I pull my eyes from Jules as she greets Beth and my parents on the other side of the room. All three of my brothers, Jason, Anders, and Gannon, are at the bar, deep in conversation as we approach.

Gannon notices me first. A wicked grin spread across his face, and I already know I’m going to catch a load of shit from him. My siblings all love to harass me about Jules, but at least they don’t do it directly in front of her anymore. They got over torturing me that way in high school when Jules told them to stop it.

A series of bro hugs and back clapping goes on, and Brooks does the same.

“Already drinking?” Brooks asks as he flags down the bartender.

“You know it,” Jason says.

“Kids driving you crazy?” I ask my oldest brother.

“Just be lucky you don’t have any,” he says, his smile fading a little.

“And what have my nephews done to drive you nuts.”

Each of my brothers has three sons each, meaning nine nephews total, ranging in age from two to sixteen. Their sons are exactly like their fathers, and that means trouble for everyone. We were absolute hellions growing up, and now they’re reaping what they sowed.

“Not nephews, plural. Jace has done enough for the three of them,” Jason mutters. “We caught him sneaking out to meet up with his girlfriend.”

My smile grows wider. “Is that all?”

Jason’s eyes narrow at me.

“What? You taught Anders how to sneak out without getting caught. Anders taught Gannon who taught me. It’s literally what teenagers are supposed to do.”

“His girlfriend also snuck out,” Jason explains. “Her parents called her in as a runaway. They were picked up by the police, making out in the park at three in the damn morning.”

Anders only smiles at the story. Gannon shakes his head, no doubt grateful his boys aren’t old enough to start doing that stuff just yet.

“Arrested at sixteen?” I look at Anders, who as the second-born child, caused our parents the most grief. “Is that a new family record?”

Anders chuckles. “I was fifteen, and I wasn’t arrested. I was simply detained until Mom and Dad got there.”

“That’s what happened with Jace. No arrest, but the kid is grounded for life.”

“And the girl?” I ask.

“If she’s running away, there may be issues in the home,” Brooks interrupts.

“She didn’t run away,” Jason says. “But I wondered the same thing. Jace assures me that she’s not in any danger from her parents. They’re just extremely overprotective. They found her bed empty and her backpack gone and called the cops. Not that it matters because they’ve marked Jace as a deviant and the girl had to break up with him.”

“Broken heart at sixteen,” Anders says, his nose scrunching up in disappointment.


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