My father is of Portuguese descent, so my brothers look just as our surname suggests: olive skin, darker eyes, and dark hair. We make quite the scene when moving around as a group, and just like Spencer and Jess mistakenly guessed today, people often question us when we say we’re of the same family. Mom and I are just so… different from the guys.
“Abigail?” Nix leans forward and snaps his fingers in my face. “What are you thinking about?”
“Troy.” I give a nostalgic smile and continue eating when my stomach grumbles. “He’s always gone now. I miss him.”
“He’s working.”
“Yeah, I know. But that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to miss him. He used to take me out to dinner all the time.”
“What do you call this?” Nix throws his hands up with faux anger. “I invite you over for dinner, but you sit there and think about a different brother. This is how some men must feel when their date isn’t over her ex.”
“You’re so dramatic,” I laugh. “I’m just saying, I’m glad he’s coming home soon. Where’re the rest of the guys?”
He lazily sips his beer and shrugs. “Mitch should be back soon. Beckett is out with some chick, I think.” He shakes his head when my eyes light up. “Not a forever chick, Ab. Don’t start writing their vows yet.”
“Not a forever chick? Why the heck not?”
“Because some men enjoy the ‘right now’ kinda gals.” He flashes a wolfish grin and tempts me to smack him. “Not everyone wants to marry when they’re eight years old. Some people like to just hang out and have fun. Ya know, sex and shenanigans, without the wedding bells.”
“You tease me for wanting forever, but then you tell me not to hang out with anyone except my own brothers. You have to make up your mind, Nix. Lock me up or let me out, but quit with the double standards.”
He chuckles. “You’re not a ‘right now’ kinda girl, Ab. Other girls are, the girls in the clubs and stuff… they’re a whole buncha fun. But you…” He studies my face with kind eyes. “You’re special. And if any man only asks for a night, I’ll rip his nuts out and feed them back to him for dessert.”
I purse my lips and set down my taco. The hypocrisy is astounding in this family. “I’m a forever girl, but every other female in the world is allowed to be a ‘right now’ girl. I’m not allowed to talk to anyone of the male variety, lest my brothers decide to start peeing everywhere. But if Idoconsider dating, he must produce an engagement ring on the first date, or his life is in danger. Am I hearing this right?”
“Ten-four, little chief.” He reaches out and chucks my chin. “You see, there are different rules for different Rosas.” He lifts his hands and laughs when I ball mine into fists. “I didn’t make the rules, Ab. I just live by them.”
Nix’s front door opens and saves him from being beaten to death. Or at the very least, saves him from a solid punch on the arm that would do absolutely nothing to teach him a lesson. Keys land in a ceramic bowl at the front door – a bowl I made when I was eleven years old – then boots hit the timber floor as our visitor kicks them off with a relieved grunt.
“You guys here?”
“At the table,” Nix calls out.
The front door is behind Nixon, but he doesn’t turn as Mitch walks through the house in socks, jeans, and a t-shirt he probably should replace soon. It’s old and ratty, missing three or four of the buttons, and the breast pocket has been torn so it hangs limp. There was no struggle or attack on my brother’s life. He just chooses to hold onto things a decade too long rather than leave the house for anything except work.
Mitchell Rosa is a certified workaholic, and because of this ugly tendency to never sleep, he’s also a grump most of the time. Despite what happened at my store today between Nix and Spence, Nix is actually the kindest, friendliest of my brothers; possibly because he’s the baby of the bunch and has the ability to horse around without responsibility. But for every step up the Rosa ladder you go, the grumpiness jumps exponentially.
Mitch is bad, Beck is worse, but nobody is as gruff or moody as Troy.
He’s such a pleasure to be around… not.
“Aw, Abby Cadabby is here.” Mitch’s surly mood lifts when he catches sight of me from across the room. What was a lazy amble turns to a trot as he rounds the table and hugs me from behind. My brother, who looks just like the rest of them, but with progressively darker green eyes, presses a noisy kiss to the top of my head, then pulls my head back so I look up at him upside down and smile. “You look beautiful, Ab.”
“Aww. Thank you.”
“Better yet, you look happy.”
“I’m always happy when I get to hang with you guys.” I bring my head forward before I knot the muscles in my neck, but I take Mitch’s hand and pull him down to sit beside me. He smells like home, is rugged, handsome, and hugger extraordinaire. “I’m glad you came over.”
“Start eating long ago?”
“Nope.” I take a spare taco shell from the plate in the middle of the table and begin piling it full of ingredients. I add the extra hot sauce on top, since my brothers are weird and enjoy burning the lining of their stomachs for fun, then I set it beside mine on my plate. “You’ve been served.”
“Mmm. Thank you.” Mitch reaches forward and takes his food, only to consume half of it in one massive bite. “Jesus, I’m starving. I didn’t take a break all day.”
“Why not?” I begin picking at my dinner, and Nix does the same as Mitch and shovels his in. “It’s part of your employment contract, right? They can’t not give you a break.”
Mitch chews like a cow and shrugs. “Sometimes shit just happens, Ab. Sometimes people hurt themselves, so I don’t get a break. Sometimes people hurt other people, so I don’t get a break. And sometimes people get sick, so–”