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“I’ll never stop, damn it,” he says with finality.

“You shouldn’t, she’s my best friend, and I’ll be the first to admit she’s a pain in my butt, but she’s the greatest person to love.”

“I know, and I can’t picture a time in my life where I will ever stop fighting to truly have her as mine.” His sweet words resonate.

“About that, I get what you mean when you tell me she’s yours and you want her to be yours. But maybe ease up on that, she’s still recovering. Let her decide that, okay?”

His fingers play with the rim of his glasses while he thinks about it. He looks ever like the big brother I know, the real Kingston many don’t see, glasses and all. Lana would be so lucky to have him, if only she could let go of the past and strike a new future, let the burning flame between the two simmer and start a never-ending fire.

“True. God, you are the smart one of us two, you cute little shit.”

“Good. Now, why don’t we lie on that big bed and binge watch Full House. The hotel has Netflix!” I say excitedly. Remembering the times I would wait for him after school when we were kids, binge eating junk food, and watching Full House was a daily routine. Most of my fondest memories of my brother happened when we did things like that together.

“You’re the coolest little sister. I thought sisters were supposed to be fucking annoying and high-strung all the fucking time. What happened to you? Why are you so cool?”

Moving to the bed, I begin jumping on it while he turns the TV on. “Because I was raised by the coolest big brother out there. You might know him.” He winks at me, and I cease jumping then crawl under the blankets.

Kings grabs the menu and starts looking through it. I study him for a few minutes, noticing how handsome he is. Girls line up to get his attention, but he doesn’t see any of them. No one but Lana. His green eyes match mine perfectly. They have a bold contrast against his dark locks, which he combs back, showing more of his rugged facial structure. Strong jawline, long sharp nose, which is proportionate to his other features. Not only that, my brother is big, and I mean big. He stands six feet tall and is solid muscle from his biceps to his calves. He never skips the gym; he is religious with it. The tattoos give off this masculine, take no crap, macho complex. You know, the “bad boy” type. Which he’s far from. He’s cocky, but he’s no bad boy.

“What are you looking at?”

“You’re a handsome dude,” I say dude in my best Michelle Tanner voice.

“Thanks, sis,” he says, flexing the muscle on his bicep before leaning in to kiss it.

“Okay, a ton of people are handsome, so calm down.” He laughs, enjoying my sarcasm.

“Oh really, like who?”

“You’re no Trey, but at least you try!”

“That’s it!” He throws the menu down and jumps on the bed. Grabbing a pillow, he covers my head playfully, as I struggle to retaliate with my hands. I’m blinded by the shield over my eyes, but I finally get a solid punch to his arm, giving me the upper hand. I continue to take advantage and climb on his back, trying to tackle him flat to the bed. It’s no good; remember how I said he was big? Well, I’m no match. It’s like trying to rob a bank when your getaway car has a flat tire. I will lose for sure.

He stands from the bed, and within the blink of an eye, I’m flipped over his shoulder and thrown flat on my back. He has my wrist in one hand and his other one is tickling my sides. God, I feel like we’re kids again. I love my dang brother.

“Mercy!” I shout through a fit of laughter.

“What was that?” I know he heard me.

I attempt to hold my breath and push my stomach out, thinking this will help with the tickling. Suffice it to say, it doesn’t. I let the air drain from my full lungs and shout mercy again, trying to regain a steady stream of breathing.

“That’s what I thought. Big brother one, little sis zero!”

He starts pacing the room, hunched low with his hand cupping his mouth. “The crowd goes wild for the winner of this round. Kiiiiiiiiingston Donovaaaaan! Ladies, he’s a shark in the bedroom and a gentleman at dinner. Come and get him!”

Sitting up only enough to throw a pillow at him, I let myself fall back on the bed, laughing like a dang hyena. I’m thankful that we were able to turn this night around and end it on a playful note. We don’t get these moments together very often, but when we do, it’s the greatest thing that I will forever hold dear to my heart.

We’re two episodes in and have consumed enough sugar to kill a horse, when I hear my cell phone ringing on the table from across the room. I slowly drag my feet, mumbling complaints about having to get up when my stomach is about to explode.

“Ugh. It’s been weeks and she decides now, of all times, to call me.” I hold up my phone and roll my eyes. “It’s Mom.”

Kingston smirks. “It wasn’t me this time, score!”

I flip him the bird and answer the phone. I put on my best fake voice, lacing it with high-pitched niceties and overly cheerful enthusiasm. “Mom. Hey!”

“When were you going to tell me you were dating that…thug you and your brother ran around with?” I feel my fist clench at the mention of Trey. How dare she call him a thug, she barely knew him. I want to punch the empty air in front of me.

“He’s not a thug, Mom. And I was gonna tell you soon…ish.”

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