“Sam, don’t. I’m not in the mood for—”
“Fun? Joking? Simple conversation? Jeez, bro,”—she jabbed her index finger in his chest—“I wish the old you would come back.” She snatched two muffins, one in each hand, brushed past Dylan, then placed the muffins in the bakery display.
“Sam I—”
“Look,” she interrupted before he could even muster up an apology. “I need to cut out of here early today. Liam and I have that thing at Wilde Pirate I’ve gotta prepare for.” She pushed past him again, this time avoiding eye contact.
One thing about his sister, she was an even-keeled girl. A roll-with-the-punches type who didn’t let anyone get to her. However, anybody who knew her understood that when she avoided eye contact, it wasn’t good.
Great job pissing your sister off.
Dylan’s crankiness toward her was in no way personal or intentional. Fact is, he’d been tossing cranky around like glitter. Everyone knows, once the wrath of glitter strikes, getting rid of that sparkle dust is downright impossible.
In all honesty, Dylan hadn’t been the same since he’d left Boston. Something inside of him was long gone. Broken. Stolen. Maybe simply forgotten.
“Sam,” he began, trailing behind as she stomped her way to the stockroom. He loathed the jerk he was morphing into and, if possible, he’d give himself the sucker punch he one-hundred percent deserved. “I’m sorry.” He grabbed her arm, halting her chance to slam the stockroom door in his face.
“It’s been six months, Dylan. Don’t you think you should be doing all you can to get over that b—”
“Shh”—his hand hovered over her mouth like a shield—“you know Destiny’s Brew is a cuss-free zone.”
“Bimbo, Dylan. I was gonna say bimbo, even though we both know Cynthia’s a certified ichbay.”
Samantha’s resorting to Pig Latin to describe his ex, brought out an easy laugh from the siblings, the hostility between them disappearing like a Snapchat photo.
Swaying on his feet, eyes glued to the industrial cement floor, Dylan shook his head. “You’re right. I should be over her by now—and I am, Sam. Really.” He looked up, the look of deep concern seeping from his sister’s eyes, was all consuming. “But I’m not over what she did to me. Whattheydid to me. It’s changed my outlook on just about everything. Imagine if you’d found Liam in the arms of someone else.”
He had to go there to drive his point, even though he knew darn well Liam would never do anything to hurt Samantha. The guy, his brother-in-law of three years, literally worshipped the ground she walked, skipped, jogged, or line-danced on.
“I get it, Dylan. But I miss the real you.” She playfully nudged her shoulder against his—a move they’d both done growing up. “You know, the less grumpy old man, you.”
“Hey”—he raised both brows—“I may be grumpy, but I ain’t old…yet.”
She laughed, reaching up one of the stockroom shelves to grab a bag of coffee beans. “Then can Liam and I expect you tonight at Wilde Pirate? Unwind, toss back a few beers?”
It was hard to ignore those doe-like eyes, her sweeping lashes used as bait to get what she wanted. A trick that worked on their dad, mom, Liam—and him. “Come on, Sam. You know I don’t do Karaoke.”
Karaoke wasn’t his thing. Unless he got to belt out and twerk to one of his favorites from the 90s.
“Please, Dylan? You know we’re trying to raise money for Liam’s class. He really wants to take the students to Disney World in June. We’re only six-hundred bucks shy of making dreams come true.”
Of course, when she put it forth in those irresistible terms, how could he say no? With district cutbacks, the school Liam taught at had reallocated funds for the annual six-grade graduation trip to Disney World. So, a group of teachers banded together, and organized a weekly Karaoke event at the popular pub, Wilde Pirate, to raise money for the annual trip. Twenty-five percent of the meals and drinks purchased on the teacher’s Karaoke night, went to the field-trip fund.
“Okay, I’ll go. But don’t expect me to get up on stage and sing.”
Samantha jumped up and down, a grin parting her lips as she approached Dylan. “Thank you so much, brother dear!” She stepped on tiptoes, kissed him on the cheek. “Party starts at 5 p.m. Liam posted fliers all over town about the event, hoping to be able to raise the rest of the money tonight.”
Now that Dylan thought about it, going to a Karaoke Party would keep him away from home, which would be a smart move.
Because the more time he spent away from there, the less chance he’d run into the woman who, even now, had been floating around his mind like a never-ending daydream.
