Silas stands, wary.
Hunter pulls him into a hug too.“You hurt her, I do more than punch you.We clear?”
“Crystal,” Silas says, his voice muffled.
When they break apart, Hunter’s eyes are suspiciously bright.“So.Two punches now.One when you were fifteen, one now at thirty-two.”
Silas grins, testing his nose gently.“Guess we know what happens in our forties.”
“Only if you fuck up again,” Hunter says, but he’s smiling now too.“Try not to do that.”
“I’ll do my best,” Silas promises.
“Of course, if I hear any suspicious noises while I’m sleeping on the couch tonight, you’ll be getting a punch a lot faster.”
“You’re really staying the night?”I ask.
“Yeah, well, I drove all the way down here for skis that better be worth it.”He pulls down three plates from my cabinets.“Plus, I’m not driving back in that traffic.And”—he looks at both of us—“we still have a lot to talk about.”
“Deal,” I say.
We move around each other, making our own plates.My mind is a flurry of thoughts about moving back to Here, but the biggest one, the one that scares me the most, is my parents.
And maybe I don’t need to tackle that alone.
I have Silas.And I also have my protective brother.
When we sit down, I look at Hunter.“We need to talk about Mom and Dad.”
“Yeah, we do.”He leans forward.“They’re going to be thrilled you’re back.But they’re also going to be all up in your business.Mom especially.”
“I know.And I need to set boundaries.”
Silas’s hand finds my knee under the table, squeezing gently, and Hunter’s eyebrows raise.
“I’ve been working on it.With my therapist.”
“Good.”Hunter’s voice is firm.“Because I’ve watched them make you miserable for years.”
“I’m going to talk to them about it.I just want to make sure?—”
“That I back you up?Hell fucking yes.If you don’t want to see them, they’re not your family.You’ll always have me, and we can tell them to fuck right off.Together.”
Something warm spreads through my chest.“You’d do that?”
“Bailey.”He looks at me like I’m being deliberately dense.“You’re my sister.Of course I would.”
We smile at each other for a few seconds, until Silas breaks the silence.
“Also,” Silas adds, “you have to come to Sunday Fun Days.”
I blink.“The mimosa and waffle game thing?”
“It’s not just a game thing,” Silas says, and there’s that enthusiasm again, that light in his eyes when he talks about Here.“It’s our tradition.All of us.And if you’re moving back, you’re part of it.”
“You have a lot of requirements for me moving there,” I say, but I’m smiling.Because the truth is, the idea of Sunday Fun Days with mimosas and stupid games and people who actually want me around sounds...good.Really good.
“One more requirement,” Hunter says.“You have to come to my place for dinner at least once a week.There will be no holing up in Silas’s place, barely leaving the house?—”
