“You don’t look like the picture of health yourself, ass,” Freddie shoots back without taking his eyes off the screen. I snort, because he’s not wrong. I probably look as wrecked as I feel.
“What’s that all over your hands?” Ethan asks. They’ve actually paused their game, both pairs of bleary eyes now focused on me with surprising intensity.
I glance down at my charcoal-stained fingers, and try to hide them behind me. “Oh, uh, pencils.”
They exchange a look I can’t quite read. Then, in perfect unison, “Cool.”
Just like that, they’re back to their game, shouting about spawn points and kill streaks. But I catch Freddie’s small smile, the way Ethan’s shoulders relax.
As if summoned by the noise, Troy appears in thedoorway, fresh from the gym. He takes in the scene - his roommates in various states of dishevelment, me with charcoal-stained hands hovering over his meal prep.
“Good session?” I ask, leaning against the door frame.
“Trying to decide if I should punch you.” He doesn’t break eye contact. “You’re my best friend, but she’s my sister.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” He finally stops, sitting back on his heels to look at me. “Because from where I’m standing, you both lied to me for weeks. And then had some weird fake dating fling and now apparently, don’t like each other at all?”
“It wasn’t...” I run a hand through my hair, frustrated. “It started as something simple. Just helping each other out. Well, she was helping me out.”
“And now?”
I meet his eyes, owing him this honesty at least. “Now it’s not simple at all.”
He studies me for a long moment, and I see the war playing out on his face - best friend versus protective brother, trust versus fear.
“You remember freshman year?” he asks suddenly. “When my dad showed up on campus out of nowhere?”
I nod. I remember finding Troy at the gym at 3 AM, destroying a punching bag.
“You didn’t ask questions. Just spotted me while I benched way too much weight and then bought me terrible coffee.” His lips quirk. “That’s when I knew we’d be friends. Real friends.”
“The coffee was really bad.” I agree.
“My point is...” He stands, and I brace myself for eithera punch or a lecture. “You’ve always had my back. Even when I’m being an ass. Even when I probably don’t deserve it.”
“Troy—”
“Let me finish.” He fixes me with that intense stare that probably terrifies people. Heck, terrifies me a little right now. “I need to know if you’ve got her back the same way. Not because she needs protecting - God knows she’s stronger than both of us - but because she deserves someone who sees that strength. Who isn’t going to try to dim her light.”
The weight of his words, of his trust, settles heavy on my shoulders. “I see her,” I say quietly. “All of her. And I’m trying to be worthy of that.”
He nods once, decision made. “Good.” Then his expression turns dangerous. “But if you ever hurt her?—”
“You’ll kill me?”
“Nah.” His grin is sharp. “I’ll tell her about the time you cried watching Finding Nemo.”
“I was drunk!”
“Still counts.” He heads inside, pausing at the door. “And then I’ll kill you after. Whatever happened between you guys, fix it.”
“I really messed up, Troy.”
“Maybe. But that’s between you and her.” He looks at me directly. “I’m done playing overprotective brother. She’ll figure out what she wants. Who she wants. It’s her choice, not mine. I’ll be there when she needs me. But I’ll get out of the way.”
Something tight in my chest loosens. “Thank you.”
