“Guilty.” I shoot him a little smirk.
“You guys might be crazy, but you’re damn good at it.” He waves at the computer. “The editing and the boarding.”
“You liked the videos?”
“Oh yeah.” He nods emphatically. “They’re incredible. Better than half the movie trailers out there. You’re really talented.”
“You’re the first person who’s seen them,” I tell him casually.
“I am?” He shoots me a curious look as I cue up another video.
“Yup. I still have to do some final tweaks before I post them, and I usually don’t let anyone see them until they’re in their final form.”
“Not even your friends?”
“Not even them.” I start the next video and lean back in my chair.
“Post them?” he asks belatedly. “Like on social media?”
I nod.
“I’ve never seen these kinds of videos on your Insta,” he says distractedly, his eyes glued to the video playing on my screen.“And I don’t think I’ve seen a post of you skiing or doing anything ski-related, either.”
“I don’t post them on my personal socials. We have a separate account for that.”
“Really?” He shoots me a quick look. “Is it a secret, or can I know the at?”
“I’ll DM you the link.”
“Is posting a job for you guys?” he asks. “Like, are you doing it to make money or be influencers or whatever?”
“Nah. It’s just for fun,” I say. “It gives me a place to post my work and get feedback in real time, and it satisfies the twins’ vanity kinks.”
“What about Rath?” he asks.
“He just likes to show off.”
West laughs. “Sounds like you four are a match made in heaven.”
“Most of the time,” I agree. “Sometimes I want to strangle them, but they wouldn’t be family if I didn’t feel the urge to off them every once in a while.”
“How do you guys know each other?” he asks as the video ends. “Like, what’s your origin story? I know you’ve been besties since you were babies, but how did that happen?”
“Our fathers are best friends,” I tell him. “They met here at Silvercrest when they were freshmen and became family after they graduated. We were pretty much raised together, and we consider each other brothers, even if we don’t all share DNA.”
West smiles, but just as he opens his mouth to say something, his phone buzzes loudly on the couch, and keeps buzzing as someone presumably calls him.
The softness fades from his features, and he slumps in his chair, looking small and defeated by the time his phone finally goes quiet.
“Everything okay?” I ask when his phone starts vibrating again, only seconds after stopping.
He lets out a low, drawn-out groan. “Yes, but also no.”
“I take it you know who that is?” I ask when his phone finally stops.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, like he’s warding off a headache. “It’s probably my mom.” He drops his hand, and all traces of his earlier good mood are gone. “Her and my dad are the only people who call twice like that. Or call at all.”
“You don’t want to talk to her?”
