Page 62 of Sour Notes

Proooobably didn’t have to get quite as sexual, but I act out when people tell me no. It’s a whole thing.

Swayze’s silent chuckle vibrates against my back. The array of emotions that play across Nick’s face is priceless, going from anger to shock to disgust before settling on sheepish.

“Sorry, Mimi. Just thought it would’ve been nice to hear directly from my best mate that he’s fucking my baby sister instead of our mom delivering the news.”

He glares pointedly at Swayze.

“You know, bro code and all that.”

Baby? We’re twins. He’s older by five fucking minutes, not five years.

Before I can point out that little truth nugget, Swayze’s voice rumbles through me, making me shiver.

“It felt more like an in-person conversation. But I get it. I’m sorry, bro. We didn’t mean for you to find out that way. Your mom got a little… excited, I guess.” Swayze winces, looking at Nick apologetically, while running his palms up and down my arms.

Nick tracks the movement before studying Swayze silently, his jaw tense.

“I don’t like this, dude. If you hurt her, you know we’re done, right? I’ll always choose her. I don’t give a fuck if you’re a cop, I’ll kill you and toss you off this damn cliff.”

Jesus, who is this? Rambo? Where did my happy-go-lucky twin go?

Guilt prickles my skin at seeing my usually chill brother radiating so much anger toward Swayze of all people.

It’s my fault.

He’s been forced to lie to his best friend, because of me.

Once the wedding’s over, I’ll tell Nick the truth. I don’t want anything to come between their friendship, especially a straight-up lie we’ve manufactured because of the toad. He’s done enough damage already. I refuse to let him destroy their friendship too.

It’s not all a lie. You have actually fucked. Twice.

Need-to-know basis, though. That’s something he doesn’t need to know. A drunk fuck is hardly considered a relationship.

Swayze’s hands fall away from me, and he walks over to Nick, hand outstretched.

“Niko, I’d sooner have you punch me in the balls than do anything to hurt your sister. You should know that. I promise you, she’s safe with me.”

I can’t see Swayze’s face, but he sounds sincere by the deep, unwavering timbre of his words.

Yay me.

My brother grabs his hand, pulling him into a back-slapping man hug.

“You fucking better not. She’s special. I’m trusting you with my twin. Don’t let me down.”

“If we’re quite done talking about my vagina without me, I really need a shower, so could we get going before our parents arrive and all hell breaks loose?”

Swayze and I did catch one tiiiiiiiny lucky break today.

There were too many of us to fit in one cab, so we took one and our parents waited for a second. After Mom’s sex-ed talk in security, I could do with a few hours to myself to wash my ears out with soap.

You know, since drowning my sorrows in alcohol is probably not an option this early into the vacation.

Or at all.

I’ll never live that down. It’s not like I have a sex toy shortage on this damn trip. What was I thinking, throwing the stupid thing into my carry-on?

Clearly, I wasn’t.