Page 78 of Anything But Lonely

Crew immediately shakes his head. “Yes, it is.”

I glance down at him. “Whose side are you on?”

Mateo chuckles, the sound warm and effortless, and I hate how quickly it makes me forget I was just trying to defend myself.

“So, buddy, what else did she tell you about my songs?”

Crew thinks hard, his little nose scrunching. “She said your voice is her favorite because it helps her fall asleep.”

The smile disappears from my face for half a second—not because I’m embarrassed anymore, but because the words are so much more honest than I ever intended to be.

Mateo notices.

Of course he does.

His teasing expression softens just slightly before he looks back down at Crew.

“Well,” Mateo says just as the crowd makes it to the Survive Alive House. “I think your nanny might have pretty good taste.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop the smile that slips through.

Thankfully, Anderson and Jack turn to face the kids who have created a circle around them and start to explain how the Survive Alive House works—how the kids can go through in small groups, each led by one of the firefighters.

I kneel down next to Crew. “Can you see?’ I whisper.

Crew shakes his head, so I stand up to find Jack’s gaze, pointing down at Crew so he knows to keep an eye on him for me.

I lean back down to Crew. “Okay, champ,” I point towards Jack, “that’s my brother, and he told me he needs a really good helper today. Do you think you’re up for it?”

Crew eagerly nods, like I just asked him if he wanted to go to Disney World.

“Do you want to go be his helper?” I ask.

Without another word, Crew slips his hands from mine and Mateo’s before squeezing through the crowd until he finds Jack.

Anderson is helping the kids gather into groups as Jack gets down to Crew’s level and holds out his hand. Crew smiles as he shakes Jack’s hand, and it’s honestly the cutest shit I’ve ever seen.

My grumpy big brother’s soft smile as Crew proudly stands next to him is a picture I commit to memory.

And selfishly, I had to get rid of the kid before he told Mateo anything else I’ve told him over these last two months.

I turn to Mateo, his brown hair blowing in the wind, the tips of his cheeks tinged red from the cold air. He’s wearing a vintage denim jacket and black baggy jeans, his facial hair fuller than it was the last time I saw him.

Maybe I didn’t think sending Crew Jack’s way completely through.

The kid is usually a pretty good buffer for Mateo and me, and I think the two of us need a damn good buffer after how we left things between us.

The crowd around us disperses as the small groups of kids begin to go through the house with one of the firefighters. Some of the parents and guardians watch as their kids stick their heads out the windows and wave, while others remind their children to be patient as they wait for their turn.

There’s a sense of chaos happening all around us, but somehow it all feels muted. Like the rest of the world has faded into the background, leaving me focused only on Mateo—the nervous shift of his weight between his feet, the way his eyes move from me to the snow and

back again, the way he shoves his hands into his pockets only to pull them out seconds later.

Part of me wants to break the silence between us.

The other part of me has no idea what to say.

“I’m sorry about the other night.” Mateo’s voice is low, his eyes on the ground before he tentatively lifts his gaze to mine. “I shouldn’t have flipped out on you like that.”