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“I know. It feels good.”

“Hey, do you have plans after this?” he asked casually as he slipped his laptop into his backpack.

Phoebe cocked her head at him. Why would she have plans? She was here by herself and didn’t know anybody but him.

“Not really,” she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Why?”

“I’m meeting up with my friends tonight. Just some people I grew up with. You’re welcome to come with me unless you think it would be too awkward.”

“Sure!” Phoebe wondered if she had hit that sure a little too hard—maybe a little too perky—but she couldn’t help it. She was undeniably thrilled to be spending more time with Jonathan tonight.

He said he would text her the time and place, and they said goodbye outside by their cars. Phoebe drove back to Arden’s house, singing along to the radio.

She had a couple of hours, so she decided to veg out on the couch before getting ready. She was starting to get sick of holiday movies, but Netflix was promoting a cheerful-looking New Year’s movie.

Perfect. Phoebe turned it on, slumped back against the couch pillows, and prepared to scroll. But she had barely opened Instagram when Sam sent her a series of rapid-fire text messages.

Sam: Pheebs. I don’t know what I did wrong.

Sam: Arden and I went to the Chihuly museum

Sam: By the end of it, she was basically freezing me out. Like, one word answers, no eye contact.

Sam: Are your girl spidey senses telling you anything?

Phoebe exhaled slowly.

She had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. Ideally, Arden and Sam would have said goodbye before Arden returned to Florida, and their little fling would become a gingerbread-scented memory. Why couldn’t they have quit while they were ahead? Phoebe so did not want to get involved.

Phoebe: I haven’t talked to her much. I’ve never even met her, remember?

Sam: But has she mentioned me at all? Or can you ask her?

Phoebe cringed. She pictured the message she would write: Hey Arden, my brother’s feeling insecure, so can you please tell me if you’re into him or not?

Phoebe: I don’t think I should.

Sam: Please. I really like this girl.

Phoebe watched as his typing bubbles kept going.

Sam: I know it’s not ideal that she lives across the country, but I have never felt this way. I swear. I haven’t decided how to have this conversation with her, but a long distance thing might be worth trying. At least I know it would be worth it for me. I thought we were on the same page, but after today, I don’t know.

Phoebe groaned. Sam was her little brother but close enough in age that they’d had many of the same friends growing up. She had watched this dynamic play out so many times. Sweet, innocent Sam would lose his heart to some girl—usually one of the popular girls who was extremely kind, extremely gorgeous, and extremely out of Sam’s league. When he would work up the nerve to ask her out—or convince Phoebe to talk to her on his behalf—the girl would be amused, surprised, and pitying. Oh, Sam? He’s such a sweetheart! No further explanation required. The girl would usually go on to date someone older and/or twice Sam’s size. Usually a football player.

Poor little Sam on the mock-trial team. He had never been one for sports.

Phoebe wanted to nip this in the bud. For Sam’s sake.

Phoebe: Bro, you need to find someone worth your time. I’m sure Arden is perfectly nice. But you deserve someone who sees you and loves you for who you are. Someone who is really into you. Not another girl who leaves you wondering and questioning yourself.

Sam: But Arden and I have been having a great time. Can you at least ask her?

Phoebe hesitated. Her protective big-sister defenses were up. Arden did seem great, but from what she had let slip to Phoebe, she was involved with someone back home, and she hadn’t sounded enthusiastic about Sam.

Phoebe: I don’t need to ask her. She already told me. She thinks you’re sweet.

Phoebe waited, but no typing bubbles appeared. She set her phone down and tried to focus on the movie.