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“What’s going on over here?”
Loud. Boisterous. Drunk.
Leo.
“What do you want?” I groan, detangling myself from Sterling and turning to face my incompetent older brother.
“Just checking up on you.” Each word comes out slurred, forced. “But you’re busy with your boyfriend, so, guess I’ll see you later.”
I look between the two as Leo drags himself away and shake my head at Sterling.
“Sorry. I—I think I should help him get home. He’s kind of reckless when he gets like this.”
“I understand. I’m the older brother, remember? Used to taking care of people in this state. Usually Val, sometimes Farrah… you get the picture.”
I snort. “As you can tell by my older brother, that doesn’t mean much.”
We’re hesitating—I definitely am. There’s more to say or do, or some kind of confusion in his features, but I don’t know how to address it. We kissed. We wanted to kiss again. We almost did. What does it mean?
Gods. I’m not looking for a relationship, and in this small town, the last thing I need is to get wrapped up in something romantic. I barely know him. I don’t trust him.
There’s no way I can pick this man over my brother.
“I’ll text you,” I say, backing away.
“Are you sure you don’t need help getting him home?”
“You can’t leave the event.” I shake my head and turn away. “Seriously. We’ll be fine. Luke will help, and… just forget about it, okay?”
“Um. Okay.”
That’s how I’ve always been, for so long.
Fine.
Alone.
Luke doesn’t help. Neither does my mom. It’s not because they won’t help—I don’t tell them. Why ruin the festivities for everyone else? My night already went down the gutter, and taking care of a drunken Leo is the shit icing on the shit cake.
“You’re a mess.” I grunt as I hold onto Leo’s arm, helping him into the house.
“I know.” He lets out a long, sad sigh. “I’m so sorry, Rory.”
I can’t remember the last time he’s called me that. It’s almost enough to make me smile, but really, it’s a sign of how drunk he is.
The kitchen cupboards open and close of their own accord, a cacophony of the cottage’s making, but I don’t pay her any mind. Not tonight.
“Yeah, well, I’m not bringing you up two sets of stairs, so…” I push him onto the couch. “You’re sleeping here, buddy. Let me get you a blanket. A pillow.”
“Wait.” Leo sits up and looks at me with heavy, pathetic eyes. “I don’t want to be alone.”
The house stops making a racket, as if she’s listening to Leo’s confession.
I am too.
Those five words hit me like a punch to the gut.
Leo has spent years pushing all of us away, even when he agreed to move to Starbrook. Especially then. I never stopped to wonder why. I never considered that he could be feeling the same thing I feel—the urge to push and the desire to pull at the same time.
