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Hannah looks to me for help. I shrug and sip my coffee innocently. “He is hot.”
“Ugh,” she groans. “You all suck.”
“Didn’t he model for Abercrombie once?” Chloe asks, leaning toward Hannah like she wants to soak up every word.
Hannah frowns. “Once, when he was eighteen.”
“You don’t model for Abercrombie if you’re not ungodly hot. It’s a fact,” Chloe argues.
Hannah sighs. “You guys should start calling me, That-Girl-Hannah-With-The-Hot-Brother.”
Casey snorts. “It has a nice ring to it.”
“Rolls right off the tongue.” I laugh.
“You guys are taking me right back to my high school days.” Hannah sighs, staring down into her mug of chai tea.
“Oh, stop it.” Casey takes a bite of her blueberry muffin. “You’re the one that brought it up.”
Hannah blanches. “Nope, I’m pretty sure you guys brought up his supposed hotness all on your own.”
“It’s not supposed, honey—” Casey pats Hannah’s hand “—it’s the truth.”
Hannah rolls her eyes and tucks a piece of strawberry-blond hair behind her ear. “How was your Thanksgiving?” she asks me.
“Good,” I say with a smile. “It was nice seeing Ben’s family.”
“That’s all we get?” Casey raises a brow.
I laugh. “There’s not much to tell. My Thanksgiving was more low-key than Hannah’s. Less banging around,” I joke.
Hannah sighs. “You’re as bad as them.”
“Well, my Thanksgiving was a nightmare.” Chloe leans forward and lowers her voice like she’s letting us in on a secret. “My mom burnt the turkey, I dropped the pie on the floor, and my sister caught her hair on fire.”
“What?” I gasp. “How’d she catch her hair on fire?”
“Candle.” Chloe shakes her head forlornly. “I don’t think she’ll ever go near a candle again. The poor girl is traumatized.”
“I would be too,” Casey says.
“How was your Thanksgiving?” I ask Casey.
Her lips thin into a straight line. “Fine.”
We all stare at her. “Fine?” I question. “That doesn’t sound good.”
Casey sighs. “James,” she begins, referring to her boyfriend, “spent the whole day on his phone answering emails, which means I was left to endure his insufferable mother all on my own. The woman is insane.” She adds when we laugh, “I’m not kidding.”
“That’s what you get for dating another lawyer,” I tell her. “There’s only room for one in a household. I think there’s some sort of rule for that or something.”
She frowns and brushes crumbs off the table. “You might be on to something.”
“I take it this means there’s trouble in paradise?” Chloe prompts before taking a bite of her sandwich—I’m currently devouring mine like someone is about to come along and snatch it from my hands.
Casey nods. “I don’t think he’s the one. He’s not my Ben.”
I choke on my sandwich, practically coughing up a lung. “What does that mean?”
