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I smile, recalling how much I loved it when Tug would come out here to visit me. “How could I forget? I believe you were usually hiding from Liv and Tori because they were annoying you.”

He laughs, both of us ignoring the elephant in the room. “Yeah, I lived through a whole hell of a lot of makeup and Barbies.”

Listening to Tug makes me feel like a bigger jerk. It figures he’d be the one to break the ice when I’m the one who messed up. “Look, Tug, I should apologize for losing my cool. You’re my brother, and I love you. I should never have allowed a girl to come between us. It was wrong.”

Tug smirks, and he steps into the shed. He stands in front of the drums, tapping lightly on the cymbal with his index fingers. “It’s not just a girl, it’s Tori.”

He’s right about that. She’s… “Yeah, I know how strongly you feel about her. I’ve decided to go back to L.A. and let her go. My life is a mess right now anyway, and if she has to end up with somebody else, it might as well be you.”

His eyes meet mine, and he slaps his hand on the cymbal. He waits for the vibration to stop before he speaks. “I don’t think you should do that. I’ve thought about it a lot. Tori should decide who she wants to be with. If it’s you, I’ll be okay with it. And if it’s me, I’d like it if you accepted it. What I don’t want is for one of us to make the choice for her by backing away.”

“When did you become so grown-up?” I ask.

“Don’t tell anyone.” Tug laughs. “Truthfully, though, you don’t have anything to worry about. That girl, for some unfathomable reason, loves your ugly, pompous ass. She’ll come around.”

I chuckle. “I take back it back. You’re still an immature little shit.”

He smiles, but then his expression changes, and he looks distressed. “Just so you know, Brady. I didn’t move in on her like you think. It started out as me dragging her out of the house because watching her mope was seriously depressing.”

That hurts. It hurts because if I hadn’t fucked up, she wouldn’t have needed Tug to be there for her. “Well, thanks, that makes me feel better.”

His chin lifts, and suddenly there’s animosity behind his eyes. “Good, you should feel guilty. You were a dick. I don’t even know what happened between you two. I’m sure it has something to do with Vanessa, though. If Tori does take you back, you can’t bail on her and run to Vanessa every time the two of you have an argument.”

I bite back the f-bomb I want to throw his way. “You’re a presumptive little shit, too. We didn’t have an argument. We had a discussion and it was about Vanessa, but I didn’t run to Vanessa.”

He scoffs. “I think she believes you did.”

“And you’d be wrong again. Tori knows I didn’t go to Vanessa’s.”

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

I pick up my sticks and grip them so hard the wood splits, almost snapping them. “I’m absolutely positive. Vanessa is dead. Tori knows.”

His expression changes from petulant to regretful. “Shit, Brady. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

I wave the sticks in front of me, shaking my head. “It’s fine. I struggle with it, and when Tori got too close, I bailed.”

“What happened?”

I tell him she’s gone, but that’s all I’m willing to say. “I?

?m not up for talking about it right now. Maybe someday, but not right now, okay?”

He nods toward the house. “That’s cool, but you should talk to Tori.”

“I’ll think about it.” I smile. “Thanks, bro.”

He starts to leave, and then stops in the doorway and turns around. “What are little brothers good for, if not sticking their nose in your business?”

Chapter 33

Tori

I pour a cup of coffee, and quickly add cream and sugar, desperately needing caffeine. Sleep eluded me most of the night. As I sip the warm liquid, smelling the hazelnut aroma, I smile for the first time in three days, the most difficult days of my life. In a home that has always offered me so much comfort, I now feel nothing but stress.

Liv is hardly speaking to me, other than to remind me I need to make a choice, and if I hurt one of her brothers she may not be able to forgive me. Neither Tug nor Brady will even look at me. All my brief interactions with Mr. and Mrs. Hunter usually involve a three-second standoff while trying to get a cup of coffee or something from the fridge.

I considered moving out. It’s probably the right thing to do. I can’t afford a place on my own, and I’ve answered a few roommate ads. Most of the people I’ve contacted scare the crap out of me. After speaking with them, I clearly understand why they don’t currently have a roommate. My only other option is to pack up and move to Minn-e-fuckin-sota. I’ve decided against that because I hate Ugg boots and anything fleece, and down feathers make me sneeze.

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