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“You’re so grown up,” I mused at him with pride.

“Nina, I’m twenty-seven years old. I hit that mark a long time ago.” Rolling his eyes, he held out his cup to the waitress who filled it then sat back, looking at our limited view of Queen Street. “Okay, so spill it. Setting down his cup, he folded his arms on the table.

“Nothing you need to know, honestly. A little man trouble, but nothing I can’t handle.”

I was such a fucking liar. Still, this was my brother, and my shit had no place in his head.

“Man trouble,” he snickered. “Well, I can’t imagine why, Nina. You pick the absolute worst men to fall for.”

“Not true,” I defended as our plates were set in front of us.

“Your first boyfriend was a total ass clown. What was his name? Trevor?”

“Terry. He was nice, and if I remember correctly, he gave you one of his dad’s golf clubs.”

After situating my coffee, I looked up and realized he was frowning about the food. “They put shit in my eggs.” I burst out laughing as he eyed the cilantro that had ruined his breakfast. He continued his assault on my history as he scooped the green off his plate. “Then there was your first serious boyfriend. I can’t remember his name. Oh yeah, it was ‘Oh, Nina. I love you, Nina. Oh, Nina.’“

My face burned with the memory of my baby brother bursting into my first real make out session. Thank God we were still fully clothed.

“Can we not dredge up the past, please?”

“I hated Ryan, for the record,” he stated of my ex-husband, ignoring my plea and opting for toast, bypassing his eggs completely.

“What about you, brat? It’s not like you have a great track record.” I stopped myself. His last breakup had hurt him in the way that can’t be joked about, and I apologized.

“Me too. I shouldn’t have brought up Ryan.” He looked sincere, and I nodded, stirring my coffee with my spoon. “Is it Devin?” When I had introduced the two before Devin and I got involved, I could see he assumed there was something going on. “I liked him.”

“You met him once.”

“Even so, is it him?”

“No,” I lied. “You know, Aaron, maybe we are destined to—”

“Don’t even say it, Nina. We aren’t them, and we will never be.”

Smiling, I agreed again without words. “I’ll buy you a house here.” He was shaking his head as the first two words spilled out. “They won’t even have to know.”

“Nina, I love you. You

are the most important person in my life, but I refuse to live off of you. I want to find my own way. And hey, I’m not doing so bad, okay. Don’t worry about me. You will always have me, just not here. It’s Florida, golfer’s paradise.”

“I’ll come to you then, and soon, okay. No more every six months shit. And we can’t count Christmas, except for last year when you sprinkled weed in Mom’s batch of Christmas cookies. That Christmas counts.”

We both exploded with laughter as we recalled her sleeping the entire day, suddenly “exhausted” while Dad, Aaron, and I drank on the patio playing Yahtzee, free from her reign. It was the best Christmas ever.

I paid the bill, and Aaron shoved money in my purse, cursing while giving me a disapproving eye. When we exited the tiny picket fence leading out into the street, I saw Aaron’s face contort in fear as he yanked at my arm hard and I was pulled off my feet. All I heard was a crunch and explosion of splintering wood. I felt an unbelievable throb in my side as I stared up at the blue sky, completely confused. I saw one head come into view then two, and soon I was screaming in pain.

“Fuck, did you get the license plate?” one guy shouted to another.

“No, they took off.”

The next voice spoke directly to me. “It’s okay, ma’am. We just called an ambulance.”

Panic caused my next scream to be directed toward my brother.

“Aaron! Aaron!”

“I’m here.” It was faint.

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