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“Stop ignoring his calls, Isa.” Felix walked past with an armful of fuzzy red tubes. “You know he won’t stop until you answer.”

My phone vibrated with another insistent buzz, underscoring his point.

I ignored it, as I had all morning. I’d learned my lesson after picking up Gabriel’s last call and getting saddled with a ridiculous deadline for my book.

I bet my favorite black leather boots he was calling to check on my progress. Unlike normal people, Gabriel texted for emergencies and called for bullshit, so I wasn’t worried about a health scare for Mom or an earthquake destroying our family home in California.

“That’s precisely why I’m not answering,” I told Felix. “I like to imagine his face getting all red and sweaty like that time I shrunk his favorite dress shirt when he came home from college.”

My second-oldest brother laughed and shook his head.

Of all my siblings, he was the one I was closest to. Not in terms of age (that would be Romero) or temperament (that would be Miguel), but in terms of sheer compatibility. Unlike anal-retentive Gabriel, Felix was so laid-back no one would believe he was a renowned artist.

He lived in L.A.’s hip Silver Lake neighborhood most of the year, but he kept a small art studio/apartment in New York since he had so many shows here. He’d landed yesterday and was busy putting the final touches on his sculpture for some big art show next month.

Since I hated working in silence, I’d crashed his studio time with my laptop, a bag of Sour Patch Kids, and a ruthless determination to finish chapter ten before my shift. I was finally making progress on my book, and I wanted to wring out every bit of momentum before it inevitably fizzled out on me.

“Be nice, Isa. It’s probably nothing.” Felix twisted two of the red tubes into a double helix shape. He’d tried to explain the sculpture’s symbolism earlier, and I’d nearly passed out from boredom. As much as I loved him, I wasn’t built for that type of art appreciation. “I bet he wants to know what you’re buying Mom for her birthday so we don’t accidentally double up.”

I hadn’t told him about the manuscript ultimatum, and I’m guessing Gabriel hadn’t either.

“We won’t. The day we come to an agreement on anything, including gifts, is the day hell experiences an Arctic freeze.” I switched topics before Felix could probe further. He was the peacemaker of the family, so he was always trying to wrangle us into some semblance of harmony. “Speaking of Mom’s birthday, are you bringing your new girlfriend?”

“Maybe,” Felix said noncommittally. He went through girlfriends like candy, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he had a new one by the time February rolled around. “What about you? Mom’s been banging on about your love life since…”

Him.

The unspoken word hung between us like a guillotine poised to drop. It dug into my bones, excavating memories long buried beneath piles of guilt and shame while a thick lump clinched my throat.

The clink of ice against glass. The gleam of a signet ring beneath the lights. The echoes of a deep voice whispering all the words I’d wanted to hear.

I love you. I miss you. We’ll go away, just the two of us.

A fantasy that ended in tears, blood, and betrayal. Two years later, I was still grappling with the fallout from my younger self’s stupid decisions.

The lump expanded, pressing against my nose and the backs of my eyes until the studio blurred.

I blinked away my tears and typed a random word just so I had something to do. “No. I don’t bring guys home anymore.”

For a brief, unbidden moment, dark eyes and a crisp British accent flashed through my mind before I batted them away.

Kai and I weren’t lovers. We weren’t even friends. He had no business invading my thoughts like that.

When I looked up again, Felix was watching me with his signature knowing stare. “It’s been two years,” he said gently. “You can’t let that asshole ruin your trust in relationships forever.”

I shook my head. “That’s not it.” He’d shared similar sentiments before, and my lies tasted less bitter every time I uttered them. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust relationships as a concept; it was more that I didn’t trust myself. But he didn’t need to know that. “I’ve been busy. You know, with work and the book.”

I could tell he didn’t believe me, but in true Felix fashion, he didn’t press the issue. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. I have single friends.”

That pulled a genuine smile out of me. “You’re the only brother I know who would willingly set up their sister with a friend. Also thanks, but no thanks. I would rather die.”

I shuddered at the thought of sleeping with anyone who was associated with a family member in any way. I was a firm believer in the separation of church (the sanctity of my sex life) and state (surveillance from my mother and overprotective brothers).

“I’m an excellent judge of character,” Felix said, unfazed by my disgust. “I wouldn’t set you up with someone you wouldn’t like.”

“I’m not worried about that because you’re not setting me up with anyone.” I glanced at the top corner of my screen and cursed when I saw the time. “Shit! I have to go. I’m going to be late for work!”

So much for finishing chapter ten.

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