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It’s safe to say, the internal thoughts of teen me are the last things I need my mother disclosing in the middle of a Netflix-sponsored meet-and-greet.
However, Chase is amused as hell, and I’m half tempted to give him a little nudge in the stomach with my elbow.
I don’t, obviously. I can’t have my readers thinking I’m a violent person.
Plus, my sister has perfect timing and prevents any violence or diary-revealing by approaching our group again. I glance behind her and see that my nephews are in the back of the room with their iPads. Since the environment of Hometown Recreation Hall is only filled with book people and bookish things, it’s low in entertainment value for a four-year-old and a six-year-old, and I think the tablets are a mighty fine solution.
But my dad audibly disagrees with a scoff. “Oooh, screen time. Something new for a change.”
I have to bite my tongue as he leans forward and gives me a kiss on the cheek before muttering, “I’ll be out at the car. Good job, Brookie.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
My mom leans in and gives me the same kiss, but then she sweeps her hand over my cheek and begs, “Visit more,” before following my dad out the door.
As soon as they’re gone, my sister’s full personality comes out. Leaning in again and pulling me in for a swinging hug, she howls a little and pats me on the back almost brutally.
It hurts, but in the best way possible.
“I’m so, so happy for you. The only thing that would make me happier is staying with you instead of going back with the SnickleFritzes, but dear God, it’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too, sis.” I gesture to Chase, who’s still standing dutifully behind me with a smile like he’s the most entertained he’s been in a long time. “This is my editor, Chase Dawson. Chase, this is my sister, Sam.”
They shake hands, but Sam looks at me with wide, holy moly, he’s a looker eyes the whole time before finally glancing back to him. “Nice to meet you, Chase. I bet you can’t wait to pull out of here.”
A soft chuckle escapes his sexy throat. “I’m enjoying it so far. But I am a third party, which I’ve heard greatly improves the enjoyment of family antics.”
“Uh, yeah. I’d say so.” Sam snorts and rolls her eyes at the same time. “I’m suffering through those exact antics every freaking day now. Every morning I wake up, I wonder how much longer I can survive.”
Chase tilts his head to the side.
“Me and the boys are currently shacking up with the parental units,” my sister answers his nonverbal question, and he grimaces.
“That’s gotta be rough.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.” Sammy nods. “I honestly think the CIA could start using the Baker house as a form of torturing answers out of war criminals.”
Out of nowhere—or perhaps, a very crazy place I’ve never met before—an idea hits me and rolls out of my mouth all at one time. “Why don’t I give you the keys to my place in New York?”
Sammy’s head jerks back. “What?”
“I’m going to be gone for the next three weeks anyway, and you’ve never really spent any time in the city but always wanted to. You could stay at my place while I’m gone.”
“But…I have the boys.”
“I know.” I snicker. “They’re quiet right now, but I didn’t forget they exist. My apartment isn’t huge, but there’s enough room for them.”
“Brooke…I don’t… I mean, I want to, but…” She pauses and searches my eyes. “Are you sure?”
I think a little harder about it, and funnily enough, the idea sounds even better. It’s not like I’ve got anything of high value in my place other than my Dolly CDs that a whole generation would make fun of me for using rather than streaming from my phone anyway, and my sister needs this. Desperately. Her eyes are sunken, and her skin is pale. Even her usually vibrant red hair has faded to a subtle ginger.
I’d do anything to bring her back to life.
“One hundred percent sure,” I respond without a single doubt. “You need some time to rest and rejuvenate away from Mom and Dad.” I turn around and grab my brown leather satchel purse from its spot beside Benji under the table, and I dig into the front pocket to get my keys. When I spin around again, Sammy is crying, and Chase has pulled her into an innocently comforting hug.
He passes her off to me, of course, and I pull her tight into my arms. “Oh, Sammy.”
“Brooke, you have no idea how much I need this.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
“Thank you,” she whispers. “This is…this is something I’ll never forget you doing for me.”
“Come on,” I groan teasingly and try to swallow down the urge to cry. “I actually did my makeup tonight, and you’re going to mess it up.”
