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“Then you feed him!” I threw up my hands. “Oh wait, that’s a responsibility, and we can’t have those, can we?”
“Come on, guys,” Flynn groaned. “I need to get this apartment ready for the market, and I don’t want to have to inform the real estate agent of a murder on the premises.”
“Fine, I’ll stay out of your way,” I said, marching toward the guest bedrooms. “But I expect Ethan to do the same!”
I couldn’t believe Ethan had been staying with my brother the entire time. I’d been worried sick that he’d been involved in a motorcycle accident, but I hadn’t called Flynn because I knew he’d worry about my PTSD and force me back to therapy.
Since the car accident that killed both our parents, I’d been plagued with anxiety. They’d been on their way to pick me up from a high school graduation party when a drunk driver ran a red light. I’d been sitting on a curb with a dead cell phone, waiting for hours before Flynn found me, and the moment I saw his face, I knew something terrible had happened. Now, whenever someone was more than a minute late, panic seeped in, and I’d been in that state since Ethan walked out.
Once I reached the master bedroom that Flynn once shared with Satan—I mean Susan, I walked over to her closet and threw open the double doors.
Racks of lavish dresses glittered, shimmered, and sparkled back at me. “Wow.”
“You can keep whatever you want,” my brother said, materializing behind me.
“Are you fucking with me? This is designer stuff. Won’t she come back for it?”
“She took what she wanted when she left. So, anything you don’t want is going to Goodwill.”
My gaping mouth morphed into a grin. “This is going to be fun.”
* * *
Midway through trying on every dress that piqued my interest, I heard the distinct sound of my cookie container opening.Oh, no you don’t!
I bolted to the kitchen and slammed the lid shut seconds before Ethan’s grubby little fingers touched my culinary delights.
“Hey!” he snapped. “You almost took my fingers off!”
“That was my intention,” I grumbled as I resealed the container.
Ethan sucked the crumbs off his fingertips with a twinkle in his eye. “I thought you liked my fingers.”
Heat blasted into my cheeks. “Fuck you,” I hissed under my breath.
“Did that…” he sang quietly.
As my pupils enlarged, Flynn reappeared in the kitchen. “Why did you bring cookies if we can’t eat them?”
“They’re for the cabin.”
“But that’s a few days away.” Flynn hovered closer, eyeing them too. “Can’t you just bake some more before we go?”
“You don’t have the ingredients I need.”
Flynn whipped out his wallet and slid his credit card across the counter. “Go to the supermarket tomorrow and get whatever you need.”
“Fine,” I uttered in a sigh as I reopened the container and held it out to my brother. At least baking would take my mind off Ethan.
Once he gathered a few cookies into his hand, I dumped the container back on the counter, just out of Ethan’s reach, making him growl.
“Can you two give it a rest for five minutes?” Flynn slumped onto the kitchen stool. “I want to enjoy my cookie in peace.”
Ethan brushed my side as he moved around the counter. “Likewise,” he uttered over my shoulder as he reached into the container.
Recoiling from his touch, I moved away and opened the fridge, searching for anything to dull his effect on me.
With a beer in hand, I hitched myself onto the stool beside Flynn and almost laughed. Looking at us, sitting side by side, it was hard to believe we were blood related. Flynn was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark-brown hair, while I was short, small-framed, and blonde. The only genetic proof of our connection was our eyes. Our father’s striking blue hues.
