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“Sure thing. You okay?” Patrick checks with me before taking two steps in, kissing me, and then motioning to the bar.
“Yeah, I’m good. Go.”
Turning to Warren, I follow him to where Alana sits, deep in conversation with a brunette woman.
“You okay being out?” Warrens asks, lowering his voice as we walk.
“Yeah, honestly, it feels good to be here. Normal. I need a little normal, even with everything.”
“Don’t we all.” His smile is sympathetic.
“Hey! I didn’t realize you were coming. My brother has you locked up in that sex dungeon.”
“Lana, gross. Siblings don’t talk about that shit,” Liam mutters as he pulls some chairs over, giving our group more seating.
She shrugs and hugs me anyway.
“Patrick suggested we have a night out of the dungeon.” Giving Alana a small smile, I turn to Liam, who nods supportively but doesn’t hug me.
“Good. We’ll get you nice and drunk before we all have to find our way homes in this frozen tundra.” Alana chuckles.
“This is nothing and you know it. Remember the time I had to shovel your car out of four feet of snow and couldn’t because it was frozen solid after you tried to windshield wiper it off?” Warren raises his eyebrow in her direction.
“No one told me to refrain from using that fluid.” She shrugs.
“You were twenty, no one should have had to tell you that.” He smacks his palm to his head.
“I don’t even understand how your windshield wiper fluid wasn’t frozen in the first place.” Liam looks bewildered.
“Here’s your drink, baby.” Patrick joins me, wedging into the couch and making me even warmer as the fire crackles in front of us.
“Anyone check on Mom and Dad before coming out?” Alana asks.
“They were about to watchCasablanca, and I think your mom had cinnamon buns in the oven.” Warren, the non-Ashton sibling, fills everyone in.
“Oh, gross.” Alana winces at the same time as Liam makes a vomiting noise, and Patrick covers his ears like it’s the worst sound in the world.
“What?” I’m lost.
Patrick looks ill. “Every time they watchCasablanca, it means they plan on being …romantic.”
“I’m going to throw up,” Liam mutters.
A lightbulb goes on. “Oh. I mean, it’s kind of sweet, though? That they still love each other so much. Are attracted to each other.”
“Yuck, please stop talking about sex and parents.” Alana cringes.
“Says the woman who was just talking about siblings and sex,” Liam reminds her.
I chuckle as I sip my drink, loving their banter. The Ashton family is one of the closest I know, and it’s a privilege to sit and listen to them verbally spar.
“Yeah, but that’s different. There is something inherently wrong about ever picturing … ew. As children, we all just assume we were magically dropped off by a stork, and that’s how it should remain.” Patrick nods like this is the most reasonable explanation.
“And for some of us, it’s true.” Warren smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
No one says anything for a moment, and I try to save the conversation. “If it makes you all feel better, I have zero idea how the people biologically responsible for my life ever even stepped foot in the same room.”
“Or how you picked Patrick, of all people. A glamorous, Hollywood starlet and my boring accountant brother. Who would have thought?” Alana ribs my boyfriend.
