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And that was the final, crushing blow.
Mini. He fucking called me Mini.
Every last ounce of air left my lungs as I launched myself into my apartment and shut the door. I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to laugh for being stupid enough to think that something would happen after years of waiting for him to notice me or if I wanted to cry over the fact that he liked women like Sadie and called me Mini. Like he was my brother or something.
When I could finally breathe again without feeling like there was a weight crushing my chest, I dragged myself to my bedroom and fell face-first onto the bed. Not five minutes later, I became intimately familiar with Sadie’s voice, and I had no doubt she was being that loud because she knew I was right next door.
Grabbing my phone, I texted Bryce and went around collecting clothes for tomorrow. Not bothering to change what I was wearing—since I was sure at least Bryce would appreciate it—I threw a sweatshirt over my camisole and slid into my flip-flops before running out of my apartment and to my car.
MACI
“Well, well, look who it is,” my brother began the next morning. “Here all bright and early like she actually has a job or something.”
I glanced at the clock and raised an eyebrow without ever looking up at him. “Screw off, Dylan.”
“Dakota,” he casually corrected.
Instead of looking up to confirm I was correct, I kept my stare on the computer screen and continued furiously clicking on the mouse. “Dakota already tried that on me yesterday. You forget I’ve known you both my whole life...you’re also twenty-five. Aren’t you two a little old for the confusing-people game?”
He sat on my desk with a huff and brought his feet up to the arm of my chair. “But I did confuse you. Right, Mini?”
“Didn’t,” I amended and forced a disappointed pout. “Speaking of bright and early...I’ve been here for four hours. Where were you until just now?”
“Not your business. At least I still showed up, seeing as you didn’t come in at all yesterday.”
“I told Dakota I was cramping,” I muttered, fully expecting that to be the end of the discussion, but Dylan kicked my chair, sending me rolling away with my wireless mouse in hand. “Excuse you. I was about to beat my fastest time.”
“You used the cramping excuse last week,” he informed me with a victorious smirk.
“Shit.” I worried my bottom lip and looked toward the back office. “Did Dad still buy it?”
“Yeah, he did that thing where it looks like you’re about to throw snakes at him.”
A laugh scraped up my throat when Dylan tried recreating the way our dad jumped back and alternated lifting his hands to his ears, as if to block what you were saying, and throwing them in your direction, as if to push you away from him.
“So, where were you?” Dylan asked when he sank onto the desk again.
“I’ve been here all morning. Where were you?”
His expression fell for a few seconds before he kicked at me again, connecting with my knee. “I meant yesterday, Mini.”
“Shit, that hurt,” I cried out as I held onto my knee, my narrowed eyes trained on him. “I’ll tell you if you tell me.”
“I’ve been in meetings with clients since nine, so I didn’t stop by here first. Now, spill.”
“Oh...huh.” I’d been hoping it would be something I could tease him about. Rubbing my knee one last time, I scooted my chair back to the desk so I could start another game, shrugging as I lied, “I had cramps.”
Grabbing the arms of my chair, Dylan wheeled me back and hopped off the desk so he was caging me in. “Tell the truth before I get the others, and we start hunting down every guy in your phone.”
And this is why I can’t have a boyfriend.
I sighed and pushed on his chest until he moved away. “No need to start swinging fists. I went shopping.”
“Shopping,” he echoed dully.
“Yes, Dylan. Shopping.” I tossed the last word out as if I’d committed a major sin, then shooed at him. “Now, go away.”
“You ditched work on a Thursday to go shopping?” he said slowly, the question filled with disbelief. “And what was so important that it couldn’t wait two days? A special on training bras?”
