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"Dude, she's not going to let you forget that. That was a dumb move."
"Nah, she can't be the best at everything. It's not natural. It was my duty to knock her down a peg."
Bree crawls froward, and looks down at Mav. "So you nailed Becca in the ass, then came running, begging for help?"
He nods, the dim light from my kitchen shining on the goggles. "Pretty much."
Bree laughs again, and sighs, laying back on the floor. Now I'm feeling left out, so I lay on the floor too.
"It's okay," Bree reassures him. "We accidentally shot Holly. It hit her ice cream. She is so pissed. Then Micah got us. We ran like Godzilla was about to destroy the city."
Maverick sits up and peels the underwear up until it's sitting on the top of his head, yellow goggles making him look like some kind of bug. "You shot Holly? You fucked with her ice cream?"
His giggles start in his throat, high pitched. Predictably, it gets worse, and he collapses back onto the floor on his side, clutching his stomach. "You guys are so dead," he says between bouts of hysteria.
Bree and I trade a look, then nod. "We'll be back," I say. "We're going to the store. If you see Holly or Micah, tell them we're bringing a peace offering." I push to my feet and hold my hand out, glad she doesn't hesitate to reach out for me. I tug her up a little too forcefully, and with a laugh she lands against my chest. She tips her chin up, just the tiniest bit.
"Ice cream?" she asks with a grin. I can't resist giving her a boop on her nose. She scrunches up her face and rolls her eyes.
"Ice cream. First one out the door gets to drive."
With a gasp, she shoves me in the chest, then spins, jumping over a still giggling Maverick, and bolts for the door.
I don't run, content to just watch her for a second. Then I step over my brother, dragging my boot over his chest as I go. He punches me in the calf between giggles, then I follow Bree out the door.
5
BREE
"I'm sorry I'm late. I won't be long, promise," I yell as I bang through the front door. "Traffic sucked." I kick my shoes off and run straight to my bedroom, frantically throwing open my closet doors. I know I should've packed earlier, but I might've been avoiding thinking about this trip a little bit. Yeah, I'm super excited to go, but I know that Nick and I are going to be thrown together a lot over this weekend. I fully expect Cara and Declan to be lost in their own little world.
"The guys will be down here in a few minutes," Cara says from the doorway. She's wearing her classy version of relaxed, loose flowy pants and a slouchy shirt that probably cost a hundred bucks. The woman's wardrobe is small, but everything in it is expensive and makes her look like a million bucks.
"Shit! Shit! Okay, we're at the beach, so all we need is bathing suits and maybe a couple of dresses, right?" She nods, and I grab a handful of bathing suits and throw them on the bed.
Cara wanders over and drops to the bed, pawing through the suits. She holds up a turquoise two- piece with cut outs. "This one is cute. You'd turn all the boys' heads in this one."
I snort and yank the carry-on suitcase out of my closet. "I don't care about turning any boys' heads. I don't want a boy, a man, or a sugar daddy. I'm fine being single."
Cara nods soberly. "I know, honey. You shouldn't rush into anything. Not for a long time. But a little flirting is just fun, isn't it?"
"Flirting is sometimes fun. With the right guys anyway. But sometimes, I'd just rather not."
"Not every guy is like Tyler, honey."
Pulling open my underwear drawer with a little more force than necessary, I sift through the panties and bras. I shove the lacy ones out of the way and grab the basic sets. All cotton this trip. Nothing showy. Nothing I want anyone to look at. "I know that," I mutter.
She makes a low humming sound and grabs another bathing suit. A completely revealing bikini she bought for me and I never wore. But I don't object when she slides it into the suitcase. I'll wear it when hell freezes over. Maybe not even then.
"Bree," she says suddenly, hands gripping her knees tightly, "I don't know how to help you. You're hurting, and I just want you to be better."
"I know," I say, sitting next to her on the bed. The air between us feels suffocating. "I'm trying."
Her eyes fill with tears. "God. That came out wrong. Of course you're trying. I know you are. I just wish I could make it better. Or do something. I don't know what to do."
I take her hand, loving how tightly she grips me. When we're like this, together, it feels like there's nothing we can't handle. "I don't think this is a battle you can fight for me. We both went through something awful. But we went through different kinds of awful. I don't think it's your job to make me better Cara. It can't be." Sometimes I wonder how she can be so okay. She was there that night too, and yes, she had sleepless nights, but overall, she seems back to normal. And I just can't seem to get myself out of the deep end.
She opens her mouth to say more, eyes full of worry, but we're interrupted by the front door opening and Nick and Declan's voices. Cara closes her mouth and studies me, finally giving my hand one more squeeze before standing up. "Finish up. We'll leave when you're ready." Her grin turns maniacal. "I bought swimsuits for the guys. You have to help me convince them to wear them." Then she's gone.
