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Instead, Timothy’s staring at me and I’m pretty sure my eyes have gone cartoon-character wide. I’ve got one round powdered sugar-covered ball sticking out of my mouth, my hands cradling another four cookies like I’ll fight him to the death over them.
I might, actually. They’re really good.
“Oh. My. God.” Timothy pulls his hat off, tossing it on the floor, a massive smile on his face. “What the hell have you been doing?”
Before I can juggle the cookies into one hand to pull the one from my mouth, he cups his hand to his mouth and shouts. “Nic!”
Oh god. Timothyknowssomething happened between us.
I’d rather choke on this damn cookie and die than admit I hooked up with Nic to Timothy.
A pretty, dark-haired woman in an adorable jacket steps into the house next to Timothy.
Shit.
Mina.
Can this day get any worse?
Nic walks out of the great room, the smile falling off his face when Timothy points at me. Nic’s eyes sweep over me and he shrugs at Timothy, giving him aShe’s your sister, I don’t know what the hell is wrong with herlook as he moves forward to greet Mina warmly.
Sure,thisis his only ever Oscar-worthy performance.
I cough, inadvertently sucking powdered sugar and cookie crumbs into my lungs as my brother continues to stare at me, while Nic asks Mina about her flight.
My death on these stairs is going to be as slow and as awkwardly painful as possible. Tears burn in my eyes and I can’t stop coughing. I shoot Timothy a look that hopefully communicateshelp me, I’m dying, you loserrather thanyour best friend, who I hate, ate me out and I’m dying of embarrassment. And also cookie.
The three of them stand there, staring at me—Timothy grinning, Mina smiling politely, and Nic looking like he wants me to disappear through the floor—while I stare back in horror.
Mina breaks the silence. “You must be Jessie.”
Her wide smile is beautiful. If it weren’t for the tears streaming from my eyes or the fact that I can’t breathe, I’d admit Timothy’s punching well above his weight getting this woman to agree to marry him. Instead, I cough, splutter, and finally bolt for the kitchen and a glass of water.
Timothy’s laughter chases me down the hall.
“What—?” My mother glances up with a frown as I drop the cookies into the garbage, spitting out what’s left in my mouth with zero grace before snagging my mug and filling it with water.
Timothy, Mina, and Nic aren’t far behind. Timothy pushes Nic away from the mistletoe-baited doorway before planting a massive kiss on a surprised but laughing Mina.
Ugh, if I hadn’t just dry-heaved a cookie into the garbage, my brother’s noisy kissing would make me vomit. My coughing subsides, but my eyes are still watering. I grab a cloth and wipe the powdered sugar off my hands and mouth, heading back to the table.
I walk smack into Nic, who came around the long way since Timothy and Mina are still in the doorway. He grabs my arms, steadies me, and walks away. Like he can’t get away from me fast enough.
Whatever. Half an hour ago, his face was all up in my pussy.
I dust powdered sugar off my sweater, trying to collect myself. I need to force Nic out of my mind so I can meet my soon-to-be sister-in-law with a tiny shred of dignity intact.
My mother catches Mina up in a hug when Timothy finally releases her. My father waits for his turn. They met her after Timothy’s accident. Amanda, Hazel, and the kids come thundering in from the front door, and everything descends into chaos.
Turns out, everyone has already met Mina. Except me.
Okay, that stings, but I still see Timothy’s point. He’s absolutely wrong, but I know the things I’ve said to him, trying to convince him I was fine after Camden. The things I’ve said about love and relationships. I’m not that cynical, but it’s easier to be cynical than to admit it hurts that I can’t make a relationship last.
Timothy and I haven’t been close enough as adults for the trust between us to overcome my bullshit. I have a lot of work to do.
It starts now. Here. With Mina.
Mina wraps me into a tight hug when we’re formally introduced, signaling her openness to get to know me. I mirror her enthusiasm and try not to think about Nic, whose eyes I feel on my back.
