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Coop flops back against the bed. “Seb told me you want her to come over at Christmas.”
“Yep.”
“Christmas.”
“Isn’t that what I just said?”
Lately, it’s all I’ve been thinking about. Bex would fit right in with our traditions. I want to show her my parents’ house in Port Washington. My parents always go all-out for decorations, with a towering tree in the entryway that my mother has professionally decorated, plus the little one in the den with all our homemade ornaments. I want to take her downtown for the town tree lighting. Kiss her underneath the ball of mistletoe Mom always puts over the kitchen entryway. Drag her into the cutthroat game of Monopoly my siblings and I play every Christmas Eve.
Maybe it’s silly, but I want to fall asleep next to her in my childhood bedroom. I want to see if she has any cute Christmas earrings, and if she doesn’t, buy her a pair or ten. I want my family to see how special she is.
Cooper draws me out of my daydream with a frustrated noise. “James. I love you. But this is a bad idea. Dad already doesn’t like her.”
“I can handle Dad. She’s not Sara.”
“At least Sara would have followed you anywhere you went in the league.”
“What?”
“She’s committed to the diner, right? Which means she’ll be here. You’re probably going to be across the country.”
I set down my notebook. I love my brother, but this is irritating. Sometimes his overprotectiveness, a quality I usually admire in him, can be a bit much. When it comes to our baby sister, sure. But I can handle myself, and he doesn’t know Bex the way I do. “It’s complicated. Her mother is still attached to the diner.”
“Her mother the accidental arsonist?”
“Jesus, Coop.”
He sits up. “What, am I wrong? You started out pretending to date her, which was doomed from the fucking start because you get like this, man. You romanticize things. You’re letting yourself get in too deep with a girl who isn’t going to be able to give herself to you the way you’re giving yourself to her.”
“Because you’re some great expert on relationships? Have you ever even tried to be in one?” I pretend to think for a moment. “Right, you haven’t.”
“I know you. I know how you get when you think you’re in love.”
“I’m not in love with her,” I reply. But my heart jumps into my throat.
I’m not lying, exactly. But I’m not telling the whole truth, and damnit, Cooper can tell.
“I think she’s cool,” he says. “I’m not saying she isn’t.”
“But?”
“But she’s going to hurt you. It’s just a matter of when.”
Anger rolls through me. “Noted.”
He scoots up the bed until he’s sitting next to me. “Just make sure you’re thinking this through.”
“Did you come in here just to insult my girlfriend?” I say shortly. I’m officially done with this conversation.
He rubs his beard, looking me over. He must sense my resistance because he shakes his head slightly. “No, I wanted to talk about Izzy. Does she still want to go into the city for a shopping spree? Dinner after at Le Bernardin?”
I stifle a sigh. Arguing with him about Bex won’t lead anywhere good, so instead I say, “I was hoping she wanted to go to see that Harry Styles concert or something.”
He huffs. “Same. But you have to admit, this is the most her Izzy Day she’s ever come up with. Fifth Avenue shopping? She’ll love it.”
When we were younger, our parents turned our birthdays into fun, exclusive excursions, dubbed “James Day” or “Sebastian Day.” That’s how Cooper got to skate in Madison Square Garden during a Rangers practice for his sixteenth birthday, and how when I turned fourteen, we had the most kickass arcade day ever. When Izzy had her Sweet Sixteen, our parents took her and her friends to St. Barts for a long weekend. This year? All she’s wantedlately is to be in the city, so this isn’t surprising, but it’s going to be brutal to watch her try on dresses for six hours straight.
“Maybe she can help me pick out my suit for the Heisman ceremony. That would be productive, at least.”
