Tate shakes his hand without any hesitation, definitely not looking as nervous as I know he feels. I have to hide my tiny grinas I watch him interacting with my dad like he’s not the most awkward guy I’ve ever met. Something blooms in my chest at that. I’mproudof him.
“Of course, sir.”
It’s unfair how cute he is without trying to be.
Voices emerge from the dining room, and I know it’s my brothers before they even enter the room based on the sounds of them firing insults back and forth at each other. It’s always a game of who can come up with the funniest roast of the other one. My eyes roll playfully as I cross my arms over my chest, knowing what’s going to come as they appear in the archway of the foyer.
Mateo and Maverick are fraternal twins. They’re similar in a lot of ways; they look just like our dad, while I look like Mom, but they’re also different. Mateo is a hair shorter than Maverick, but they’re both over six feet tall. Mav’s hair is a little bit more curly than Mattie’s, while Mattie’s is a little darker. Maverick’s eyes are blue, which he gets from our grandmother, and Mateo’s are brown. They’re essentially two sides of the same coin, like yin and yang.
“Evie,” they say in unison, and I brace myself for impact.
They bear hug me from both sides, trapping me in their arms as one of them rubs their knuckles into my scalp, ruffling up my hair and making me squirm in discomfort. It’s like a ritual every time I come home; it’s always the damn noogies. I can’t stand when they do that.
“Alright,alright,” I growl into the void of arms and snickering like children as they torture me.
As they let me go, they mumble a brief hello to Tate, but I catch the way they share a look between each other. Using that dumb twin telepathy shit they always do; it used to drive me crazy when I was younger and wanting to always be included in the fun.
Little do they know that I’m fully prepared to defend Tatum, however I need to. I’m too old for their antics anymore. I can spend my time with whoever I want because I’m a grown woman now. Not the little sister who needs protecting.
“Boys, go grab their luggage,” Mom instructs them, and I shoot her a thankful, thin-lipped smile. She knows how persistent they can be.
“Sure thing,” Maverick says, putting his hand on Tate’s shoulder. “Come on,Tate.”
I level him with an annoyed glare, and he holds his hands up, feigning innocence, before darting out of the front door. My hand wraps around Tate’s wrist before he can follow suit behind them, pushing up on my tiptoes to speak lowly in his ear.
“Don’t let them try to intimidate you.”
He smiles down at me, giving me a small nod before he’s pulling out of my grasp and heading outside after them. What does that mean? Was that a good or a bad nod? My mind goes into a spiral before my mom steps in again to save the day.
“He’shandsome, Mae,” Mom says. “And he seems sweet.”
“He is sweet.”
“Not handsome?” she pushes, the corner of her lip twitching.
The side look I shoot her must be enough to get her to stop pestering me about it, because she drops her chin to her chest with a small nod. But if there’s not one thing to nag about, there’s always something else.
She’s quiet for a few seconds before saying, “And Landon… You guys just didn’t work out?”
I swallow. “No. We’re over. Completely.”
Mom looks at me, and her brows twitch in almost a frown, but she quickly smooths it out before I can go deciphering what it means.
I put my hands on her shoulders. “It’s agoodthing, Mom.”
This time, I’m the one pulling her in for a hug, and I know it’s going to be the start of many this weekend, but she’s used to it. If there’s one thing I’m always going to do, it’s turn into a little girl again when I’m around her. I still crawl into bed with her from time to time when I’m home, and then my dad makes breakfast in bed in the morning while we watchMamma Mia!It’s a whole tradition. I’ll do it until I’m old, I don’t care.
Our moment is interrupted as the twins come back inside, more of our suitcases in tow, with Tate trailing behind them. Everythingseemsnormal, but I know my brothers, and I know they don’t have a bone in their body that’s capable of not saying what’s on their mind. I study Tate’s face as he walks in, and when his dark eyes meet mine, he smiles.
“Well, you two get cleaned up. Take a nap. Whatever you need to do,” Mom says. “We’ll be prepping for dinner. You’re welcome to join us, but if you need to rest, we’ll see you for dinner at five.”
My feet are taking me up the stairs before I can even ponder what I’d like to do because I need to know if my brothers tried to rile him up outside. I need to know if they’re beingnice. Tate follows me up the steps, our main bags in each hand so we can get cleaned up, and I lead him down the hallway toward my old bedroom door.
“This is me,” I tell him, turning to face him before pointing to the door across the hall. “This is the guest bedroom.”
That smile is still dancing along his lips as he nods, lifting my bag and walking it into my room. I can’t tell what it means, or if he’s just trying to put on a brave face for me, so I quickly follow in behind him, closing the door quietly.
“Are you okay?” I ask him before he’s even set my bag on the floor.
