Fucking finally.
When I pull back, she's dazed. Flushed. Looking atme like I've just done something miraculous instead of something we should have done a decade ago.
“Holy shit,” someone whispers.
I think it's Charlie.
Or maybe Holly.
Or maybe it's the entire room, speaking in unison.
I don't care. I'm still holding Sierra's face in my hands, still breathing her air, still trying to convince myself this is real.
“That was—” She swallows. “That was very public.”
“That was the point.”
“Right. Yes. Public.” She blinks rapidly. “My brothers.”
Reality crashes back in stages.
First, the murmuring crowd—guests and staff and festival volunteers who just witnessed something they definitely didn't expect on tonight's program.
Then, Holly and Charlie and the rest of Sierra's friends, who are clutching each other and vibrating with barely contained screams.
And then?—
The Barrett brothers.
Roman stands frozen, his expression cycling through about seventeen different emotions in the span of three seconds. Shock. Confusion. Something that looks like betrayal, quickly buried. Something else that might be understanding, fighting to surface.
Caleb has his phone out. Of course he does. He's probably already drafted a hashtag.
And Nolan...
Nolan just nods. Once. Like this is exactly what he expected.
I keep one arm around Sierra—I'm not letting her go, not now, not ever—and turn to face her brothers.
“I know you have questions.”
“Questions?” Roman's voice comes out strangled. “You just—in front of—she said—” He drags both hands through his hair, a gesture so similar to mine it would be funny if the tension wasn't thick enough to choke on. “How long?”
Sierra stiffens against me. I squeeze her hip.I've got this.
“Eleven years.”
Roman makes a sound like he's been punched.
“Off and on,” I clarify, because that matters, because I won't let him think we've been laughing behind his back this whole time. “Mostly off. She ended it when we were kids because she was afraid of?—”
“Losing you,” Sierra finishes quietly. “I was afraid of losing all of you.”
Roman's jaw works. He looks at his sister—really looks at her—and something in his expression shifts. Cracks.
“You hid this from us for eleven years?”
“I was seventeen when it started, Roman. And scared. And stupid.” She pulls away from me just enough to face her brother fully, but her hand finds mine and holds on tight. “I thought if you found out, everything would fall apart. The family. Your friendship with Everett. All of it.”
