I drop to my knees to collect them, my pulse racing as I do, as I try to pile them all as carefully and quickly as possible.
“What are these?” Jesse asks. “I thought it was going to be, like, vibrators or something.”
I don’t even have it in me to laugh at that, at the idea that Jesse thought I had a box of vibrators just lying around in my car. Not when he lifts one, not when his eyes scan the paper, cut-up magazine words and photos, and doodles, and I realize it’s possibly the worst one.
In Jesse’s hands is the very first vision board Wren and I made, back when we used to daydream about my marrying her brother so we could be real sisters, so I could be tied to her for real, and so I could really be aKing.
I’d found the perfect image to add, and it felt like a sign. Wren and I giggled as I cut it out and glued it to the bottom left corner. It shows a redheaded woman in a wedding dress standing beside a dark-haired man with shorter hair, who looks more like Jesse used to than he does now. I could explain that away, really, but unfortunately, the most damning part isn’t the photo but the cut-out letters spelling out the dream:Mrs. Hallie King.
I wish the world would swallow me up.
“Is this…” he says, his voice low and confused.
“They’re my vision boards from when I was a kid. Give them to me,” I demand, trying to act like he doesn’t see myembarrassing childhood crush. God, could this get any worse? I spot another one from the following year and realize that one saysMrs. Jesse King. I grab it, slide it to the bottom of the stack, praying to all that is good in the world that he didn’t see it. But when I look at him again, his eyes are still scanning the one in his hands.
I comb my mind, trying to think of something, anything.
“Need anything else?” Colt asks, stepping into my room.
Instantly, Jesse drops the paper and stands, and I scramble to stack them neatly, placing them back into the box as quickly and as delicately as I can. Even if, in this moment, they feel like an embarrassing secret, they’re still precious to me: these far-off dreams, memories of who I once was and what I’ve wanted, and how that changed over the years. Snapshots of who I was each year that I don’t want to lose.
“Uh, I think that’s it,” I say, standing and looking around the room. I can handle unpacking the boxes myself, and honestly, some of it will just go into storage until I get more furniture to put things away. I also very much don’t want my brother or either of the King boys to be going through my things.
It’s not like therearen’ta vibrator or two hiding in those boxes. They’re just, you know.Hidden.
“Okay, well, then I’m gonna head out if you don’t mind. I’ve gotta check Wren and Adam’s places on my way home, make sure there’s no mail outside, and salt their walkways before the storm comes.” He looks from me to Jesse to the room around us. “You sure you don’t need help unpacking?”
I shake my head and give him a wide smile. “No, no. I’m good. Really. Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”
My brother rolled his eyes and shook his head before stepping to me and pulling me into his arms. “You always say that, and I always tell you?—”
“It’s your job as my big brother, yeah, yeah, yeah,” I murmur into his chest, letting myself soak in this moment with the one person who was always and will always be there. “Go, check Adam and Wren’s house, then go abroad in the quiet of a house without me.”
His grin widens then. “Oh, it’s going to be blissful.”
I roll my eyes as Madden enters our small huddle.
“Hey, Colt, do you mind driving me to my place? My dad picked me up this morning, so I don’t have my car here,” Madden says, and Colt nods before we all say our goodbyes and watch them drive off.
“I’m hungry,” Emma says as soon as Colt’s taillights are out of view. I let out a little laugh and hook my arm around her shoulder, pulling her into my side.
“You’re always hungry, Emma,” I say, tugging her along into my place since it’s absolutely freezing outside.
“Well, what are we making for dinner tonight?” she asks, and I turn to her with wide eyes.
“Em, I love you and all of your enthusiasm, but unfortunately, I’m old, and today took it out of me. I can’t move in and then also make dinner. Today will be a PB&J night for me,” I say with a laugh. Her nose scrunches up, clearly not pleased with that option, and I laugh.
“I’ll order delivery from Prima,” Jesse says from behind us. “We’ll have to eat it at my place, though, because I’m also old, which means eating pizza on the floor isn’t in the cards for me.”
Emma again rolls her eyes, and I laugh, shaking my head.
“You really don’t have to feed me. I brought the essentials over?—”
‘You’ve been feeding me every night this week,” he says, eyes locked on me. I open my mouth to argue that his mother fed him last night, but he shakes his head. “And babysitting. Please. Let me feed you tonight.”
His voice is sincere and on his face, and even though he just helped me all afternoon and even though I just snapped at him ten minutes ago, I sigh and grudgingly give in. A small smile tips his lips before I even speak.
“All right, all right,” I grumble.
