Rafael grins lazily. “I’m a recent addition. You know, a plot twist.”
I shoot him a look, silently begging him to stop talking. “Sorry I didn’t tell you. It’s all really new.”
The cuffs click open, and Rafael rubs his wrists. “Thanks, Vanessa. Real gentle touch you’ve got there.”
“Don’t push it,” she warns, glowering at him before turning back to me. “And Scarlett, call me if you see anyone sketchy. Even if it’s your boyfriend.”
I wave. “Thanks, I will.”
With a final suspicious glance at Rafael, she heads back to her car. As soon as she’s out of earshot, I whirl around to face him. “Are you okay?”
He rubs his wrists again, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Your boyfriend, huh?”
Great. I think his brain disconnected after that.
“I had to saysomething,” I say, crossing my arms.
He laughs, deep and amused. “Not that I’m complaining, but you could have said I was helping you with a window that was stuck, or that you’d heard a noise in the backyard and sent me to check, or that you couldn’t find your keys, or—”
“Yes,” I burst out, walking back to the house. “Igetit.”
But Ipanicked, that’s it. And I guess I was still thinking about the stupid fake-dating book.
I only notice Rafael following once I step past the open door and Ethan’s eyes move to him.
“I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend.”
He watched that entire performance, didn’t he?
“Rafael, this is my brother, Ethan. Ethan, you might remember Rafael. He used to live next to us.” I watch the two of them shake hands, and when all eyes are on me again, I add, “And he’snotmy boyfriend.”
“Really?” Ethan glances over at Rafael, eyebrows raised. “He’s looking at you like he’s your boyfriend.”
I follow Ethan’s gaze to Rafael, who’s standing there with a goofy smile, eyes bright, as though he’s still riding the high of what I said. “Yeah, he does that sometimes.”
Ethan gathers his things, and my stomach quickly clenches. “Wait—where are you going?”
“Home,” he says, not meeting my eye.
“Already?” I sound a little too desperate, even to myself. “Why don’t you stay for dinner? We can order from Mario’s. You love their pizza.”
“It’s fine, really.” He throws his bag over his shoulder and heads toward the door. “You’re busy. With yourcatand yourpodcastand yourboyfriend.”
“I’m never too busy for you,” I say, his resentment digging a hole in my chest. When he ignores me, I follow him out. “At least let me drive you home.” Our grandparents’ place is a twenty-minute ride from here, and last I heard, Ethan didn’t have a car.
“I’m on my bike.”
I step out after him onto the porch, grasping for reasons to keep him here. “Well, I can fit it in the back of the car—”
He cuts me off. “It’s fine.”
I watch him unlock his bike from the fence, my chest tightening. I so want to be the cool sister. The one he can confide in, who respects his privacy and doesn’t sweat the fact that someone hurt him. But I’m also an adult, and I can’t ignore it.
“Ethan, we really need to talk about your face. Someone obviously attacked you—”
The moment he whips around, anger flashing across his face, I regret insisting.
“Let itgo, Scarlett,” he barks, his voice raw and bitter. He turns away from me and starts to pedal as he says, “Just like you did last time.”
