I tell myself it’s nothing. Chance is probably vaping somewhere, and Arran might be in the bathroom.
But I can’t shake an uneasy feeling.
I take a long drink from my beer, hoping alcohol will calm me down, but it doesn’t.
Charlie walks past and kisses my cheek. “Are you good? You look like you’re on a mission.”
“Yeah, just going to check out the new veggie patch Sienna’s been going on about,” I lie, because my boyfriend doesn’t need to watch me unravel. He nods and sends me on my way, alone, thankfully.
I drift away from the main group, telling myself I’m just stretching my legs. I follow the side path toward the back garden, where the veggie patch has been developed. It’s a peaceful spot that looks out over the rolling hills.
When I turn the corner, I hear something.
A low laugh.
Shit.
No, please no.
My feet move before my brain does. I step closer, cautiously, like I’m approaching a wild animal.
And then I see it.
Them.
Arran.
And Chance.
They’re tucked between the fruit trees, partly hidden. And they’re not talking.
They’re kissing.
Actually, kissing.
Chance has Arran pinned lightly against the fence, one hand cupping the back of his neck, the other gripping his hip. Arran’s fingers are knotted in Chance’s shirt, pulling him closer, kissing him back with this soft, eager intensity.
My heart stops.
My lungs forget how to function.
My brain detonates.
This doesn’t look like a drunk mistake.
This looks like they’ve been building to this all day.
Chance slows the kiss, mouth lingering, breath brushing Arran’s lips as he murmurs something low that makes Arran blush a deep pink.
I can’t breathe.
It’s not jealousy.
Not like that.
It’s …
He’s my brother.
