He nods at the pastry when I don’t immediately pick it up.
I take it, flakes scattering across the counter. I can’t remember when I last ate, maybe lunchtime yesterday? He does this regularly—shows up, checks on me without saying he’s here to check on me. It makes me feel cared for, but it also makes me feel like I can’t take care of myself.
Ciarán watches me for long seconds, then jerks his chin toward the front window. “You were staring pretty hard.”
Heat crawls up my neck. “I wasn’t—”
“Please.” His smile softens. “I know that look.”
Embarrassment swirls inside me. I don’t deny it. He knows me too well for me to even try.
“I could go with you,” he offers, casual but careful. “Stand in line, run interference. Easy.”
Easy. It should be easy. For someone normal, itwouldbe easy. If he knew how bad things have been, he wouldn’t call it easy. But I’ve hidden so much from everyone, so of course he thinks that.
My hand tightens on the pastry. The thought of crossing the street, of standing in a line with strangers brushing too close,of their eyes sliding to the scar on my cheek—my stomach roils again.
I shake my head. “Not today,” I say in a whisper, feeling like I’m admitting some huge secret.
Ciarán shrugs lightly without pushing. “Okay. Then we sit here, and I eat half your breakfast if you don’t hurry up with it.”
The playfulness in his tone earns him a laugh from me, weak but real. I bring the pastry to my mouth and take a bite.
Ciarán leans back on the stool, delicately brushing crumbs from his fingers. I go to open my mouth, but close it again when my phone buzzes on the counter. I glance down to see a text from my brother. “Aiden’s on his way,” I murmur. “Wants to catch up.”
Ciarán exhales through his nose, not quite a sigh, not quite a laugh. He balls up the pastry bag and drops it into the bin. “Guess that’s my cue.”
“You don’t have to go,” I say, though even to my own ears it sounds weak.
He tilts his head at me. “He barely tolerates me on his best days. I’m not in the mood today to sit here while he scowls at me.”
The words sting because it’s true. Ciarán’s been one of my best friends since we met in the first year of college, my anchor more times than I can count. I’m closer to him than anyone else. But Aiden’s my brother, two years younger, and his dislike of Ciarán has always sat sharp between them. One taunts with a grin, the other bites when pushed too far. Oil and water, and I’m caught in the middle.
Ciarán notices the look on my face and gives me a reassuring smile. “It’s not a big deal, I need to head off anyway.” His grin turns wicked. “And don’t worry, I’ll be in the mood to torment him next time. Text me later, we’ll do something during the week. Abbie is desperate for a night away from her roommates.”
I smile in return, looking forward to time with my friends, but before I can even answer, the door opens. Aiden steps in, wearing his typical gym shorts and hoodie combo, black on black. We’re clearly brothers, but he’s built broader from years of lifting, and slightly taller with eyes a darker green than mine. Those eyes flick to me, then to Ciarán, still lingering by the counter. His jaw tightens, nostrils flaring.
“Well,” Ciarán says blandly, smoothing down his outfit. “I’ll be off, then.”
He winks at me before slipping out the door.
I sigh as I watch him go. Aiden steps fully inside, adjusting his hoodie. He must have jogged here; sweat dampens his hairline, a few dark strands sticking to his forehead. I feel the cool February air clinging to him. He glances at the counter, at the half-eaten pastry, then back at me.
“Sorry, didn’t realize I was interrupting.” He sets a paper cup in front of me.
“It’s fine,” I tell him, fidgeting with the sleeve on the cup.
“Tea, from Kindle’s café.”
We share a small smile. Aiden’s always been like this—doing little things for me. Showing up with tea, fixing the shop door without being asked, small reminders that he’s always looking out for me.
Sometimes I feel guilty that he still needs to look after me so much, but he’s always been my protector. His status as younger brother never impacted that. I was always a shy and quiet kid, softer than most, and he constantly worried about me. That hasn’t changed over the years.
He leans an elbow on the counter, settling in like he’s been waiting to corner me. Green eyes catalog my face. “So, Gym opens next month.”
I nod. “I know. Everything going to plan?”
The question earns me a grin. My brother is opening Anchor Strength with his best friend of almost twenty years, Noah. He was practically one of the family growing up. He moved to LA five years ago after college to gain some experience. That, coupled with my brother becoming a father two years ago, paused their plans for a while, but they’re on track now.
