She bites her inner cheek. “And I didn’t watch aStar Warsmovie ever—until a couple months ago.”
“You threw such a fit.” I laugh, shaking my head, remembering the way she yelled at us. “I can’t believe you went back on your word.”
She tugs at her hand, but I don’t release her. Nope, she’s staying right here, with me. “I didnotthrow a fit. And if I did, it’s because my brother was standing behind you, giving me the kill sign and shaking his head no at me.”
“Hold up.” My brow furrows. This is new information. “Really? Brice told you no?”
She sighs, leaning her head back on my shoulder. “Brice always told me no when it came to you. He never wanted to share.”
“He was seventeen. All seventeen-year-olds are kind of selfish.”
She hums. “I know. He was actually pretty decent to me—as long as his dorky sister wasn’t embarrassing him in front of his athletic boss of a best friend.”
“What would he think of us now?” I ask, pressing a gentle kiss to her head.
“He’d be pissed at both of us. Major kill signs all around.”
I turn, dipping my head to meet her eyes. “You think?”
Stella lifts one shoulder. “I’m not sure. Brice died before we had a chance to become friends. I was just his annoying little sister most of the time.” She swallows. “At least, that’s what I thought,” she says. “Until you told me different.”
“He loved you. He just didn’t want to watchStar Warswith you.” I wink, teasing her, and tap one finger to the screen. “But I do.”
Forty-Seven
The Uber pulls upin front of a large ranch-style home in northern Atlanta. Roman’s brows pull together as the car stops. He peers out the window at the large home, his brow lowering with every passing second. And I silently pray that this was a good idea. That I have not overstepped. That if the next two days go down in flames, he’ll find it in that big heart of his to forgive me.
“Are you okay?” I say, setting one hand on his forearm.
“Fine.”
I swallow. “We’re here for Mason. That’s it. Nothing else.”
He slips his left hand into mine, and squeezes. Then he’s got his car door open and we’re making our way out of the sedan.
The driver helps Roman get our bags from the trunk and then hops back into his car. The sun shines overhead, beating down, though it can’t be more than fifty degrees out here. The porch light is on next to the wooden double door entry, even though it’s the middle of the day. Windows linethe front of the home, framed in pretty shutters. There’s a green, neatly trimmed hedge surrounding the yard and large Christmas bulb lights staked to the side of the stony walkway. A Christmas wreath adorns each front of the double doors. It makes our cabin look just as rustic as Noreen thought it was. This place must be worth more than all of mine and Roman’s assets and incomes combined. Not that I’m contributing much in the income department.
Still.Wow.
We stare at the house another minute and then Roman breaks the silence. “So, you’re saying I’m not here to ask my dad why he’s basically been absent for the majority of my life?” he deadpans.
“Ah.” My jaw opens while my brain searches for an answer. “I mean, if you want to, then ask him.”
“I don’t want to. I don’t need his excuses or guilt. I just want to meet my brother.”
“Perfect.” My heart patters. “Roman, you have abrother.” I’m not sure when I’ll be over the fact. My shoulder brushes his, and I squeeze his fingers. “We both know how special that is.”
He peers down at me. “Yeah.” His Adam’s apple bobs with a swallow. “No wasted time. If we could have Brice back?—”
“We would.” I tilt my head to the side and study the house once more. “Even if he decided he wanted to disown us.” I blow a shaky breath from my throat. “Shall we do this?”
“Let’s go.”
Roman doesn’t pause. He lifts his hand to the wooden door and knocks. “What if he doesn’t like the soccer ball?”
“He’s going to love it. Little boys love that kind of thing.”I don’t actually know what little boys love, but Brice and Roman were always messing around with some kind of ball.
“Have you met your stepmom?” I ask as we just stare at the doors in front of us, waiting for them to magically open.
