“It’s not the most…conventional gift,” I admitted.
Lane’s long, thick fingers pried the lid off and withdrew the object nestled on a foam cushion inside.
At the end of a long chain was a bullet, its piercing end mushroomed into an oddly beautiful shape that resembled a blooming flower.
“Is this…?”
I nodded. “Yeah. The one that almost killed you.”
Then, without waiting for further response, I got up and left the room.
It had been years since I’d been inside this house, but it hadn’t changed a bit except for the photos that lined the mantle in the den. Back then, the frames had been filled with photos of the kids’ school pictures. Now, they featured Owen and Delia,and Crew and Aspen’s wedding photos; a few shots of Owen’s son, Jace; Reagan and Finn; Lane the day he’d been sworn in as sheriff; West grinning down from horseback; and of course, Aria, throwing a cheeky wink at whoever was behind the camera while doing her thing on stage at the Swallow.
She sat on an armchair in the corner of the room, face red with anger.
“For what it’s worth,” I said quietly to her. “I’m proud of you.”
Her lips twitched in an attempt at a grin, and she said, “Thank you. They just…god, they make me somad.”
I only had one older brother myself, but I knew the feeling well.
But I didn’t say anything else to her as I sank down onto the long, L-shaped sectional and dropped my head into my hands. Before I had a chance to die of embarrassment, footsteps approached, and I looked up to find Aspen and Reagan had entered the room.
“Some gift,” Aspen marveled. “Nothing says ‘happy birthday’ like being reminded you almost died.” She turned her attention to Aria. “Or getting reamed out by your little sister. About damn time though,” she said to her sister-in-law, squeezing Aria’s shoulder before sitting a few cushions away from me. Aria nodded but remained quiet.
I choked on a laugh. “Maybe I didn’t really think that through. It was supposed to be a reminder of his strength, but I think I messed up.”
Aspen waved me off. “Nah. He loved it.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Reagan agreed. “He actually put it on as soon as you walked out.”
Well,I thought.That wasn’t nothing.
“I’m surprised you brought him something, though,” Aspen mused. “We always thought you hated him.”
Wincing, I said, “It’s complicated.”
“They dated,” Aria supplied, though her tone was a little flat in the aftermath of the showdown with her brothers. The three of us gasped at her. Obviously, this wasn’t news tomelike it was Aspen and Reagan, but…
“What?” Aspen asked at the same time I said, “How do you know that?”
She shrugged. “He came home from college one weekend and was an absolute wreck. I weaseled it out of him. I don’t know if y’all know this, but when I give any of my brothers this face”—she pouted, jutting her bottom lip out and widening her eyes like a sad puppy—“none of them can say no.”
“Except when it comes to moving across the country,” Aspen added unhelpfully, and Aria glared at her.
“But you were like…” I trailed off.
“Eight,” she said before I could do the math. “Had no idea about love or heartbreak—unless you count Daddy—but honestly, I think he was just happy to have someone to talk to.”
“How long were you together?” Reagan asked me.
“Most of fall semester our sophomore year.”
“And the brothers have no idea?” Aspen clarified, and I nodded. “Why?”
I explained to them how in high school, our friend groups overlapped but we didn’t really hang out together on purpose. How Lane and I had become really good friends over the course of our first year of college. How that friendship slowly shifted tomore.
