“Told you.”
I open the car door, and just before I slide behind the wheel, I jab a finger at him over the roof.
“You better not start liking my little brother more than me.”
“?‘Little’? He’s taller than both of us.”
“You’re such a dumbass! He’s seventeen.” I roll my eyes. “Come on, they’re all waiting for us.”
A shadow flits over his face, and he sighs as he climbs into the car.
“Ready to meet the Hogans?” I chirp.
I start the car, and he shoots me a heavy look, so I blow him a kiss.
The first few miles fly by in silence. Lane is tense, I can tell—his breathing shallow.What a scaredy-cat!Luckily, Jeff is feeling chatty, and it doesn’t take him long to smooth out any edges. As we drive, the guys talk bands. I had already noticed that we liked the same stuff, but Jeff moves in for a deep dive, and as I glance at him in the rearview mirror, I realize he’s falling in love with my friend and his taste in music.
“Lois actually brought someone cool home, for once!” he bursts out, and I nearly crash the car.
“Why?” Lane swivels around to face me. “Does she bring guys home often?”
I shoot my brother a dirty look. “Only Kirk!”
“Yeah, but he was lame enough to put us off for life—such a pain in the ass.”
“Jeffrey Hogan, I’m warning you.” He knows what happens when I use his full name. “Today’s a special day,” I add in the sweetest voice I can muster. “I plan on living my best life with the people I love, so don’t go dragging me down with—”
“That pathetic loser?” Lane cuts in.
Jeff slaps our backrests, laughing. “This guy cansohave my room!”
“Mom got Grandpa’s room ready for him.” I beam.
“Oh yeah, I forgot. Sorry, dude—maybe next time.”
Lane is glancing from me to Jeff and back again, and I can’t wait. I plan on getting sweet, sweet revenge for how he tried to bail on Christmas.
“Home sweet home!”
I pull up outside the house, slam the car door, and stroll over to the porch, turning back only to realize Lane hasn’t budged from his seat.
“Come on, Laney!”
He raises a middle finger and holds it up to the window, just as Jeff pushes past me and goes bounding into the living room.
“Guys, we made it!”
I leave my brother to it and head over to the car to coax out my prey.
“Come on, O’Neill. Out.”
He unbuckles his seat belt with a groan. “After everything I’ve done for you.”
“Exactly. This is my way of saying thank you.”
He freezes and slowly turns to face me. I can tell he’s surprised I didn’t use my usual teasing tone this time—but it’s because I mean it.
“It’s going to be great. I promise. My parents are amazing—you’ll feel right at home. And tomorrow, we can hit the beach,” I add. “The water should be about seventy.”
