“You know I’m always here for you, right?”
I nodded against his chest and then pulled back to look at him.
He winked. “Give me a smile.”
I gave him a shaky, fake one, and his hand came up and cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking over my wet skin.
“You looked real pretty yesterday in that dress, Six.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I almost forgot to breathe when I saw you.”
The fake smile became a real one.
And then he tipped my chin up and pressed his lips to mine, giving me my first kiss.
A vehicle pulled into the lot, and we both turned, realizing simultaneously that it was Remy.
We stepped apart, and Sully dropped his arms, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Remy’s door slammed, and he strode into the garage.
“Where’d you go?” Sully asked.
“Get in the house, Maggie,” Remy snapped.
My eyes shifted between them, and I was terrified they’d start a fight.
“Sully?” I whispered.
“Go on,” he replied, lifting his chin toward the door. “It’s fine.”
But I knew that was a lie. It wasn’t fine. I fled, my cheeks rosy with embarrassment at my brother catching me kissing his best friend.
But Remy wasn’t staring at me; he was staring daggers at Sully.
For weeks they barely spoke, and Sully rarely came around until one night after dinner, Derek and I were in the garage. I was there mostly to pester him while he worked, tired of being alone in the house.
Sully’s truck barreled into the lot and skidded to a stop. When he jumped out and stalked inside, his eye was swollen, and his mouth was bleeding.
“Where is he?” he snapped.
Derek stood from the overturned bucket he’d been sitting on, draining the oil from a motorcycle. “Who? Remy?”
“Yes, fucking Remy. Where is he?”
“I don’t know. He’s been gone for hours. What’s wrong?”
“He went too fucking far this time.”
“What did he do?” Derek frowned, wiping his hands on a rag.
Sully’s eyes cut to mine. “She shouldn’t hear this.”
Derek jerked his head toward the house. “Give us a minute, Mag.”
“I want to hear. He’s my brother, too.”
