Page 82 of Hearts on the Line

“You saw each other five years ago?”

They continue bickering, ignoring me. My hand is a fist now. I wish I could say I’m a better man, but I want to throw a punch at my brother.

“I love you, Sloaney, but I had to explore my options.”

She narrows her eyes, giving him a playful pat before nudging him aside. “You explore plenty of options, from what I hear.”

“You’re keeping tabs on me? How cute. You’re not my type though.”

I snap the old wooden spoon in my hand. “Fuck,” I mumble.

Sloane and Jack both gawk at me.

“Old spoon,” I say lamely before tossing the remnants into the trash. “You have a type?”

Tony turns up the Rolling Stones on the speaker, waving his spatula too close to my face for comfort. “Enough with the fucking racket. Kiss already or leave.”

Sloane and Jack both look at each other and burst into laughter. But I’m with Tony here. I mean, I don’t want them to kiss. I just want this weird banter to stop. I feel like I’m a third wheel, back in high school all over again.

There were nights after hockey practice when we’d all pile into the car—my brother Nolan, Sloane, her brother, and Jack—cracking inside jokes and talking shit about kids at school. I miss how easy it all felt, before possibility tangled up with responsibility. Before I felt like I owed myself to everyone.

I liked the nights when Sloane and I were in the back seat best. Everyone was loud enough for the both of us. Her hand would press against mine, and our eyes would meet, and I fell a little more in love with her each mile we drove.

“Tony, I love Sloane, but she’s basically like a sister to me.”

“You have a sister,” I mutter.

Tony squirts more butter on top of the flattop. It sizzles in the air, and even though I breathe it all the time, it turns my stomach.

Or maybe it’s just the curious look on Sloane’s face as she’s studying me. I go back to making up lobster rolls.

The way I just kissed her should make it clear that I don’t feel the same.

“Do you need a hug, Ethan?” Jack spins around, arms outstretched before I clothesline him.

“I’m going to fucking quit if you boys keep it up,” Tony barks. “Need to concentrate.”

Jack sputters. “Hands off. I’m supposed to be resting in the off-season. My body is a temple.”

“Your body is a public service announcement,” Sloane quips.

Jack plants a kiss on the top of her head. “I missed you, Sloaney. Haven’t changed a bit.”

Her face falls a sliver.

She grabs the lobster roll basket I just made up and peeks at me.

I can’t help myself. I wink at her.

Red blooms on her cheeks before she spins away and rushes into the dining room.

The kitchen falls into an easy rhythm for the last half of the day. Sloane and Jack banter all afternoon, and Tony and I grumble, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss this—being stuck in the middle of these two again.

We’re closing up the kitchen hours later while Sloane wipes down tables out front when Jack rests against the back wall, watching me.

“When are we going to talk about it?”

I snap a towel over my shoulder. “Talk about what?”