Page 2

“What about you, Sam?” Harper asked. “Big Lowe family Christmas?”

I kept my smile bright and easy. “You know it. My mom goes all out—matching pajamas, way too much food, the whole nine yards.”

The lie slipped out smooth as silk. I’d gotten good at that over the years. And it wasn’t entirely a lie. My mom did used to go all out. Or at least she had the last time I’d spent Christmas with them. But I spent most holidays with my aunt in San Diego. I hadn’t been back to Seattle since I was seventeen.

Not since…

I cut the thought off immediately.

“Sounds nice,” Harper said, her smile telling me she believed every little lie I’d told her. Guilt wormed its way through my stomach. I hated lying to them.

But I hated the idea of how they might look at me if they knew the truth more.

The sensation of being watched pulled my attention to my right, where Harry sat next to me. He’d been quiet all evening, which wasn’t unusual for him, but I caught him watching me with those steady gray eyes. Like he could see right through the performance to whatever was underneath.

I looked away first.

“What about you, Gordy?” Abby asked. “Heading to Connecticut?”

He gave a small nod. “That’s the plan.”

Something flickered across his face—there and gone—but I recognized it. It was the same tightness I felt in my own chest whenever someone mentioned going home. Like the word itself was a trap.

Before I could wonder anymore about it, a knock echoed through the house.

“Expecting anyone?” Foster asked.

A chorus of nos answered him.

“Who even knocks?” Liam asked. “All of our friends know they can just walk right in.”

“I’ll get it,” I said, pushing back from the table. “Maybe it’s a delivery guy. You guys order anything?”

Honestly I was grateful for the excuse to step away. The holiday talk had stirred up things I’d rather keep buried, and a few seconds alone in the hallway sounded like exactly what I needed.

The walk to the front door took maybe ten seconds, but something shifted in my chest with each step. A heaviness I couldn’t explain. The kind of gut feeling you got right before everything went sideways.

I shook it off. I was being dramatic. It was probably a delivery, or a neighbor, or⁠—

I opened the door.

And my whole world tilted.

“Surprise, Sammy.”

My oldest brother, Jordan, stood on the porch, immaculate in a charcoal coat that probably cost more than my semester’s tuition. His blond hair was perfectly styled, his smile wide but forced. He was the golden boy of the Lowe family, but instead of being the prep school boy I remembered, he looked like he’d stepped right out of a board meeting and onto my doorstep.

What the hell was he doing here?

“Jordan.” My voice came out strangled. “What… How did you⁠—”

There were so many questions fighting for first place that they all got tangled together.

“I was passing through on my way back from New York.” He said it casually, like Montana was a minor detour and not a thousand miles out of the way. “Thought it made sense for us to catch a flight home together.”

There was no way. We hadn’t seen each other in five years. Why would he all of a sudden take a detour to Montana and escort me to Seattle when he had to know I had no intentions of going back there?

I couldn’t.