Changing the subject, I ask, “Have you FaceTimed Alice?”
That’s the girl he’s been seeing. Even though the relationship had been fresh, it’s another thing snatched away from him.
“Nah. I broke it off a couple of days ago.” He shrugs. “With us moving, there didn’t seem to be much point. I’m not really into the whole long-distance thing.”
“Oh, I thought you liked her.”
His expression turns sly. “What I liked is how much she put out.”
I roll my eyes in disgust. “You’re kind of a pig, you know that, right?”
“The ladies don’t seem to mind one bit.” His lips curve. It’s the first genuine smile I’ve seen out of him since Grandma Rose died and blew our lives to shit.
“Ugh.” I rise from the bed and walk toward the door. “On that note, I’m out of here.”
Austin’s attitude toward the female sex doesn’t surprise me. The girls at our old school used to pant after him like they were in heat. I’m sure it’ll be the same for him here. They seem to find him charming and handsome.
The handsome part I get. He’s a good-looking dude with inky-colored hair and mossy green-colored eyes.
Charming, on the other hand?
Definitely not. He can be moody as fuck.
I pause over the threshold. “Sure you don’t want to come with me? Maybe getting out of the house would do you some good.”
“Nah.” He scooches up to a sitting position before draping his arms across his bent knees. “Hey, Summer?”
“Yeah?”
A crooked smile pulls at the corners of his lips. “Thanks.”
“For what?” I blink in surprise as the tough facade he usually puts on dissolves, leaving a rare vulnerability in its place.
His gaze darts away as if he’s embarrassed. “For being your usual upbeat self.”
I flash him a grin. “Don’t worry, bro, I got you.”
With a shake of his head, he laughs before stretching out on the bed again. “Whatever you say.”
As I close the door, he yells, “Pick me up a few notebooks and pencils.”
“Will do,” I respond before walking through the airy hallway. My footsteps echo off the cavernous walls as I jog down the sweeping staircase to the first floor. As the entryway comes into view, I’m once again bowled over by the opulence that surrounds me.
One thing is for sure—we have definitely moved up in the world.
Once in the foyer, I turn to the left where the dark wood panel study is located. Hundreds of leather-bound books line the shelves. Situated across from them is an oversized fireplace with an elaborately carved mantle. A thick Persian rug in muted red and gold tones covers a portion of the wood plank floor. An antique mahogany desk with curved legs sits in the middle of the room as the last rays of sunlight pour in through the arched window that overlooks the rolling front lawn. My parents are seated on two high-back chairs in front of the window. Their heads are bowed together as they talk quietly. As soon as I step into the room, their attention snaps to me.
I skid to a halt, almost feeling like I’ve interrupted a private conversation.
“Hey, honey,” Dad says, clearing his throat. “Settling in all right?”
“Yup.” I shuffle further into the room. “Do you mind if I borrow the car? I want to run into town and pick up a few supplies for tomorrow.”
A smile bows Mom’s lips as her face lights up. “What a fantastic idea!”
Well, I wouldn’t go that far.
“I just want to be prepared,” I say with an easy shrug.
They’re acting weird. But then again, the last two months have been surreal, so I can’t blame them for being a little off-kilter. We all are. Hopefully, once we’ve had a chance to make ourselves at home, everything will get back to normal.
“We can always count on you to take everything in stride,” Dad says, gratitude bleeding through his words.
Even though it’s meant to be a compliment, I stiffen as a prick of irritation blooms inside me. It feels like a pointed comment made toward my brother. The retort tumbles from my mouth before I can stop it. “I don’t think you realize how difficult this move has been for Austin.”
We might be twins, but I’m five minutes older and have always been more like the big sister. Not that he necessarily needs me to fight his battles but jumping to his defense isn’t an impulse that can be easily shaken off. I’ve been doing it since we were kids.
“We understand that, honey,” Mom sighs, familiar with my protectiveness where Austin is concerned. “Your dad is simply trying to express his appreciation that you’re always willing to go with the flow. It wasn’t meant to be a criticism toward your brother.”
I jerk my head into a tight nod as Dad fishes around in his pants pocket before tossing me the keys. I snatch the jangling metal mid-air with one hand.