He doesn’t let me. With a hand on either of my wrists, he pulls my arms away and steps back, his eyes dark. “I’ll go. You think. If we do this, it needs to be a decision, not an accident.”

I nod and watch him leave, but I stand there for a solid five minutes, considering running after him.

Carter

I drive around for a bit after leaving Teagan’s, trying to get my thoughts in order before facing my siblings and their well-intended, overly intrusive questions. I shouldn’t be disappointed by our conversation—by her caution—not when Teagan’s being the voice of reason that could very well save our friendship. But I am. I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted anything as much as I want to prove those sexy cotton panties wrong. Can’t touch this. I’m competitive at heart, and her damn underwear was issuing a challenge I was dying to win.

Before I walked in her door and saw her in those ridiculous panties, her long legs on full display and her nipples visible through her cotton shirt, I’d had myself convinced I was only there to talk her down from her panic. I’d apologize that we got carried away and maybe laugh with her over coffee to reassure us both that nothing about our friendship was broken. But my visit with Isaiah left me raw, pulled memories too close to the surface that I prefer to keep buried deep. One look at her messy morning hair and I knew the perfect cure for my aching heart.

I still want her, consequences be damned, and her kiss today could have so easily become something more. Does she want that? Would it be a mistake?

By the time I park in front of Brayden’s, I’ve had a chance to cool off and am ready to face my family. I’m a little late, so the sound of our weekly brunch chaos meets me at the door. The clatter of dishes is the musical accompaniment to my family’s laughter and conversation.

Every Sunday, the whole Jackson crew, plus or minus a few regular guests, meets at my childhood home for brunch. Brayden lives in the old house with his fiancée, Molly, and her son, Noah. He moved in years ago, when Mom relocated to Ethan’s to help take care of my niece. At the time, none of us were ready to see Mom sell the house that holds all our childhood memories . . . and all our memories of our father. Brayden held down the fort until it was clear Mom wouldn’t be able to move back in. He officially bought it from her last summer. Legally, it might be Brayden’s, but I don’t think any of us will ever stop thinking of it as our home.

I follow my nose to the kitchen and find everyone’s beaten me here. Ethan’s feeding Nic a piece of fruit, his eyes focused on her mouth in a way that makes me look away fast. Ava and Jake are cooing over their infant daughter while Lilly bickers with Noah. Molly and Brayden are at the kitchen table, looking at spreadsheets on his laptop—workaholics getting one more fix before the meal. At the counter, Ellie and Levi are pouring mimosas and laughing together over some whispered secret. Mom is handing out plates, encouraging everyone to eat up, and Shay is monitoring the coffee.