“Anyway, having a difficult preteen the size of an adult wasn’t a big selling point. I scared most of her boyfriends off, intentionally or not. Rick wasn’t the worst of them by a long shot—he’s decent to my mom, at least. But he didn’t want kids, especially ones that weren’t his. So he stuck around, but he made the rules. Which were basically, don’t be a pain in the ass and stay out of the way.”

What looked like sadness mixed with a hint of anger flashed across Bailey’s face. This was why I didn’t get into things like this, though with her, it was tolerable.

“And you still don’t get along?” she asked, tilting her head.

“I have a trust from my dad’s insurance. Once I turned eighteen and gained access, I moved out, and things improved a little. We can sort of coexist now. He and Sera still butt heads a lot, though.”

“What’s your sister like?” Bailey looked at me playfully. “Is she trouble like you?”

“A bit of a party girl, which is probably why she’s at ASU, but she’s a sweetheart. You’ll like her.”

“I’m sure I will.” She grabbed a chicken wing and took a bite, recoiling and setting it back down on her plate. “Holy crap. These aren’t medium. They’re more like extra-hot.”

“I can send them back if you need, princess.”

“Princess?” She narrowed her eyes. “I can handle them just fine.”

“That’s true. You’re good at handling things.”

“Oh my god, you”—she laughed, shaking her head—“never a missed innuendo.”

“Now you know more than you ever wanted about my fucked-up family tree,” I said. “What about your family? All I know is that your brother hates me.” I bit into the barbecue pork slider, watching her reaction.

Bailey waved me off. “I wouldn’t say he hates you…”

“Yeah.” My lips quirked. “He definitely does.”

Until recently, I would have said I wasn’t a fan of his, either. But if it came down to it, I could get past it for her.

“My parents are your typical middle-class suburbanites. They’ll be married for thirty years next spring. And I have two older brothers besides Derek.”

“Oh good,” I said cheerfully. “Then they can all gang up on me when I meet them.”

“No, they aren’t like that.” Bailey picked up a blue corn tortilla chip and dipped it in the spinach-artichoke dip. “They aren’t into hockey, so Derek’s dumb grudge won’t hold water. And Derek will come around—eventually.” Her lips folded into a frown. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him, actually. We used to be close.” She bit into her chip, expression clouding over.

“Maybe he’s going through something with that whole Jillian mess. But it doesn’t excuse him for being a crappy brother. Not to overstep.”