“She’s never brought anyone home to meet my parents.”

Because she dates women? Does he know? He must do, surely. He’s her brother. But it’s not my place to say anything. “Are your parents strict?”

“No. Not at all.”

“How many girlfriends have you introduced to them?”

Curtis counts on his fingers up to ten, then keeps counting. Jealousy flares inside me until he grins. “Only joking. Maybe three.”

“What was it like growing up with her as a sister?”

“Why all the questions?”

I shrug. “Just curious.”

He rubs his jaw, clearly reluctant to answer, and I’m struck once again by his brotherly loyalty. Forget it, I’m about to say, but before I can, he speaks.

“It was a fucking nightmare.” He smiles to lighten the words. “I may be older than her but I learned early on not to mess with her.”

“Yeah?”

“Me and a mate stole her clothes one time when we were at the local swimming pool. We must have been about seventeen. It was my mate who suggested it. I knew it was asking for trouble, but I didn’t say anything. Anyway, she had to walk back home through town in her swimsuit.”

I smile, imagining it. “So she was, what, fifteen? Yeah, that would hurt.”

“Anyway, she got me back. That’s the thing about my sister. She always gets you back.”

“What did she do?”

“Nothing obvious. But everyone at school started whispering about me behind my back. And nobody would come to the end-of-school dance with me.” He laughs. “That had never happened before.”

I laugh too, picturing handsome high school Curtis bewildered and alone in his school hall.

“It took me halfway through summer until I found out why. She’d spread the word around school that I was this S-and-M fiend.”

I laugh hard this time. “And are you?”

He raises his eyebrow.

My laughter dies and a shot of heat rushes through me, even though I’m pretty sure he’s just mucking with me.

He’s fighting a smile. “Anyway, we made a truce and she’s pretty much left me alone since then.”

Probably because it’s convenient having her big brother run around behind her, sweeping up the pieces and digging her out of all the shit she stirs up. But I don’t say that. There are clear limits about what others can say, and that’s a line I don’t want to cross.

“Hey!” Curtis waves his hand and catches Heather’s attention.

“What can I get you?” Heather seems distracted tonight and her eyes look puffy. Has she been crying?

“An Orangina and . . .” Curtis looks at me.

“Same for me.”