I shook my head. I definitely didn’t feel like cooking, but my brother needed to eat. I wasn’t going to let Austin leave here without him telling me what the hell happened last night.

“I have dinner plans and you need to save your money. Let’s make you something,” I suggested.

I stood up and waited for him to follow me into the kitchen. The sunlight pouring through the windows made that room at least ten degrees warmer.

“I have pasta and a few things in the fridge that are going to go bad soon. Let’s use up what I have.” I winked at him. “You should save your money for a haircut.” I pointed to his uncharacteristically long hair. I sort of loved when his hair was long, the opposite of a soldier, away from danger. Or was he?

“How did you get here, anyway?” I opened the cabinet and pulled out a pot. I knew I had pasta in my pantry and tomatoes on the counter that were nearly too ripe.

“Martin dropped me off.”

The pot slipped from my hands and fell into the sink. Water splashed up at me. “Martin?”

I turned the water off and looked at my brother. “How?”

My brother rolled his eyes and looked at me like I was making a mountain out of a molehill by asking him that. I had every reason to, especially after last night.

“I called him to say sorry for being a shitbag last night.” Austin was that way. He would put you in a crappy situation but not entirely on purpose, and he would always actually feel bad about it.

“How did you get his number?”

“Mendoza gave it to me.”

I sighed. My small circle was becoming more and more tangled.

“Are you and Mendoza close? I knew you were friends before, but have you stayed in touch?”

Austin nodded and the screen door creaked. Elodie’s voice chirped through the house, cutting the conversation off before my brother could respond.

“Karina?”

“In here!” I answered, as she came in, her face looking more tired than usual.

“I got home just in time, it’s about to pour!” She sat down at the table next to Austin and he gave her a big smile.

“We’re making dinner. You hungry?” he asked her.

I laughed, turning around to them. “Correction, I am making dinner. For Austin. Pasta with . . . well, random stuff, but it’ll be good.”

I turned the stove on to boil the water and started to dig through the fridge to see what random vegetables I had to throw into the pasta sauce. Carrots. Even though Austin was like a child when it came to food, if I chopped them up small enough he wouldn’t notice them. Hell, even if he saw me chopping them, he probably wouldn’t notice.