“Rob and Mandy seem sweet.”

“Oh, they’re awesome. I love ’em.” Her voice is tender, holding real emotion. “They can’t have their own kids, so they let me get away with more than I should.”

I laugh. “That sounds familiar. I’m the only girl, so my parents think I can do no wrong. I’m pretty sure they think I’m still a virgin.”

Becs snort-laughs in the dressing room. Maybe talking to a seventeen-year-old about being sneaky and having sex isn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done.

I backpedal. “Not like there’s anything wrong with being a virgin. I mean, sometimes I wish I’d waited until…” When? When did you ever wish you’d waited? I didn’t think my little speech through and now I’m stalling, trying to think of anything else I could use to finish that sentence without being a total liar.

“Oh, that ship sailed last year.” Becs fills in the silence. Well, that answers that.

“I’m going to take a wild guess—Devin doesn’t know?”

She gasps and flings open the dressing room door. “Hell no! He’d kill Garrett if he ever found out.”

She’s exaggerating, but only a tiny bit. The kid who took Becs’ virginity might not end up in the hospital, but Devin would break at least some of the smaller bones. A few fingers. Maybe an arm if the kid looked like a punk. My brothers threatened to do the same, especially Jared, the oldest and most pigheaded of the Allen clan. That’s why I’ve made sure they never had positive confirmation of anyone I’ve slept with. Even the manliest of my ex-boyfriends knows to keep his mouth shut. It’s like the sex witness protection program.

Becs steps in front of the full-length mirror, wearing the deep green top I picked out that matches her eyes. She smooths it over a bit, turning from side to side, the fabric swishing around her.

“Told you you’d look amazing.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a reluctant smile on her lips. “Okay, fine. You were right. I like it better than the pink.”

“So, this Garrett. Is he your boyfriend?”

“No. Not anymore.” A sadness settles in her eyes. Devin might not get a chance. I might kill this Garrett jerk myself.

I stand up, brush Becs’ long hair off her shoulder and rub her back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” she grits out, reminding me a bit too much of her brother. I decide to leave it alone, for now at least.

We finish shopping and I buy her the green top, and the pink one too because it’s fun to spoil my pretend little sister. After, we meet up with Elizabeth for Mexican food. I’m nursing a margarita as we chow down on nachos and chat about life and boys and everything else. Not a bad afternoon, if I do say so myself.

“What’s the plan for the next year, BB?” I ask Becs, taking a big bite out of a three-chip monstrosity piled high with all the toppings imaginable. Elizabeth and Becs stare at me like I’m disgusting. Guess that’s what growing up in a house full of boys will do. “It counts as one nacho,” I mumble through a mouth full of food, not helping my case.