“Don’t make me say—” He rubs both his hands over his face. “I mean, Jesus, okay? I was jealous. You guys hanging out all that time, having a blast, and neither of you saying anything to me. Leaving me out of it completely. I’m not super-human, Brody. She’s my sister and you’re my best friend.”

His eyes meet mine for the first time in this whole conversation.

A lot of stuff suddenly makes sense.

Connor was a dick because he was jealous.

He said a lot of shit he probably meant at the time.

Some of it probably was true.

Some of it probably was not.

I hear my own voice, saying back to him, I’m not that guy.

What would Rachel say to that?

I know exactly what she’d have said, if I’d given her the chance:

You’re not any kind of guy. You’re just Brody.

And here’s the thing. If I’d let her say it to me?

I might even have believed it.

37

Brody

Connor and I talk a while longer. Not about anything much. Just the kind of talk you do when you’re trying to make things normal again after they’ve gotten all fucked up. It works, most of the way. I feel like we’ll be okay someday. Probably.

After Connor leaves, I knock at the house.

Gabe comes out. He looks me over. “You look like shit.”

“It’s been a long week. Can I come in?”

He nods.

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

Gabe cocks his head. “Should I sit down?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

He goes into the other room and comes back with a bottle of Jameson. He takes a swig from the bottle, then hands it to me. I drink and hand it back to him.

He gestures to the couch and we both sit. Lucy’s nowhere in sight; I’m guessing she’s at work still.

“So what’s this thing you have to tell me?” Gabe asks.

“It’s about Justin and Zoë.”

He gives me a long level look. “Are you going to tell me he’s not yours? Because I already know.”

“How—!”

“Amanda told us. She heard it from a friend.”

“Us? Easton? Clark? Kane?”

He nods, mouth tight.

“Mom?”

“Yeah.”

“When?” I demand.

“Three months ago?” he hazards. “It was right after Lucy came back. But no one wanted to make you talk about it.”

All this time, I haven’t been protecting them. They’ve been protecting me.

Something that has been knotted up tight in my chest unwinds just a tiny bit.

“If I had known any sooner,” Gabe says, jaw tight, “I would have killed Len Dix myself that night in Oscar’s.”