“Uh-huh.” He slips a key into a door marked 2104, then gestures into the space. “Welcome home, Jennie.”
My jaw unhinges, feet rooted in place. “Home? For…for me?” Cautiously, I step inside the bright space, which appears to be stunning and fully furnished if the living room is any indication. I turn to my family, and my stupid eyes well with stupid tears. I hate crying, but this is an emotional time of year for me. “This is for me? You got me my own apartment?”
“Guess some might call me the best brother in the world.”
He’s annoying and drives me up the damn wall, but Carter always has been the best brother, and my best friend. So I fling my arms around his neck and cry out, “I love you so much.”
Mom’s frowny face comes into view. “But you can stay with me if you want. If you want, Jennie, you don’t have to move. It’s not too late. Carter can back out of the lease. You can—”
Carter silences her with one giant hand over her face. “Shhh.” He loops his arm through mine. “C’mon. I’ll give you the tour.”
Carter pulls me around the apartment, showing me the sprawling master bedroom, the attached bathroom with the sparkling glass shower. There’s a second bedroom and another bathroom down the hall, much more than I need.
Not surprising, nor is him telling me he actually wanted to get me the penthouse. Carter loves to spoil his people, and he caught me looking up rentals last month. I don’t have much income, and Vancouver is expensive, so my budget was giving Criminal Minds vibes, sans hunky Derek Morgan. The face Carter made before slamming my laptop shut, grunting out a Fuck no, and walking away, was both entertaining and eye-roll inducing.
When we finish the tour, I dance my way through every room three more times because I’m so in love, and I can’t stop smiling.
“This is incredible and so, so perfect.” I spin around the living room before I crush my brother in a hug and throw myself over Olivia, who’s made the couch her home, and smooch her cheek. “Thank you, times infinity.”
“You can move in as soon as you want,” Carter tells me as we get ready to head home. “I can help you when I get back from our series next week.” He hands me a rose gold key chain with an acrylic J on it, filled with tiny flowers. “And one of the guys lives on the top floor, which is cool. I feel better about you living alone knowing he’s around. I haven’t asked him yet, but I know he’ll look out for you.”
“Great.” How like him to put me under surveillance.
He sweeps me into the hallway as the door opposite me opens. A soft giggle pierces the air, and Carter grins.
“Speak of the fucking devil. What are you doing down here? Well, I mean, I know what you were doing down here.” He pumps his brows. “Your hair’s all…and your shirt…” He shakes his head, still grinning, then points at me. “Jennie’s moving in. Told her you’d look out for her.” His expression sobers. “You have to look out for her.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” I grumble to nobody in particular, buttoning my coat before peeking to see which poor, unsuspecting soul has been tasked with the job. My fingers halt their work when my gaze settles on a pair of wide blue-green eyes, the mess of dirty blond waves ruffled on his head, the gray sweatpants hanging haphazardly and way too low off his hips.
Carter’s right: Garrett looks exceptionally like he just had sex.
And the half-dressed blonde with her fire engine red nails wrapped around his elbow looks like she just got fucked straight into the ground. I find myself feeling oddly envious.
Garrett Andersen ranks a solid Chris Hemsworth on the fuckability scale, all glowing skin, rippling muscles, turquoise eyes the color of the ocean on the brightest day, and his sweatpants do nothing to hide that he’s packing some serious heat between his legs, because why wouldn’t he be? So sue a girl for wondering what a quick roll with him might feel like. It’s been way too long, and I have a couple—okay, a fuckload—of cobwebs in the dungeon.
Shit, did I call it Disneyland earlier?
Bright red heat stains Garrett’s cheeks as he holds my stare, and I have no idea what comes over him as he rockets away from the girl at his side, practically shoving her to the ground.
“Right, well, as I was saying.” Clearing my throat, I wrap my scarf around my neck. “I don’t need to be babysat, especially by Fuckboy of the Year over here.” I loop my arm through Olivia’s and head for the elevator, throwing one last look over my shoulder. Judging by her laugh, I’d say Olivia enjoys the way Garrett’s mouth gapes as much as I do. I’m sure he wants to be my babysitter as much as I want to hear my brother call himself Big Daddy ever again.
“Jennifer Beckett,” Mom scolds, chasing after us. “That was mean! Sorry, Garrett! We love you!”
“I’ve called Carter much worse,” Olivia points out. “But Garrett’s a sweetheart.”
My nose wrinkles. “A sweetheart who was fucking my new neighbor.”
I don’t mind, but it might be a little awkward to see them together in the hallway. And what if the walls are thin? Do I want to know what he sounds like when he’s coming? Not particularly.
One of the reasons I avoided social media before Carter met Olivia, back when he was manwhore extraordinaire. No one needs to see evidence that someone else is getting laid.
“Maybe they’re dating,” I offer lamely.
“Nope.” Carter’s arm pushes between the elevator doors, making them spring back open. He shuffles inside. “Just fucking.”
I pin my arms over my chest. “I don’t need a babysitter, Carter.”
He hauls Olivia into him, pulling her scarf up until it’s damn near covering her whole face, despite her trying to swat him away. “Don’t think of Garrett as a babysitter. Think of him more like an extra set of eyes.”
“Carter!” I stomp twice. I’ve always been a bit of a drama queen. Like brother, like sister. “That’s even worse! It sounds like you’re spying on me!”
“I’m not spying!” he shouts back, arms waving. “I just wanna make sure you’re safe!”
The doors burst open, and I strut into the immaculate lobby. “You’re so annoying.”
“No, you’re annoying!”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“Oh good God.” Olivia buries her face behind her hand.
“Children,” Mom warns. “Get along.”
“You’re lucky I love you,” Carter mutters when he opens the car door for us.
“You’re lucky I don’t kick your ass.”
His face shatters with a wide grin. “Get in the damn car.”
My finger glides along the edge of the old page in front of me, the plastic that protects the pictures that have lived there for years. It’s stiff and broken, sharp on the edges, and I hiss when my finger slides too quickly over a crack. A drop of blood pools on the tip of my finger, and I suck it into my mouth to stop both the pain and the bleeding as I stare down at the handsome face smiling up at me.
He’s wearing a pink birthday hat and has a newly six-year-old me on his shoulders, clutching the soft, pale pink bunny stuffie he surprised me with.
My bedroom door creaks, and Mom pops her head in, smiling when she spots me still awake. She shuffles in but pauses at the edge of the bed, and I watch as years worth of unending love and heartache flashes across her eyes as she spies the photo album open in my lap. I wish I could fix it, but I know I can’t.
“I miss him,” I whisper, tracing the shape of my dad’s face. “So much.”
“Me, too, sweetie.” Mom sinks down beside me, pressing a lingering kiss to my hair. “I know he’s looking down on you today, crying that his baby girl isn’t a baby anymore. He’s so proud of you and the woman you’re becoming, Jennie. I know that without a doubt.”