Page 64 of Too Sweet
Cody’s face pales. “You kissed my girl?”
“She’snotyour girl.”
“Calm down.” Theo pats his shoulder, handing him a shot glass, and proceeds to fill all five. “He felt adequately bad before Colt told us you’re not into Mia. Give him a break.”
Cody downs his shot before we grab ours. “Hurt her, and I’ll make you bleed, bro.”
“You should bleed. All three of you should. We’re brothers. Wetalk. You should’ve told me you don’t want me around Mia instead of playing stupid games.”
The four of them scoff in sync.
“Sure, we talk, but be real. You kissed her thinking Cody wants her,” Theo says. “You’d get your dick wet and flee like always.”
He might be right. If Mia was available right off the bat, I wouldn’t have stopped to get to know her.
“She likes you,” Cody says, sounding like he can’t comprehend why. “And I know you care, which is why I won’t tell you to stay away from her, but you better think your next move throughverycarefully.”
“Time to stop thinking every woman’s like Kaya,” Theo adds. “Mia’s seems like a pleasant change. I like her. I approve this match.” He laughs, pouring another round.
Colt rakes his hand through his dark brown hair, forcing it back. “Mia’s a great girl. Out of control at times, but lovely. She keeps us in check, and we keep her safe.”
“I know she’s nothing like Kaya. I also know she’s ten years younger and way out of my league.”
“That won’t stop you,” Conor mumbles, his mouth stuffed with grapes since that’s the only thing left on the table. “Itshouldn’tstop you, bro. You’re already way over your head. Now that you know you’re in the clear, don’t fuck it up.”
Two bottles of vodka later, we stumble out the building. It’s close to four in the morning, and we’re all trashed as we get into a cab. I can’t remember when I was this drunk.
I also can’t remember when I talked to my brothers like this. We’ve been chasing our lives lately, forgetting to take time for ourselves.
Sure, we go out drinking every couple of months, but we’ve not had a heart-to-heart in ages. Theo spent half an hour gushing about his blissful life with Thalia and how excited he is about becoming a dad, and the triplets told us about their after-graduation plans.
Cody had his career path figured out years ago. He wants to work forStone and OakwithLogan, but in a more hands-on way: leading the construction teams. Conor’s diving deeper into becoming a production sound mixer, and Colt’s all about business management.
When they were younger, I thought they’d choose the path of least resistance and open a business together, delegating tasks among themselves, but despite being identical on the outside, they’re completely different inside.
∞
Mia
Summer holidays before middle school
“No wonder nobody likes you, Mia. Look at yourself!” my mother huffs, shoving me in front of a mirror, touching my hair like it’s rotten and disgusting. “You’re ugly. God, why do you wear glasses?!”
She takes them off, and my vision blurs too much to move around the house unassisted.
“I can’t see,” I say, twirling the hem of my sweater. “I need them.”
“Nonsense. You need laser eye surgery. Why do you think kids call youfour eyes? Because you’ve got four eyes, Mia. Those glasses are thicker than the bottom of those Nutella jars you stuff yourself with.”
I pretend I don’t hear her. I pretend the insults don’t hurt. After all, I should be used to this by now. I’ve been bullied, ridiculed, and harassed by kids at school for five years, but coming from Mom, it hurts more.
She wasn’t around when I cried for two years because everyone called meCootie Mia. She wasn’t around when Grandad chopped my hair off after Blair stuck three sticks of gum in it. She didn’t see my bruised knees and scraped elbows whenever kids tripped or shoved me to the ground.
She left Dad when I was four and moved to London. Today marks the first time I’ve seen her in person since. We only spoke a handful of times. She was never interested in me. She’s only proud of her first-born.
Aisha’s her mirror image: pretty, popular, a cheerleader with a line of boys waiting to fall at her feet.
I’ve always been Daddy’s girl. He’s not been around for much of this either, traveling the world for work, but at least he knows. He calls and talks to me. Never calls me ugly.
