Page 84 of By All Accounts
“They’re getting married in the fall,” I said, trying not to choke on the words. “September.”
“Is that…like the expiration date?” Lincoln asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“But it’ll change things, you think?”
“Of course it will.”
“Why?” Lincoln pressed.
Hunter swirled ice in his water with his straw, gaze shifting lazily from Lincoln to me and back to Lincoln again.
“Why wouldn’t it?”
“Do you think all change is bad?” he asked.
I thought about walking away from Neil and Annette for the last time, thought of painting over that horrible pink in my office, thought of how it felt every time a new brother emerged out of thin air. “Not always.”
“Why this, then?”
“Because if there’s one thing Finn loves, it’s a worst-case scenario,” Hunter said.
“If there’s one thing I love, it’s them,” I snapped.
There. I’d said it. It was finally out in the open.
Hunter sighed. “Like I said.”
“Hey now!” Lincoln reached across the table and smacked the outside of Hunter’s arm, and I watched my brother’s shoulder draw back, witnessed the power dynamic between the two of them flip in an instant.
Well. Wasn’t that interesting.
“Why is love a worst-case scenario?” Lincoln asked me, judging Hunter until he appropriately cowered.
“It’s unpredictable.” I held up one finger, ready to count off the reasons. “It’s volatile.”
“Same thing,” Hunter interrupted.
I dropped my first finger, angling the middle one toward him. He reached over the table and grabbed it before I could pull away, twisting until I cursed him and begged for mercy. He let go of me, smile smug as he fixed himself back into place, and the power had shifted back to him.
“It’s scary,” Lincoln added, and I nodded my agreement. “You think they won’t want you after they get married.”
“I don’t even know why they want me now.”
“You’re handsome, Finn,” Lincoln told me, rolling his eyes like it should have been obvious. “And you’re smart. You’re funny. You’re very kind.”
“I didn’t know we were so well acquainted.”
“All four of you… hell, the five of you are much more alike than you realize.”
I didn’t have an argument for that, but it was nice to think I had parts of my brothers in me. That somehow we’d gotten more than rot from our father.
“There might be six of us,” Hunter said.
Lincoln’s eyebrows raised toward his hairline.
“We’re not sure,” I explained. “Andrew found him on an app and he looks identical to Marshall, but we’re just guessing at this point. Nobody has reached out to him.”
