Page 55 of The Best I Never Had

Everyone breaks out in cheers and laughter as Gabriel balks. “That’s not fair!”

She shrugs. “Then get someone else to touch them before we leave.”

He drops them down the back of Lynne’s dress, who wiggles and shakes until the keys clang to the floor.

“Lynne has to drive,” Gabriel calls out to the room. “She touched them last.”

“Nope,” Thea calls out, loud enough to reach the entire lobby. “Gotta be hands. Get creative, Gabe.”

He swipes the keys up from the ground as half our cousins dig out their phones to text anyone not here so Gabriel can’t trick them when they arrive.

“Owen, catch,” Gabriel yells as he sends the keys back our way.

My hands lift on instinct, like my body can’t stop itself from being helpful. Thea spins in front of me, and instead of catching the keys, my hands land on her hips. Her lips part on a gasp I’m desperate to swallow as the keys hit her back and fall to the floor with a satisfying thud. I look down at her, and god, we’re so close. It’d take nothing for me to close the distance.

She narrows her eyes at me. “Don’t you fucking dare touch those keys.”

My lips twitch. “Sorry. Habit.”

“Well, break it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I whisper.

Her dark eyes dilate in response, and everything inside me goes taut. Her body radiates heat, and I swear the noise in the room fades, leaving nothing but the two of us. Someone coughs, and I realize the noise did fade because everyone’s stopped talking and is now openly staring at the two of us. Thea’s eyes jump straight to Addy, who’s watching us with wide-eyed terror.

I yank myself away, kicking the keys back across the lobby to Gabriel. “Sorry, Gabriel. Gotta work harder than that!”

Cousins left and right start throwing out jabs at Gabriel, and Thea wanders away with Camila and Addy without so much as a glance back to me. Which is good. Distance and all that. Jourdan claps me on the back and passes over her flask while Tommy eyes me.

“Why didn’t you tell us you don’t like driving?” he asks.

“Why did you assume I liked driving?” I volley back, keeping my tone light.

“Because you volunteered whenever we were talking about it,” he says, and I think he may be right. That while everyone else fought over who had to drive, I’d offer, take on the helpful role I’d gotten so comfortable in at home. “We’re your family. You can tell us shit, you know?”

My stomach bottoms out, and I can’t help but flick my eyes over to Thea. I’ve been so dishonest with everyone. Not just about my history with her, but about what I want and how I feel about my place in the family. I don’t regret lying about Thea. I don’t think I could regret anything that brought Thea into my life, but I do wish I’d been better with my cousins. More honest about what I want. I think I’ve gotten so used to what I want not mattering that I assumed they’d act the same way, and that’s not fair to them.

“You’re right,” I say.

Tommy’s brows pull together, like he was anticipating more of a fight, but then he claps his hands. “Great. Then let’s get you drunk, little cousin.”

“Get your own booze,” Jourdan says, clutching the flask to her when Tommy reaches for it again.

Tommy dives on his baby sister, wrestling it away from her and tossing it over to me. While he holds Jourdan back, I chug the contents, then throw it back to her. She lifts it over her mouth, whining when only a couple of drops come out.

I throw an arm over her shoulder, already feeling the effects of the rum. “I’ll buy you a beer when we get there.”

We all spend the next fifteen minutes with our hands in our pockets, calling out a warning about Thea’s game to anyone who joins the party until Gabriel admits defeat and trudges off to pull around the bus.

I feel guilty about Jourdan’s flask, so I run over to the inn’s restaurant to have it filled up. By the time I get back, they’re all loaded up and waiting for me. The second I step on the bus, everyone stretches out in their seats. I make my way down the aisle, hearing excuse after excuse for why I can’t sit with my cousins.

“No, I can’t share,” Jourdan says when I pass over the flask and gesture to the seat next to her. “I sprained my ankle while wrestling with Tommy and need to keep it elevated.”

I didn’t see her get hurt, but fine.

“Sorry,” Lynne says a few seats back. “My bag’s giant and I need a place to put it.”

When I reach Camila near the back of the bus, she’s sitting across the aisle from her wife instead of with her. She rolls her eyes. “Of course I can’t share. I’m sitting for two. I need the space while I’m growing a literal human.”