Page 22 of Sing For Me

“You okay, man?” Silas asks, peering up at me.Worried.

Great job, Will. Freak the kid out because you’re too fucked up to put on a happy face for ten minutes. Get your shit together.

I wrap an arm around his neck, pulling him into my chest so I can administer a noogie.

“Let go,” he complains, pushing against me.

I laugh, releasing him but managing to get in a decent cheek pinch. “I can’t help it, kid. You’re just so cute.”

He hits my hand away and scowls at me. “Jerk. I don’t know why I even asked you to come over.”

I grab him again, this time kissing the top of his head, obnoxious on purpose. Maybe if I can just tease him like I always do and act like everything is normal, it will start to feel that way in my head.

“You invited me over because you love me so much. I’m your favorite brother. Duh.”

He snorts and I’m relieved to see the way his eyes are twinkling with amusement, back to normal, no more worry. “Hate to break it to you, Will, but Wyatt is definitely my favorite brother.”

I smack a hand over my heart. “You’re killing me, kid.”

Silas is grinning now. “You could always try to buy my love. I have my eye on this sweet vintage Camero.”

“You know, I’m actually fine with being your second favorite after all.”

We’re nearly to the porch when the heavy oak front door swings open, revealing a gangly girl in a Wonder Woman t-shirt and a rainbow colored knit beanie. “Will!” she squeals, flying through the doorway and jumping from the top step of the porch into my arms.

I grunt, the force of her attack making me step back even as I wrap my arms around her.

“How’s my favorite sibling?” I ask her, winking at Silas. He rolls his eyes and pushes past us into the house.

“I didn’t know you were coming!” CeCe lifts her head to beam at me, showing off her braces and a killer set of dimples, and my heart clenches. God, I love this kid.

“Figured I should check in.” I set her down on the top step. “Make sure you’re not getting into too much trouble.”

She smirks at me. “I’ve been getting into just the right amount of trouble.”

I throw my head back and laugh. Something in my chest is easing, like I’m not just going through the motions anymore. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

I follow Silas and CeCe into the house. “Are the parents here?”

“Just Mom,” Silas calls over his shoulder. “She’s in her office, making calls. Dad is down at Uncle Reed’s.”

“Shocking, right?” CeCe deadpans. The kid’s always had a sassy mouth.

Before we even reach the kitchen, I can hear a jumble of voices. “How many of the Littles are here?” I ask.

CeCe stops in her tracks, hands going to her hips as she glares at me. “Don’tcall us that. How many times have I told you? Our squad name is the Fierce Five.”

“The Freaky Five,” Silas mutters, earning a smack from CeCe. But since our little sister weighs about ninety pounds soaking wet, I’m gonna bet he’s not feeling much pain.

We walk into the kitchen and I can see that my guess was correct. Violet, Ash, and Vega—three of the five Littles—are sitting around the kitchen table, a game of Risk spread out in front of them.

“Hey, Will,” Violet and Ash call in that somewhat unsettling unison only twins seem to achieve.

“Hello, small children,” I say, pulling on Vega’s dark ponytail as I pass on my way to the fridge.

“Grab me a beer,” Silas calls.

“Hilarious.” I grab an armful of sodas and set them on the table to a chorus of thanks from the kids before taking one for myself. I join Silas at the counter, hopping up on the granite top and swinging my legs. “How are we all doing?”