Page 7 of My Brother’s Best Friend

I cocked my head to the side. “Jordy’s visiting?”

Jordy Brooks, Levi’s little brother, was seven years younger than the two of us. I hadn’t seen him since he’d graduated high school, but I could still picture him perfectly. He’d been a growth spurt in perpetual motion. Always two inches too tall for his jeans, his knobbly wrists sticking out from the sleeves of his shirt as he waved his hands around. Constantly underfoot, trying to get Levi to hang out with him.

Jordy, eager and energetic and one-hundred-and-ten percent on at all times, was my polar opposite, but I’d always kind of liked the kid. Maybe because he was so unabashedly himself that I forgot to be self-conscious around him. Or maybe it was just hard to feel too awkward around your best friend’s kid brother.

Either way, it was nice that he was visiting. Though I doubted he’d remember me at this point. He’d left the island years ago, and I’d probably been too quiet to have left much of an impression. I’d spent a lot of my life trying to fade into the background.

“Yeah,” Levi said, snapping me out of my reverie. “He and his boyfriend broke up, and they shared an apartment, so for obvious reasons, he doesn’t want to stay there. And with the festival this week, I could use the extra help at the cafe. I’m sure he’ll go back to New York soon, but I told him he could crash with me for as long as he wanted.” Levi’s face darkened. “Actually, I might just go with him and hunt down his ex. Pay him a little visit.”

“Shit,” I said. “What did he do?”

“Cheated on him. And then had the audacity to tell Jordy he was the one who had to leave.” Levi grimaced. “I think this ex of his needs to learn what happens when you mess with my little brother.”

“I think your nieces might prefer it if you didn’t end up in jail,” Deacon said mildly. “Maybe just send a nice, menacing text message?”

“Right, because that’s threatening.” Levi glowered. “I can tell you this, the next guy who wants to date my brother is getting a stern talking-to ahead of time. One that comes with a very detailed promise of what will happen to him if he breaks Jordy’s heart. The kid’s been through enough.”

“You should set up a booth at the Founders’ Festival dance,” Deacon said with a grin. “Take applications for his next boyfriend and put them through a thorough screening process.”

“Deacon, you’re a genius.” Levi sat up straighter on the couch.

Deacon looked over at me, a silent question in his eyes. I shrugged, shifting in the squeaky patio chair. I hoped Levi wasn’t serious, but the guy could be pretty protective when it came to his family.

“You know I was kidding, right?” Deacon said. “Tell me you’re not actually going to do that.”

“Of course not,” Levi said with a dismissive wave. “Jordy shouldn’t be dating anyone for another few months at least, if not a year.” He turned to me and grinned. “You, on the other hand…”

“Oh, no.” I shook my head. “No. I’m not even going to the dance. I’ve never gone to it. Not once in all my years on Summersea.

“That’s part of your problem. I know you like peace and quiet so you can do your research, but you can’t keep acting like a hermit.”

“I’m not a hermit. I see you guys.”

“Only because I invite myself over,” Levi said. “Only because I drag Deacon along with me. You picked the most remote spot on the island. It’s like you’re hoping people won’t notice you.”

My stomach was tight with nerves. That was way too close to the truth.

“I just don’t like being the center of attention,” I said faintly.

“You don’t have to be. But you do have to be willing to talk to people, to put yourself out there, if you’re ever going to meet a woman.”

“Maybe I don’t want to meet a woman!” I jumped out of my seat—and immediately smacked my head on the cabin ceiling.

You’d think I would remember the places where the roof beams hung low. I’d built the cabin myself, after all. But I’d spent long, long years trying to forget that my body existed, and I still wasn’t great at proprioception.

I couldn’t just sit there and listen to Levi talk, though. Every second we stayed on the subject, my stomach tied itself in more convoluted knots. I grabbed my beer, drained it in one gulp, and walked to the kitchen to get another one.

“Why not?” Levi pressed. He didn’t rise from his seat, but his voice carried through the cabin as I peered into the refrigerator, willing my breathing to slow.

“Because it’s not my thing,” I called back. “You know I hate crowds. And strangers. You were just saying I’d avoid a hospital if I were dying, and you’re probably right. What makes you think I’d want to go to a dance, a room full of strangers, when it’s not a life or death situation?”

“I’ll be there,” Levi said. “So will Deacon. We can be your wingmen.”

“Hey, don’t drag me into this,” Deacon objected. “I’m not pressuring anyone into anything.”

“I’m not pressuring,” Levi said. “I’m suggesting. Nudging. Cajoling, at most.”

“You can cajole all you want,” I called over my shoulder, “but it’s not going to help. I’d just get flustered and not be able to talk to anyone.”