Paige passed out a few minutes ago, and I catch Nate over Cass’s shoulder, pulling the extra blanket from the box Mom sent, and tucking it under his arm.

“Dude, what are you doing?” I ask, but I already know. Nate looks at the pile of blonde hair and wrinkled silk on his bed, then at the neatly folded quilt in his arms before answering.

“Some shit just ain’t worth it, bro,” he says, grabbing my watch off the side table, which makes my stomach tense. “Gonna need the Tag tonight; have to set the alarm so I don’t miss workouts. I’ll drop it off before I leave.”

“Whatever,” I say, pretending it isn’t a big deal. I’m full of shit, though, and Nate knows it. Kelly gave me that watch, and I never go a day without it on my body.

“Yeah, I’ll still bring it back though,” he smirks, then fastens it to his wrist and quietly tiptoes out the door.

I let my eyes settle back on Cass, and she’s looking at me with what I can only describe as wonder, and it’s making me really fucking uncomfortable. Lying on my back, I flop one arm over my eyes. “Dude, you can’t look at me like that. It’s like…an invasion of privacy or something,” I say, sliding my arm down enough to see that she’s still there. Still staring.

“Stop it!” I tease, pulling the pillow from the corner of my bed and shoving it at her. When I open my eyes the second time, she’s hugging the pillow close to her body, and her stare has only grown more intense, and full of…fuck…I don’t know…fondness? “What already?”

“You love your brother,” she says. Not a question; just a statement of fact. All I do is nod yes in return, and I’m no longer embarrassed by her attention. She’s right, and I’m glad it shows. When she scoots a little closer to me, I feel my muscles tighten on instinct, and everything in me freezes. It feels like minutes pass, but I know it’s only seconds ticking by before I feel the tickle of her hair along my arm and the warm touch of her hand sliding flat over my chest until she’s completely cradled against me. I need to know what I did to deserve this moment. I need to know so that way as soon as the sun comes up, I can go do it again.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it on the outside, but Paige loves me like that too,” Cass says, her voice a whisper. I’m sure she doesn’t want to wake her sister up, but I saw the amount of shots she put down. I’m fairly confident we could invite a mariachi in to perform, and Paige would sleep straight through.

“You and Paige…are you close?” I ask, my arms still flat against the bed, though I slowly start to let my fingers relax into a curl. At this rate, I may finally get to put my arm around her by sunrise.

“We are. Sort of,” she says, stifling a chuckle. “We’re different. I know, I know—that’s pretty obvious. But we still always have each other’s backs. When Paige wanted to win homecoming queen, I campaigned for her. And when I wanted to come to McConnell, Paige stood up to my parents for me and told them they needed to loosen their grip. That’s really the only reason she’s here, you know. She came to McConnell so they’d have to let me come with her.”

“That’s kind of crappy,” I say, defensive against Cass’s parents, whom I’ve never met, and realize mid-sentence could honestly be lovely people. “I mean…why would they let Paige go away, but not you?”

Cass pauses at my question. She doesn’t even open her mouth to answer for a long time, instead reaching over to touch a loose string on my blanket—her eyes intensely staring at the string while she thinks. When she finally does speak, I can tell part of what she says is a lie. “Paige was always planning on staying in California, and my parents wanted us to both be near home. Empty-nest syndrome or something like that, I guess. But she’s better at standing up to them. She fought them so I could go,” she says, keeping her gaze locked on my chest and that damn thread. I play a lot of poker, and I know that if what she just said were really no big deal, I’d be looking into her eyes.

Lying is usually a deal-breaker for me. That’s one thing I don’t do. Do I omit the truth? Yeah, I do that all the time. But I don’t lie. But for some reason, I’m compelled to give her this one. I’m breaking the rules, my rules…for her.

“So honestly, when do I get to kiss you again?” She laughs at my harsh left turn in our conversation. I love the way she laughs. There’s this rasping sound that comes from deep inside her, showing it’s genuine, and her smile creases deeply into her cheeks.