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And I noticed something weird.

"Cee?"

"Yes?"

Turning to look at her again, I caught sight of her eyes. Her serpentine smile told me she was already onto exactly what I was thinking. "What's the rope for?"

A grin the size of Texas broke across her face. "Well. Since I've never done it before, and I have a bit of a handicap, I thought you wouldn't mind pulling me along."

“Like a sled dog, Ceci?" I asked.

She barked out a laugh. "Well, youaremy number one companion."

"And you thought it was a good idea to get drunk before we do this?" I asked, remembering the shots.

"I’m not drunk, speak for yourself, Ferguson," she said. "Plus, tequila makes everything better."

Wrong.Shemade everything better. Case in point, the clarity I had been searching for in the waves was suddenly coming in Ceci’s eyes. I knew she was right. I knew I would have to tell my family to “fuck off” in not so many words sooner rather than later. But I also knew that until I was ready to do that, I had someone else who (if I asked) wouldn't hesitate to do it for me.

And when I didn't ask, she would show up with alcohol and activities to take my mind off of it.

Sun setting and casting the world in a glow that did nothing but set the girl in front of me on fire, I looked up to see Ceci, my best friend, my person, holding her good hand out to me and saying, “C’mon. If you do a good job, I’ll give you a turn too.”

Snorting, I grabbed her offered hand and let her think she was helping me to my feet. Physically, at least. Because the ways she lifted me had little to do with the size of her arms and more to do with that of her heart.

The thing was huge.

Chapter Six

CECI

Try.

That’s what Connor said to do. So here I was at seven-thirty in the morning trying to knock on my brother’s door. I was feeling uncharacteristically apprehensive about the whole idea, but on Connor’s recommendation, this was the only way I was going to begin figuring out what I wanted. Or at the very least what I didn’t.

So I banged on the door.

My brother Mateo was the second oldest in the family, but you would never think so just by looking at him. He had this boyish mischievousness about him that made him seem almost as young as me. His black hair was just slightly overgrown, curling up over his ears. His dark eyes almost always held a smile in them. And his pink mouth was wide, looking as if it was permanently drawn into a smirk. He wore loose-fitting clothes that didn’t portray the typical look of a businessman, and he had a tendency to laugh when things wereandweren’t funny, always finding the humor in everything.

It probably would have been smarter to go to my other brother, Ox, for help first. He was the oldest and somewhat of the family manager. But I didn’t quite feel like experiencing the stern perfection of our first brother. Plus, he oversaw the family company which meant he’d just set me up in the very place I was trying to avoid. So here I was at Mateo’s doorstep. And leave it to me to be the only person to make him look apprehensive in, like, the history of ever.

“Mattí, your sister just came to see you.Look happier,” I grumbled.

“I noticed. And I’m skeptical,” he said, but stepped aside to let me into his large apartment, glancing down at his watch as I passed. “Isn’t it a little early for you, Ceci?”

I glanced around too.

Mattí and Lis lived in the same building, so their layouts were almost identical. Gray wooden floors, white kitchen, multiple bedrooms, and large floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. But walking into their homes you would think they were in totally different buildings just by the way they decorated them. While Mateo had a propensity for large street art pieces and leaned more into color with his decorating, Lis’s place looked like it was copy-and-pasted out of a magazine. One that was named“Taupe”and took their theme way too seriously.

The latter is who I was on the lookout for now.

“Is Melissa home?” I whispered as I entered his kitchen and went straight for his fridge. He always kept iced cold brew in there and every time I came over I got the craving for some.

“I dunno,” he said, coming in after me and plucking the stolen coffee straight out of my hands. When I tried to grab it back from him he fended me off and went over to the cabinet to pull down a glass. “We don’t, like, wave each other goodbye every morning you know?”

“Oh,” I said watching as he put ice into a cup and poured creamer and the cold brew over it before handing it back to me with a straw. I smiled and drank happily as he returned all the ingredients back to their spots in the kitchen.

When he turned back to me, there was a split second where he resembled Ox or even our father. His eyes skating up and down my person, cataloging every detail for irregularities or something out of place. But just as quickly as he found nothing was wrong, he replaced that look with a playful one, his eyes narrowing dramatically with skepticism.