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A knock at the door interrupted my pity party. Gentler than Cade’s authoritative rap, more hesitant.

“Go away,” I called, not bothering to lift my head from the pillow. “I’m busy cultivating despair.”

“It’s just me.” Drew’s voice came through the door. “I come bearing illegal contraband.”

I sighed, sitting up and dislodging my menagerie of pets. “Fine. Enter at your own risk. But if you make one fox joke, I’m using your favorite hoodie as a chew toy.”

The door opened, and Drew appeared with a paper bag that smelled suspiciously like the chocolate croissants from the bakery in town that Elena considered an abomination against pastry.

“Don’t tell Elena I smuggled these in,” he said, kicking the door shut behind him. “She’ll have my head mounted next to that creepy elk in the dining room.”

“Your sacrifice will be remembered in the revolution,” I deadpanned, making grabby hands at the bag. “Give me carbs or give me death.”

Drew tossed the bag onto the bed and flopped down beside me, nearly squashing Pixel who gave him a look of pure feline contempt before relocating to the windowsill. “So… still rocking the fuzzy accessories, I see. Very kawaii.”

“I warned you about fox jokes,” I growled, though my treacherous tail swished with amusement. “And don’t use Japanese words unless you want me to correct your atrocious pronunciation again.”

“Sorry, Mr. I-Took-Two-Semesters-Of-Japanese,” Drew rolled his eyes, reaching for a croissant. “Excuse me for trying to connect with your cultural heritage.”

“My ‘cultural heritage’ is currently manifesting as unwanted body parts, so maybe let’s not celebrate it too hard,” I muttered, biting into the buttery pastry with unnecessary aggression.“God, these are good. Elena would commit murder if she knew we were eating Petit Patisserie instead of her creations.”

“Hence the ‘contraband’ warning.” Drew nodded sagely. “I risked death by wooden spoon for you. Remember that when you’re dividing your estate.”

“You’ll get all my worldly possessions—both paintbrushes and my extensive collection of ramen packets,” I promised solemnly.

Drew stretched out, careful not to disturb Pixel. “So… about last night.”

I tensed, not wanting to revisit the humiliation of watching my newly revealed mates flirting with others right in front of me. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You mean you don’t want to talk about how you disappeared from your own party to research art schools across the country?” Drew asked, his tone gentle rather than accusatory.

My head snapped up. “How did you?—”

“Your laptop was still open when I checked on you this morning.” He held up his hands defensively. “I wasn’t snooping, I swear. Just making sure you hadn’t suffocated yourself with Keir’s jacket.”

Heat flooded my cheeks at the reminder.

“I’m just looking at options,” I said, trying to sound casual. “It’s not like I’ve made any decisions.”

“Chicago’s pretty far,” Drew observed. “So is New York. And Boston.”

“They have good art programs,” I defended.

“They do,” he agreed easily. “They’re also about as far from Washington as you can get without swimming.”

I couldn’t meet his eyes. “I need space. After yesterday… I can’t stay here and watch them with other people. It would kill me.”

Drew’s expression softened. “I get it. I do. But running across the country isn’t the only option. There are great art schools closer to home.”

“Closer to home means closer to them,” I pointed out. “And I need… distance.”

“Whatever you decide, you know I’ve got your back, right?” Drew said, his usual teasing tone giving way to sincerity. “Even if it means helping you move across the country and dealing with Cade’s inevitable meltdown.”

The sincerity in his voice made my throat tight. “Thanks. And if he tries to lock me in the tower, you’ll bring me files in birthday cakes, right?”

“Obviously. What are brothers for?”

The word ‘brothers’ hit differently now, making my ears flatten against my head. Drew noticed immediately and winced.