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RONAN

I flip the channel, frowning.

Another medicare commercial? Is that the only thing on TV when you’re stuck home during the day?

With a sigh, I toss the remote back onto the coffee table, ready to throw in the towel on my plan to watch trashy TV all day. I’ve watched each episode of A Chance with Lance twice.

Now, there’s nothing on. Not even good trash.

I’m on my own today for the first time in, well, forever. Nicky is out of town, doing whatever it is she didn’t want to tell me about. And I’m trying to ignore the voice whispering that she’s probably somewhere having the time of her life while I’m sitting here, miserable and alone. Can’t say I blame her for wanting to get away. All I know is that I’m worried about her.

I may have gone too far in my text messages to her. She left the last one unread.

Fine. Be like that, Nicky.

I start my day off right, taking the time to jerk off in a long, hot shower. Then I’m getting dressed and once again wondering what my pseudo-girlfriend is doing while she’s out of town.

All that ruminating wears me out, so I spend the rest of the morning, lazing around on the couch, watching reruns of The View, eating my favorite ice cream straight out of the carton.

So, in all, it’s been a perfectly miserable day so far.

I’m supposed to be some hot shot hockey playboy who lives an exciting life. But I don’t know what happened to me. Because now, without my babysitter, my life is…boring.

Well, since Nicky is out having a good time, I decide I should be, too. I throw on my shoes and my winter hat and venture into Starlight Falls to Nolan’s bar. A little day-drinking might be fun on a Tuesday.

I arrive to a mostly empty bar and drop at the counter, so ready to have a drink and watch the game on the big screen. As soon as I order a beer from the bartender, my twin pops out from the back.

“Whoa, what are you doing here?” he asks, looking surprised to see me.

“Hello to you, too.” I’m a grumbly bear.

Nolan scans the room, brows pulled together. “Where’s Nicky? Are you here alone?”

I hold my arms outward. “Nicky took the day off. I get to be a big boy today. I even wore my big boy pants.”

Except he doesn’t laugh at my jokes.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Nolan mumbles, stepping forward and snatching up the bottle of beer that was just set on the counter in front of me. “You’re not hanging out here.”

“What?” I spit out, indignant.

“You heard me. Go home. Play some video games. Watch an action movie. Order a pizza.”

“I don’t want to go home. I’m bored,” I mope. “I just want to see my favorite brother, have a cold drink, and watch the basketball game. What’s wrong with that?”

“Sorry, man. You really can’t stay here. Darius is scarier than you are, and I'm afraid of what he’ll do if he finds out I’ve been entertaining my unchaperoned twin who’s still supposed to be in timeout.” He gives an apologetic shrug.

“Are you kidding me?” I ask, and Nolan shakes his head. “Well, can I at least finish my beer?”

He takes a swig of my drink, and then he tosses it directly into the garbage bin behind the bar.

Well, I guess that answers that. I roll my eyes.

“Come back with Nicky another time, and then you can have as many drinks as she’ll let you. Until then, scoot.” He motions toward the door, staring at me expectantly, until I drag myself to my feet.

I can’t believe this shit.

“You are not my favorite anymore. My favorite brother wouldn’t kick me out,” I say, pouting on my way out of the bar.

“I’ll be telling mom about this!” I yell out, but Nolan only gives me a wave.

Butthead .

Still sulking in the car, I decide Nolan doesn’t get to tell me what to do. Neither does Darius. I’m my own man, and just because my babysitter is off duty doesn't mean I'm going to get arrested or beat anyone up the minute I step outside my house.

Instead of going home like a lame, lonely loser, I pick another brother to go pester. Good thing I have so many to choose from.

As I drive way out into the woods, I decide that Archer is my new favorite brother.

When I pull up in his front yard, I see him talking with his neighbor, Layla. From the shy grins on their faces and their awkward body language, I almost turn my car around and go to Felix’s house.

Those two are like the weird high school kids that obviously have a crush on each other, except neither of them knows how to make a move. It’s been like that for a while now. So annoying.

Layla catches sight of my car, then she gives me a wave. Her son, Sky, waves too from where he’s sitting in his stroller. I cut my engine and Layla mumbles something about taking Sky on an afternoon walk. Then she’s gone, propelling the stroller ahead of her.

When I step up to Archer’s porch, he doesn’t turn me away or boss me around or treat me like a baby.

He just opens the door, and lays down one simple rule. “No questions about Layla,” he orders me, looking all tense and frown-y.

I don’t hesitate. “Agreed.” I have enough problems of my own to keep me preoccupied today. I don’t need to mind my brother’s business.

Satisfied with our truce, Archer lets me inside and tosses me a beer.

“Want to chop wood?” he asks after a while of sitting around and staring blankly at a wall together. Archer is not a man of many words, but it works for him.

“Let’s do it,” I say, and I follow him out to the wooded backyard before picking out an extra ax in Archer’s shed. It’s not hard to do. He has plenty of axes out there, hanging up like he’s starting a store.

Between the two of us, we make quick work of chopping firewood. Next thing I know—and I couldn’t even tell you whose idea it is—we’re putting together a large makeshift target in the yard. Then, we’re taking turns, flinging our axes at the bullseye and making a game out of it.

It’s the most fun I’ve had all day. Even if my lumberjack brother is totally kicking my ass at ax throwing.

“Woah, watch out!” he calls out after we’ve been throwing for a while.

“Wha–! Ow! Fuck!”

I grab at my shoulder, where it was just struck by the brunt end of my ax after bouncing off my target and flying back at me.

Archer frowns, walking toward me. “Shit. That got you good.”

“Yeah,” I cringe, rotating my shoulder a bit and trying to test it out. “That fucking hurts.”

“Can you move it? Is it bad?”

I shake my head. “It hurts like hell. But I think I’ll live.”

“Good thing it wasn’t your face,” Archer mutters, and then he looks longingly at our makeshift target. “I guess we’d better get inside. Darius would kill me if anything happened and you couldn’t play at your next game.”

“You’re right,” I grouse, hating how everyone pretty much sees me as just another investment in Darius’ portfolio.

And then, back to sitting around and staring blankly at a wall. Except now, I’m holding an icepack to my achy arm.

My attention jumps to the window when a car pulls up. I see Karli racing up with one of her meal kit boxes in her hands.

After a quick knock, she opens the door and lets herself inside.

“Special deliv—” Standing on the front mat, her eyes bounce from Archer to me to my ice pack. She frowns. “I would ask what the hell is going on here, but I frankly don’t have the time.” She steps in and sets the Karli’s Kitchen box on the nearest table. “Gotta go.”

“Where are you rushing off to?” I ask her.

“Honey Hill,” she says without looking back. “Westbrook family emergency.”

When she says that, I bounce off the couch. “What happened?” I ask.

“Grammy got hurt,” she tells me. “The girls are all together, taking care of her. I’m on my way to join them.”

“Shit…Grammy’s hurt? How serious is it? And Nicky. How’s Nicky?” Fuck!

I can’t describe the sense of urgency I feel in my bones.

“I don’t have much information,” Karli shoots over her shoulder.

“Wait up. I’m coming with you." Me and my trusty ice pack jog down the stairs after her.