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Carter doesn’t look like he’s anywhere near his mid-twenties. He might actually be in his thirties already.

“I’m not over the thirty line like you are,” is his only answer, but this time he speaks with the right edge of his mouth tipped up. Is he amused? This time it doesn’t feel like an attack, just like... a fact.

“Please come to dinner?” London asks him again, pulling my attention to where it needs to be once more, and reminding me of my mom’s offer.

“We’ll stop by Macy’s where you can get CJ’s present.

” I have no clue who she’s talking about, but once more I feel my body start to relax at how easy her tone is.

She’s not in danger , I tell myself. She’s fine , and I remember what she told me.

She already trusts Carter.

London might be a lot of things, a goofball, a romantic in her teenage-way, and stubborn, but she’s never been gullible.

With the life she’s led, with the experiences we’ve had, she doesn’t trust easily, and I need to remind myself that I trust her.

“Let’s go,” I mutter, and grab the cart and London’s hand at the same time. “If we’re going to go shopping and make it home in time for dinner we have to hurry.”

With my earbuds firmly back in place and sitting on my armchair in my parents’ living room, I lean my head back and let the sounds wash away all the tension of the last couple of hours .

London and Carter spent less than ten minutes at Macy’s thankfully, and from there it was only a short, five-minute drive to the address Carter gave Paco.

We dropped him off there with strict instructions from London for him to get his ass to this place as soon as possible.

I was beyond intrigued when I saw him unlock the front door of one of the big brownstones on Park Avenue. One of the few left there since most of the street is now lined by big hotels and huge apartment buildings.

Who is Carter Din?

It’s impossible to know without asking London or doing a quick search online.

Both of those options are a no-go right now.

It might’ve taken me years, but I know now that showing interest in anything will pique my family’s interest in the wrong way—a very annoying way.

They expect certain things from me because I like structure and routine, so whenever I do something outside of that, it draws them in like moths to a flame.

I don’t feel like suffering an interrogation at the moment, so I do what I always do before family dinner.

I pour myself two fingers of whiskey and put on my earbuds to unwind the way I do every day.

It’s the only time I drink alcohol, and the only liquor I like, and it’s the perfect way to start de-stressing from whatever the day brought.

But then I hear shouting over the noise cancellation which means someone is really shouting .

“Larson, keep it down,” I hear Mom shout over everyone else.

My brother looks toward me immediately and winces. “Sorry, Liam,” he mutters.

“What’s going on?” I ask them.

“I was just telling them about Carter,” London explains, sending a vicious look toward Larson and Logan. “And they started squealing like little girls at Disneyland.”

“What else did you expect?” Logan demands, though in a normal voice now.

He’s the oldest of them at twenty-one, so a bit more normal—at least in my opinion—than Larson, who at seventeen needs to shout everything, and more often than not sings instead of talking like a sane human being.

“Yeah, Lon,” Larson tells our sister, calling her by that ridiculous shortened version of her name. “You tell us you met Adam Darnell’s best friend and expect us to be chill about it?”

“Adam Darnell?” I ask, standing as I put my earbuds back in their case. “Isn’t he a football player?” Carter didn’t look like an athlete. I mean... I guess he could be, but definitely not a football player.

“Yes, the quarterback of?—”

“I know who Adam Darnell is.” I interrupt Larson.

“But you didn’t scream like that when Wolf told us he’s in love with Darnell’s best friend— wait, is Carter the man Wolf told us about last year?

” I ask, directing the question at Mom that time.

Wolf is part of the country-rock band The Storm, and he and his little brother, Hawk, have known our parents all their lives, as have I though I’ve never spent much time with them .

Last year, Wolf was living here in the city and he came over quite a few times. He gave Larson a few guitar lessons since he doesn’t want to learn from Dad—idiot—and even made an appearance on Dad’s new podcast.

I like Wolf well enough, but the few times I’ve talked to him I’ve had trouble understanding his intentions. He’s very gruff and hard to read for a normal person—at least that’s what Mom always says—so for me it’s three times as hard.

Is Carter involved with Wolf?

But Wolf doesn’t live in the city anymore. He said he’d moved back to LA to be with this man he loved so much, and Carter has a house here...

The big rush of relief that floods my chest is confusing as hell.

“No,” Mom answers me without looking away from the oven, where she’s admiring the roast she made today. “Wolf’s boyfriend is CJ—he’s Adam’s childhood best friend. Carter met him in college from what London tells us,” she calls out.

“Yeah, CJ’s the guy Carter bought the gift for,” London says, getting right to the thick of it. “But Carter told me he’s also friends with him from college, and ,” she exclaims, sounding even more excited now. “He’s also a friend of Rupert Cardew.” She makes a weird noise and her eyes go glassy.

Ah, I think that means infatuation .

Not having interacted with a lot of teenage girls in my life, I’m learning most of their mannerisms as London grows, so I can never be too sure.

“Who’s that?” Logan asks, thankfully, because I also don’t know, and I’m not quite sure it’s appropriate to ask .

“He’s the heir to a lordship in the UK. I saw him all over the news while I was there. He’s so dreamy,” she says with a sigh and Larson suddenly gags. It takes me a few seconds to realize he’s faking, and I relax.

“So no one important,” Logan summarizes.

London ignores him and keeps looking at a random spot on the wall with her eyes clearly unfocused.

“All right, you two go put on some respectable clothes,” Mom tells Logan and Larson, waving a kitchen cloth at them.

“And you finish setting the table, then go drag your father away from his office. And you get back to your drink so you’re calmer when Carter gets here.

” That last bit is directed at me, and I follow her instructions as I shove in my earbuds again, though I am frowning.

I think I’ve been pretty calm. Why does she think I’m not?

My fingers stretch when I’m once again in my armchair, music in my ears and taking a sip from the tumbler.

Mom does know me better than anyone, sometimes even myself.

I’m only a few steps behind Mom when she opens the door to a smiling Carter and I see he’s holding a big bouquet of lilies.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m Carter.”

“Oh, aren’t you sweet,” she coos at him. “Please call me Sam. You didn’t have to bring anything,” she protests.

“Bringing flowers is the least I can do to thank you for inviting me over,” he says and extends his arm to offer them to her.

I can see Mom’s instantly charmed by him as she takes the flowers, and for some reason that makes me want to pout—I resist, though.

Then I hear thundering steps and London’s excited, “Carter,” before she’s pushing me slightly to the side and wrapping her arms around him.

One of the things I struggle with the most is interpreting people’s—strangers’—facial expressions and emotions, but when Carter hugs my sister back, I see a calm kind of smile, and that has to be good, right?

I wish I didn’t feel the need to ask Mom if my conclusion is correct, but that’s a lifelong habit I haven’t been able to break.

“Hello there.” Now it’s Dad’s voice coming from behind me, and I turn just in time to see his eyes widen on Carter.

I’m pretty sure that means Dad recognizes him.

How? “You must be Carter,” Dad says and steps around me.

“Were you at Harrison’s son’s wedding two years ago, or am I mistaking you for someone else?

” he asks when London steps back, and then offers him a hand to shake.

“I was, sir.”

“Yeah,” Dad says softly and nods, then lets Carter’s hand go. “And you were pissed out of your mind by the time we left.” He looks back at Mom with his worried frown.

Oh, he means drunk. That isn’t too weird at a wedding, is it?

“Yes, uh,” Carter says, and clears his throat, looking down at his feet, then he looks back up at Dad with his eyes now a bit narrowed, like there’s tension there .

That could mean a number of things, but I think in this context it means he’s nervous, right?

“There were a number of years that weren’t the best for me.” His words don’t make a lot of sense to me, or why he’s saying it, but then he starts to talk really fast. “I still hadn’t gone to therapy then, to work through the guilt I felt over my parents’ deaths.”

There are a lot of things about social nuances I don’t understand, and by a lot I mean most, but right now, with the sudden and complete silence in the foyer of our family home, with Carter still standing in the hallway, I have no issues understanding that everyone is uncomfortable.

It’s because of how personal what Carter just said is, I’m pretty sure.

There’s another long moment of silence, then Mom’s moving quickly. She puts the flowers semi-carefully on the entrance table and then goes right in for a hug.

Carter’s eyes go wide for a moment, and then he hugs her back. The second he closes his eyes I hear my brothers’ footsteps behind me.

“What’s happening?” I hear Larson whisper, and that’s another trigger for Mom to start moving quickly again. She steps back and grabs her flowers.

“Come on now, use your manners. Say hi to Carter, then it’s time for dinner.” She walks away and won’t raise her gaze from the flowers, and I don’t know why.

Dad, on the other hand, turns to look at me for a second, and I see he’s smiling naturally now—I know his real one—and turns back to Carter.

“Please come in,” he says, and waves a hand in my direction. I move away, going straight to the kitchen to help Mom take the roast out of the oven, but I still hear them talking. “So what were you doing in England?” Dad asks him.

“I was just taking care of a few things,” Carter says, this time I recognize that he’s being vague.

“Well, I’m glad you were,” Dad keeps the conversation going, not sounding bothered at all. “I want to thank you for helping London.”

“Of course,” Carter says, seriously now, just as I turn around with the heavy platter and walk it carefully to the kitchen table.

Once I’ve set it down and nothing was spilled, I look up to see Carter once again smiling softly at London.

“I’m glad I was too,” he murmurs, then his whole torso expands with a big breath and he looks at Dad again.

“I went to sell my parents’ home and finally settle their estate. ”

Dad’s reaction is very confusing; he drops his head until his chin is almost touching his chest. But then another inexplicable reaction comes from Carter. He... bursts out laughing and pats my father’s shoulder in a very friendly way. I know that’s friendly.

“You can’t help but bring the mood down,” Mom tells Dad in a soft voice, and when I look, I see her love for him in her eyes.

“Not to worry,” Carter tells them both. “Really, I’m a lot better these days.”

“Why don’t you tell us about your parents?” Mom asks softly, then she pulls out her chair and I go to sit too.

With all this confusion, I’m starving, and since we have someone here who I’m not used to, I just know the confusion won’t go away any time soon. My brain is in for a busy night.