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Paris? And
you’re leaving her here?” Sawyer set the half-full beer bottle down on the
countertop. He crossed his arms and leant back. “ Nobody told me that. No
wonder Saffie’s pissed…I’d probably be, too. That’s pretty low.”

 
    I raised an eyebrow at him.

 
    He did the same. But with the motion, he lifted the corner of his mouth
into that trademark smirk of his. My brother had a private weapon: the Panty Dropper , he and his friends called
it. According to them, it was the half-grin that landed him half his high
school one-night-stands…of which there were many… I remembered every single
one.

 
    He used to tease me with it sometimes. It had made living with my cocky
asshole of a stepbrother uncomfortable in ways that it really shouldn’t have.

 
    “Now, don’t you get in on this
too,” Mom chided him. “Saffron has a point, you know. Your father and I have
been worried sick about you for years . None of us have seen you since
you turned eighteen.”

 
    Sawyer opened his mouth, but swallowed his words. After a moment, he was
swallowing his beer again, too.

 
    “Now, if it’s any consolation,”
Mom went on, turning to me, “I did try to talk your father out of it. I knew it
would upset you, honey, and that’s the last thing I want to do…”

 
    “Well, great way of showing it,” I grumbled. “Picking my dream for your
anniversary vacation, forcing me out of the house, then making me stay all
summer with the ‘Brother of the Year’ World Champion, Five Years Running…”

 
    “That’s enough,” I heard a thick, oaky voice command.

 
    We all recognized it immediately.

 
    Chet.

 
    My stepfather was standing in the doorway to the side, his thick arms
crossed. Dressed in casual comfort and a hoodie, he was just as imposing man as
the day I’d met him – at several inches over six feet. Freshly shaven, he
had kept the thick, bushy moustache that he’d grown since Sawyer left –
which accented the firm irritation on his face.

 
    “ Both of you,” Chet continued.
“After all this time, I manage to get the two of you in the same room again,
and it’s back to bickering as usual…”

 
    The room went quiet, and even my mother hesitated, turning from Sawyer
to me. She looked like she wanted to say something. Before she could, my
stepfather immediately strolled into the kitchen with a large grin on his face.
His arms wrapped around Sawyer in a bear hug, peeling him from his relaxed lean
against the counter.

 
    His words were quiet, almost choked.

 
    “Welcome home, son.”

 
    My stepbrother stiffened instantly, but gradually relaxed into the
embrace. Within seconds, they were hugging each other long long-lost family,
which…technically, they qualified a little.

 
    “It’s great to have you back,” our father continued, pulling free to
hold Sawyer at arm’s length. They studied each other’s eyes, face, and build
for a moment. “Healthy and all! Strong ,
too!” My stepdad squeezed Sawyer’s arm. “You must be in incredible shape…”

 
    “Yeah, well,” Sawyer remarked with a slight grin, “let’s just say I’ve
been taking care of myself. You’re not looking too bad yourself, old man.”

 
    He chuckled in response. “Well, I’ve been trying to hit the gym when I
can find the spare time…”

 
    They pulled away from each other, and while Chet grabbed another beer
from the fridge, the years were clearly sliding off of them. My mother had
stepped over, standing close to me, and we watched the two of them making up
for lost time.

 
    I had to admit…as furious as I was at Sawyer, it was endearing to see
him reunited with his father after all this time. I still needed to find out
the real story – why Sawyer left in the first place – but for now…I
could stand to watch them defrost in each other’s presence.

 
    While they started swapping small talk and vague life updates, I found
my thoughts drifting towards