4

Nine years later—present day

Marin woke up to the sound of hushed voices and the envelope of the overdue electric bill stuck to her face. She lifted her head, peeling the envelope away, and blinked in the lamplight of her bedroom, trying to get her bearings. Night still hummed along outside her window, black and quiet, and her laptop was silent beside her on the bed along with the king-sized bag of M&M’s she’d polished off in her stress-induced haze. But something had woken her up. Voices. She’d heard voices.

She cringed. Hearing voices was never a good sign in this family. Now would be a really inconvenient time for a mental breakdown. But when a thump and a muffled curse sounded down the hall, she let out a breath. Nate must be home.

Marin rubbed her eyes and checked the clock. Two in the morning. Way past curfew. He was trying to sneak in. Too bad he was such a fail at stealth mode. She shoved the pile of bills to the side of her bed, knocking a stack of research articles to the floor in the process, and sat up. Her bones popped and protested as she climbed off the bed.

Ugh. She needed to stop falling asleep in weird positions. But she’d been trying to stay awake to make sure her brother got in. Now she’d have to have a talk with him about curfew. She let out a heavy sigh. Sometimes she hated having to be the grown-up. She should be the one sneaking in at two in the morning.

She pulled a sweatshirt over her tank top and headed down the hallway. Muted light spilled from beneath Nate’s doorway, and she tapped lightly on the wood. But there was no response, just this other subtle sound. She leaned forward, straining. A raspy breath, almost a choking sound. Shit. Her heart jumped into her throat. Nathan was having an asthma attack.

“Nate.” The word came out in a panic and she shoved open the door. “Are you okay?”

But she froze one step inside the room because instead of finding her younger brother struggling for breath from asthma, she found him gasping for breath from what the guy parked between his legs was doing to him.

Nate’s eyes went wide and he grabbed at his quilt, trying to yank it up over himself and his boyfriend. “Oh my God, get out!”

“Shit. Oh, shit. Sorry.” Marin swung the door shut, her heart hammering and her face going hot. She leaned against the wall in the hallway and put her hand over her eyes, trying to erase the image. But there were some things you couldn’t unsee. Her younger brother getting a blow job—yeah, that she could’ve skipped. She wanted to scrub her eyeballs with bleach.

There was rustling behind the door, hurried voices as the boys apparently got themselves together, and Marin slipped back into her room to give them space. She’d need to address this with Nathan. He knew he wasn’t supposed to have guys in his room. But she’d give him a minute to get Henry out the door and put himself back together. Hell, she needed a minute. Maybe a week. A year might be good.

But her brother didn’t give her that long. After the front door slammed shut, Nate stormed back down the hallway and pushed her door open. It hit the wall with a bang. “What the hell, Marin?”

He looked so tall in the doorway, so adult. How was this the same kid who used to make her turn on four different night-lights in his room so he could go to sleep? At seventeen, he could pass for a grown man with those long limbs and broad shoulders—but he still had those innocent green eyes. His age showed there. And right now, those eyes were burning with annoyance.

“I thought you were having an asthma attack,” she said. “I heard—”

His face flushed to his hairline.

“Well, never mind what I heard, but I thought you needed help. I wouldn’t have been checking on you at all if you had been in by curfew and not broken the rules about bringing someone into your room,” she said, forcing righteous indignation into her voice and trying to sound like she meant it.

“Okay, I broke the rules. I’m sorry. But you can’t just walk into my room. I need privacy.”

She held up a hand. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I would’ve never walked in for any other reason.”

He blew out a breath, his eyes flicking to the piles of books and paperwork on her bed. “And you don’t need to wait up for me. I’m fine. I’m not out drinking or getting high or doing anything dangerous.”

“Just having unprotected sex in your room.”

He groaned and raked a hand over his face. “I’m not . . . We’re not. I haven’t. We were just fooling around. It wasn’t going to go beyond that. And if it did, believe me, I know to be safe. You’ve already made us get tested. And it’s not like I’m going to get him pregnant.”

She stared at him for a moment and then picked up a pillow to throw at him.

He caught it and grinned as he dropped it to the floor. “Look, I know if I contracted some horrible STD that the irony of that would literally make your head explode. I wouldn’t do that to you, Mar.”

Marin sighed. The irony would be deadly. She’d spent the last two years of her Ph.D. program and this past year in her postdoc position creating and testing a sex education program for gay youth. If her own brother didn’t know how to take care of his sexual health, she really would be a serious fail. “You wouldn’t have to worry about the STD because I would kill you.”

“I know. And I’m sorry you saw what you saw. But I wanted to celebrate tonight, so me and Henry went to a party. When it started getting kind of crazy, we bailed and came here instead. We weren’t doing anything we haven’t before. I just forgot how noisy . . . things can get.”

Marin lifted a hand. “I really don’t need to know the details. And don’t want to hear about your noises. Believe me, I heard enough.”

“Wait. Are you blushing?” He laughed. “Dude, I’m the one who got walked in on.”

“And I’m the one who had to see.”

He smirked. “Aw, Mar, how is it possible you’re such a prude? You’re like a doctor of sex, and you get all red at the thought that people are actually out there doing it. You realize how screwed up that is, right?”

“I’m not a sex doctor. I’m a researcher. And I don’t get red over people doing it. I get red at the thought of my baby brother doing it. You’re still supposed to be wearing Underoos and those caped pajamas you used to live in.”

He tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Those Superman pajamas were pretty kickass, but I’m not a kid anymore, Mar. You’re gonna have to learn to trust me at some point.”

She sighed. “I know that. Of course I know that.”

“Especially since I’m going to be living in New Orleans in the fall.”

Marin stilled, the words a record scratch to her train of thought. “What?”

His smile went wide. “See. That’s what I was celebrating. The Duplais Art College called me today. I got in.”

She blinked, the words taking a second to register. “Duplais? Are you serious? You got in?”

He nodded and rocked onto his toes, his excitement bubbling out of him. “Totally did.”

“Nate!” She hopped to her feet and went over to hug him. “They said it was next to impossible to get in there.”

He squeezed her back. “Right? But they loved that I used street art style in the portraits and that I do mixed-media stuff, said I show a lot of potential.”

Her head was whirling. “That’s amazing. I’m so freaking proud of you!”

He leaned back, his smile going goofy and lopsided, making him look like the kid she loved. “Thanks. I can’t even believe it. I’m sure I sounded like an idiot on the phone because I kept asking them to repeat themselves. It sounded too good to be true. But they said they’d send me an intro packet and email you the info about the financial package.”

She released him. “You mean the scholarship?”

He shook his head. “No, they only award four of those and I didn’t get one. But they said there’s some financial aid available.”

Marin’s stomach flipped over. She’d already looked into financial aid for Nathan. There were loans and some help, but only enough to cover a state school—and that was already going to be a stretch. The exclusive private art college in Louisiana was painfully expensive. She hadn’t worried about it too much when Nathan had said he wanted to apply there because she’d heard it was like getting into Juilliard or Harvard—near impossible. And she figured if he did manage to get in, he’d land a scholarship. But without that, there was no way. She’d been losing sleep over how she was going to pay for a state college, but now . . .

She needed to tell Nate that this wasn’t going to happen, needed to be honest about the reality. But seeing his face lit up like this—all that hope and promise—she couldn’t bear it. This was the kid who’d needed therapy since elementary school because of all he’d been through with their mother. A kid who still had scars on his body to remind him of it. A kid who’d been so depressed before he’d come out freshman year that she’d worried for his safety. And now he was here—proud, brilliantly talented, and confident. She couldn’t tell him his dream school wasn’t possible.

She’d barely been keeping them afloat with her modest postdoc pay, but they had made it work. Hell, she’d managed to keep a roof over their heads while she raised him, went to college, and worked night jobs for all those years. Maybe there was a way to figure this out, too.

She wouldn’t break the news to him until she’d looked at every possibility. Maybe she could get a raise, apply for additional grants to help supplement her salary. Maybe there were extra resources that she hadn’t tapped into when she’d gotten her own financial aid for school. She knew they were all long shots, but for now she was going to let him have his happy moment. She’d figure out the rest later.

She put her hands to his face, which required reaching up these days, and smiled. “I’m really proud of you, Nate. Seriously. No matter where you land, you’re going to bring beautiful things to this world.”

His smile went crooked. “Aw, don’t get sappy on me now.”

She lowered her hands and waved him off. “I can’t help it.”

But he gave her another quick hug. “Hey, this is good news for both of us. I know you’ve given up a lot all these years, having me here. Once I leave, you can get your life back, do your own thing. Act like a twenty-seven-year-old for a change. Maybe you can be the one sneaking guys in at two in the morning. Or girls. Whatever you’re into. Just don’t tell me about it.”

He scrunched his face up in a grossed-out expression.

She laughed. Her brother didn’t even know if she was gay or straight. That’s how pathetic her love life was. Nice. “I like guys, for the record. And you’re not out of the house yet, so rules still apply. Until that diploma’s in your hand, midnight curfew, understood? I don’t want to be up worrying.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Marin.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “And if you and Henry need alone time, and you swear you’re going to be safe about it, then he can be in your room. But not on a school night. And make sure you have your inhaler in there, so I don’t have to bust in and be traumatized again.”

Nathan’s eyebrows went up. “Yeah?”

“You’re almost eighteen, and you and Henry have been together awhile. I trust you to make smart decisions. I’d rather you both be in a safe place than hooking up in the corner at some drunken party.”

He looked down and rubbed the back of his head. Despite his earlier teasing about her prudishness, he was obviously just as uncomfortable discussing this with her. “All right. Cool.”

“And learn how to put on the radio and lock your damn door. I’m going to need therapy now.”

He snorted. “You and me both. Henry, too. He may never show his face around here again.”

“I’m sure he’ll get over it to see you and to eat my food.” She put her hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the door. “Now get some sleep. I’m glad you had great news to celebrate tonight. But your punishment for getting in late is that you’re making the weekly grocery run tomorrow and washing the car.”

He groaned. “I hate you.”

“Love you, too.”

He dragged his feet as he headed to his room, but then stopped in the doorway and turned back to her, his eyes serious. “Thanks, Mar.”

“For what?”

He gave a tight shrug. “You know why. For all of it. I’m not dumb. I know how bad things could’ve ended up if you hadn’t fought to keep me when everything happened with Mom. You kept it all together. My dream is happening because of you.”

Her ribs tightened, heavy weight descending on her chest. “Honey . . .”

“Night.” He slipped into his room and shut the door, never one to stick around when things got emotional, and left her standing there.

She stood in the hallway, tears threatening, and then slunk back in her room and fell onto the bed, the unpaid bills littered around her. She grabbed her laptop and woke up the screen. She could do this. She just needed to figure out how to make three times her salary immediately. Easy peasy.

That left winning the lottery, selling organs on the black market, and . . .

Hmm, maybe she could become a stripper. She glanced down at her faded, oversized sweatshirt, the empty bag of M&M’s, and the yoga pants she had yet to use for actual exercise. Yeah, probably not.

She was so damn screwed.