Corin

---

Everyone raised their hands, which was a relief.

Aerie’s eyes cut to mine and then away as she lowered her hand. “When you say weird and mixed up, can you elaborate?”

I hesitated to answer, unsure how much honesty I was prepared to bring to this.

Tate elbowed me. “Just answer, Cor.”

Canaan nodded. “For real. You’re the one who’s always got something to say, so if anyone can make sense of this, it’s you.”

Aerie toyed with a lock of her bright blonde hair, eyeing me again. “Can I put this out here, first? I think if we’re going to talk about this and get anywhere, then we need to agree that we’re all going to be one hundred percent honest about how we feel, and that this is a circle of trust. Meaning we’re not going to judge each other, and we’re not going to let petty jealousy or weirdness get in the way.”

We all verbally agreed to this, and then all eyes were on me.

“So let’s be clear about what exactly happened, first. We got drunk, we played strip poker, and then we ended up in the lake. I think it all started with strip poker, though. There was this feeling, for me at least, that it was…open season for staring at each other. Like just now, back in the cabin. Like, we don’t need to be embarrassed or weird about the fact that we were all naked.” I hesitated, formulating my thoughts. “The part that’s tricky for me, here, is that we’ve sort of paired off, right? But opposite to how things were in high school. Back then; it was me and Aerie, and Cane and Tate. Now we’ve switched. Tate and I are sort of…” I met her eyes, pausing, searching her for a sign that I should shut up, and found none. “We’re sort of exploring a thing, I guess. There’s just the little fact of the business in the lake that’s got me trippin’.”

“Why does it have you tripping, Cor?” Aerie asked.

I let out a breath. “Because…shit, this is tricky. We agreed to total honesty, so here goes.” I glanced at Tate, and then turned my attention to Aerie. “When we started splashing, I lost track of who was who. So when we first started wrestling, I thought you were Tate. But…after a second or two, I realized I wasn’t wrestling with Tate. I knew it was you, Aerie. I was drunk, though, so let’s keep that in mind—”

“You don’t have to justify anything, Corin,” Tate said, touching my elbow, pulling my attention to her for a moment. “We were all there, we all did the same thing. So…no excuses, no bullshit, no trying to justify. Okay?”

I groaned in frustration, running my hand through my hair; it was still down, which tended to drive me crazy after a while. “Okay, fine. I was drunk, but that just loosened my inhibitions. I knew what I was doing. I knew it was Aerie, and I…I kept going with it.”

“I knew it was you, too,” Aerie said, her voice quiet.

“It was…weird, though,” I said. “Because in some ways, it was hot, right? Like, I’m not gonna gloss over that. It was. But it was also hot at least in part because it was you, instead of Tate. Because even then, I still felt this…pull, I guess, to Tate. Which made you and me fooling around the way were…not…not wrong, per se, just…” I shrugged, unsure of what I was trying to say. “I dunno.”

Canaan’s eyes were on Tate. “I know what you’re saying. I don’t think that’d have happened if I was sober, but I still knew what I was doing. And I knew you were also totally aware,” he said this to Tate, “so it was…consensual all around, on all our parts.”

Tate nodded. “Yeah, it was. Which is what makes it so weird.” She looked at Canaan, and then at me, and then turned her gaze to her coffee while she spoke. “Because I’m…the honest truth is that I’m attracted to both of you. Like, a lot. I just mean in a physical, chemical sort of way. Like Corin said, I’m not gonna gloss over the fact that last night, messing around with Canaan…it was fun. I liked it. I enjoyed it. I knew it was him and not Corin, but I still went with it. In the moment, at least.”

I’m not going to lie, here, and say I didn’t feel a bit of a sting at her words. But then, I’m sure she felt a sting, too, at mine.

“Is it an equal amount of attraction?” I asked. “I’m not fishing here, I’m just honestly curious.”

Tate shook her head. “No. Well…I mean, physically yeah. You’re twins, so…duh, you’re both gorgeous and I can’t help looking at Canaan and being like, damn, boy, you’re fine. But there’s more to you and me,” she nudged me with her knee, “than just physical attraction. Or there is for me, at least.”

“Same for me, in this direction,” Canaan said. “You girls are sexy as hell, and I’m not gonna be like, no, I don’t feel any attraction to Tate. Obviously I do. But there’s just something…else…with me and Aerie. What it is, I don’t know.”

“So, what does this mean for us going forward? Like, as a group?” I asked.

Tate shrugged. “Are we cool with what happened last night?” she asked.

Aerie twisted a lock of hair around her finger. “I mean, yeah? It’s a weird situation. And things are also still very new all around. We just got reconnected, and now there’s a new element to everything, and things have always been a little weird and intense and indefinable for the four of us.”

“Again, just to be totally clear…” I looked at each person in turn. “There’s nothing on the table between us about any kind of an open thing, right? Like, what happened last night happened, and we’re all more or less cool with it, but we’re not going to be going for a repeat?”

Aerie glanced at me. “Sounds about right.”

Tate sighed. “I think we have to be honest with ourselves, though.” She finished her coffee, and set the mug on the deck between her legs. “If we get drunk together, there’s a distinct possibility of a repeat.”

Canaan nodded. “I think you’re right.” He glanced at me, and then Tate.

“But we’re not talking about entertaining the idea of a foursome, or establishing a four-way open relationship?” I pressed. “I just want everything to be on the table, here.”

“I think last night was as close to that as I want to go,” Aerie said. “If a repeat happens, I don’t think any one of us is going to, like, pop a jealousy casket, but no, I’m not interested in a foursome or anything open.”

“Same here. We were drunk, and there’s underlying…what was it you called it yesterday?” she asked me.

“Multi-directional sexual attraction,” I supplied.

“Right, that.” She pointed at her twin. “Like she said, if we get drunk and there’s more messing around, I think we’ll all understand where it’s coming from, and that it’s just part of the weird thing we have.”

Canaan nodded, but I could tell he was chewing on something.

I wiggled an index finger at him. “Out with it, bub. You’re thinkin’ a deep think.”

He nodded, gesturing at the circle of us. “Where’s everyone’s jealousy-meters at? Honestly?”

Aerie eyed him. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. “Just out of curiosity. Like after last night, and this talk, and being naked this morning…we’re sort of at a place where we can probably just be cool with each other.”

Tate twirled her finger around the rim of her mug. “I see what you’re saying. Like, at this point, I wouldn’t really think much of stripping in front of you, or skinny-dipping again. I wouldn’t necessarily feel comfortable just making out with you, but I’m not going to go out of my way to avoid you either.”

Aerie tossed back the rest of her coffee. “But the other thing we should all remember is that this is all really new. And subject to change.” She glanced at me. “I mean, I feel the same way as everyone else about messing around last night, about the weird multi-directional attraction we all obviously feel. But if Canaan and I become…I don’t know, I don’t want to jinx it, but…if we develop into something real, I’m not promising my jealousy-meter won’t go up. So we have to constantly reassess things, I guess is what I’m saying.”

“That’s rational enough,” I said.

“Wow, thanks, Corin.” Aerie laughed acerbically. “Glad I’m capable of rationality.”

I frowned at her, since that wasn’t the first time she’d snapped at me this morning. “Dude, what gives, A? You’re being kinda salty with me this morning.”

Tate eyed her sister. “You kinda are, hon.”

Aerie sighed, standing up and pacing to the end of the dock, and then back, but she didn’t sit back down, instead she stood to one side, facing the water instead of any of us. “I don’t know. This whole thing is weird and I’m just out of sorts, I guess. Like, I’m irritated at Corin for the fact that I’m as attracted to him as I am. Like, I just want it to be simple, you know? It’s not his fault he’s identical to Canaan, and I get that, and I’m sorry I’m being a bitch. But like, I just want to able to have this thing with Canaan without a bunch of drama. And getting all hot and bothered every time Corin is around is just…irritating. Because I’m not just attracted to Canaan—I like him, like him, at the risk of sounding like a middle schooler. I want this with him. It makes sense. It’s easy. It’s fun. It’s crazy hot.” She shrugged, pausing, and then blew out an irritated raspberry. “Fuck it, here’s some honesty for you: when you guys walked in on us this morning, I heard the door open, and I knew it was you guys. I knew you knew what I was doing, that I was going down on Canaan. But I didn’t stop. You know why? Because in the back of my head, I wanted Corin to know. Because, in the back of my head…I kind of want to…I want him. In a different way than I feel about Canaan. More…on a base level, I guess. Not, like, emotionally. Which is stupid.”

“What are you saying, A?” Tate asked.

“That I’m curious, I guess. And I don’t want to be, but I am.”

“Curious about what?” Tate pressed.

Aerie finally turned around. “Everything!” She stared at me, hard. “So, I’m being salty at you because I’m irritated at you for being so damn sexy, when I just want something simple with your brother. I’m irritated, because you walked in on me blowing your brother, and when I knew you were watching, part of me half wished it was you I was blowing. Which makes me feel weird, and dirty, and slutty, and stupid.”

I stood up abruptly and paced away. “Jesus, A. Way to complicate things even more.”

“Well I’m fucking sorry, Cor. It’s not like I wanted it to be this way.”

I laughed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a dick.” I sat back down, and gestured to the empty spot in the circle vacated by Aerie. “Sit down for a second, will you?” She did, and I addressed Tate. “Do you feel anything like what she’s talking about?”

Tate stared at the dock. “A little, yeah. A few thoughts of that nature have crossed my mind, thus my overall confusion with this situation.”

I glanced at my brother. “Cane?”

He nodded. “Yep. Curiosity is the right word. I wouldn’t call it anything, like, crazy overwhelming or intense, nothing that I can’t push away if circumstances shift into committed monogamy or whatever. But…yeah, there’s curiosity.”

“Me too,” I said. “So…shit. This is fucking ridiculous.”

Tate laughed. “Yeah, it really is. Trust the four of us to get ourselves into a situation like this.”

I glanced at everyone in turn, starting with Canaan, then to Aerie, and then to Tate. “My thinking is this. We have to be careful about getting drunk together. If this curiosity is a thing for all of us, but we’re all in agreement we’re not comfortable openly exploring it, then we’re at a sort of impasse. But if we get drunk together, we’ll forget that, and shit will happen. So, if we don’t want that to happen, we have to be careful.”

“I agree,” Tate said. “Because if we get drunk and go too far, we could open a box of worms none of us are probably prepared to deal with.”

“Meaning, if we cross too many lines, things could get messy,” Canaan said.

Aerie’s eyes were still on me. “Right. Super messy. And we don’t need that. I don’t know about you guys, but Tate and I moved back to Ketchikan to simplify our lives, not complicate them.”

A silence stretched out. Eventually Canaan tapped his mug on the dock. “So. Now what?”

“We clean up the cabin, head back to town, and eat a shitload of food,” Tate answered.

“Agreed,” Canaan and I said.

---

Canaan and I were scheduled to work that night, and the girls said they needed to unpack, so after a long, lazy, late breakfast at a greasy spoon place, we parted ways, dropping the girls off at their grandparents’, and Canaan and I headed back home. We showered and headed to Badd’s for our shifts on the floor waiting tables which took us to the next day. Cane and I didn’t discuss things any more that night, and I think we both mutually understood we needed time to process everything.

The girls said they were spending the day with their grandparents, leaving us to hang out with our brothers.

We ended up at Zane’s place, playing with little Jax. Mara made some killer pasta, we drained some whiskey with Zane and played the latest installment Call of Duty on his giant flat screen, tickled Jax and laughed at his hearty little chuckle. Eventually, Mara announced Jax needed to eat and take a nap, so she disappeared with him into their bedroom, leaving Zane alone with us.

And that’s when he pounced. “Where’d you boys disappear to the other day?”

Canaan shrugged, focusing on the game. “Out.”

I laughed. “Yeah…” I made my voice all gruff, mocking Canaan. “Out.”

Zane reached out with one hand and whacked Canaan upside the back of his head, and then me. “Don’t be petulant fucktards.” He paused the game and poured a measure of whiskey into all three of our glasses. “So I heard Aerie and Tate Kingsley are in town.”

“They are,” I confirmed.

Zane leaned back on the couch, eyeing us. “And?”

“And we’re…hanging out,” Canaan said.

“Hanging out.” Zane nodded, sipping. “I always did wonder why you guys never dated. But I figured it would get too complicated.”

“That was pretty much it. And then they moved.” I shrugged, hoping to leave it at that.

“But now they’re back. For how long?” Zane was watching us carefully, his gaze sharp.

“Um, more or less indefinitely. Until they figure out what they want to do next.” I sipped whiskey and hoped Canaan would take over.

“And you guys are…hanging out?” Zane quirked an eyebrow, lacing the last two words with heavy insinuation.

Canaan hissed, a feline sound of irritation. “What’s with the twenty questions, Zane?”

“Oooh, touchy.” Zane just laughed. “Somethin’ is going on, huh?”

“Yeah, and it’s complicated. So back off and let us figure it out on our own,” Canaan said.

“Hey, I’m your big brother. It’s my job to pester you about this shit.”

I chuckled. “Well…consider us pestered. Now fuck off about it, huh?”

Zane lifted both hands. “Fine, fine. But if you need big brother advice, come to me. I’m your best bet.”

“I dunno,” I teased. “Bast was the first to snag a woman.”

Zane chortled. “I think Dru snagged him as much as he did her. That woman is scary. Word to the wise: do not fuck with her.”

Canaan chuckled. “Yeah, I heard she laid you on your ass, Mr. Big Tough Navy SEAL.”

Zane didn’t even deny it. “Legit, she did. I’m tellin’ you, Dru is a badass.” He tossed his Xbox controller onto the couch beside himself. “I need to crash. That little monkey of mine doesn’t like to sleep at night, apparently, and I’m on midnight bottle feeding duty.”

“All right,” I said, standing up. “Come on, Cane, let’s let Papa get his beauty sleep.”

Zane snorted as he showed us to the door. “Yeah, yeah, tease me now, boys. When you two assholes have kids of your own, you won’t be laughing.”

I made a cross with my fingers, hissing like a TV vampire. “Don’t jinx me, you dick!”

He jerked a thumb toward their bedroom. “Hey, you think that little monster was planned? You remember how I was when I found out—I was a damn mess.”

Canaan laughed. “Yeah, you were.”

Zane leaned against the post of the open door. “I’m just sayin’, this shit has a way of taking you by surprise.” He waved as we headed out on foot back toward our apartment, which was only a few blocks away from Zane and Mara’s converted warehouse. “Don’t get into too much trouble, now, boys.”

“Hey, we’re rock stars. Trouble is what we do,” I said.

On the walk back home, Canaan broke the silence between us. “So…that was kind of wild, the night at the cabin.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Where are you at with everything?” he asked.

I shook my head and shrugged. “I dunno, man. A couple days apart to cool off, things may be different, you know? Maybe it was just a hot initial burn of chemistry from it being new and exciting? I dunno.”

“See, I’ve been trying to convince myself of the same thing, but I just can’t quite get there.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

He glanced at me, his hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders hunched, kicking a loose chunk of asphalt as he walked. “Where are you on the whole…multi-directional attraction thing?”

I laughed. “Hell if I know, Cane. I said pretty much everything the other morning. I can’t deny the attraction is real, but I just don’t think I’m cut out emotionally to really be willing to explore it. Like, we’ve passed groupie chicks back and forth when we were on tour, but that was just fucking around. This isn’t that, and Tate and Aerie aren’t groupies. It’s…it’s them—it’s the girls. We can’t fuck this up, you know?” I sighed, irritated at my own inability to put my feelings on the subject into words. “But at the same time, I can’t deny a pretty intense curiosity about what it might be like with Aerie. Like, would it be different? Obviously it would, they’re different people. Like, you and I are twins, but we’re not the same person, we’re not clones. So…I’m curious. But, emotionally, I’m just pulled to Tate, like a crazy strong pull. I feel like it could be something real. And I don’t want to fuck that up by messing with Aerie.”

Canaan clapped me on the shoulder. “See, this is why I love you so much—you can put this stuff into words in a way I can’t.” He walked a few steps before saying anything else. “That’s pretty much exactly how I feel.”

We reached our apartment, but instead of going upstairs we stayed in our studio, Canaan picking up a ukulele, and me a didgeridoo, and we spent a while just improv jamming.

During a break, I picked up a guitar pick and tossed it at Canaan, hitting him square on the forehead. “Let me put a hypothetical out there, just for the sake of conversation,” I said.

He tossed the pick back, and I caught it. “Okay.”

“Again, purely as a hypothetical scenario, not that I’m planning to try it or even necessarily want to, but…how would you feel toward me if I was to sleep with Aerie?”

He leaned back against the couch, setting the uke on his lap and running his hands through his hair. “Shit, dude, that’s a good question.” He thought about it for a long time before answering. “I’m not sure I’d be cool with it, honestly.”

I nodded. “And about us messing around in the lake? How do you really feel, deep down, totally honest, just between you and me?”

“It’s a little weird. If it was any other scenario than how it played out, like if you and her were to be alone together and that happened, I’d be a little upset. But it was all of us, we were all there and it happened the way it happened, so I feel like it’s not that big of a deal.”

“So you’re starting to get emotionally invested in Aerie, to the point that jealousy is a thing.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Which is a little scary, if you want the truth.”

“How about a lot scary? If it was some random chick, it wouldn’t feel as…big, I guess,” I said, “but it’s Tate and Aerie, and I know for a fact we’ll never meet anyone who understands us, where we come from, where we’ve been, why we’re the way we are…they know everything about us, you know? Like, the idea of meeting someone new, someone I’ve got no history with, who knows nothing about me, and trying to, like, fill them in on my life and all that? I get exhausted just thinking about it. With Tate, I just know she knows.”

Canaan bobbed his head in agreement. “They just get us, in a way literally no one else on the planet ever could.”

“Right,” I said, “which makes the stakes on this so much higher. Because if we screw up this friendship, we’ll never have anyone like them again.”

“Hate to break it to you, bro, but the friendship is already permanently altered,” Canaan said with a rueful laugh.

“I know. Tate and I talked about that. The moment they Skyped us that time, it was changed. No going back from there, man.”

Canaan leaned forward toward me. “But dude, can you even believe how hot they are? Like, for real?”

I held both hands up, palms out. “I typically hate this phrase, but…I literally can’t even, with how fucking gorgeous they are.”

“No matter how this plays out, Cor, we are two lucky sons’a’bitches to have gotten even the time we did with them, even if nothing else happens.”

I put out my both fists, and we tapped knuckles. “Truth, Cane, truth.”

---

Late the next morning, Canaan’s phone rang. We were at the bar—which was open but empty—munching on French fries and working on our newest album. Canaan was editing songs on his laptop, and I was trying to come up with an idea for cover art.

Canaan glanced at his phone as it lit up—Mike Lassiter, Nitro Punch. Canaan answered it and put it on speaker. “Yo, Mike, whattup?”

“Canaan, buddy. How the hell are you?”

“Good, man, good,” Canaan said, sliding the phone between us. “You’re on speaker, and Corin is with me.”

I set my pen down and leaned toward the phone. “Hey, man. What’s going on? Been a minute since we talked.”

“Actually, we were just talking about you guys,” Canaan said. “We were talking about that night on the tour bus in Seattle, with all those sorority chicks.”

Mike laughed. “Hoooo-boy, can’t forget that night, can you? That was wild.” He paused, and I heard voices in the background, knowing he was on his tour bus. “So, the reason I’m calling is that we’re actually playing a benefit show at J-BER tomorrow, and the guys we had lined up to open for us bailed on us. Somebody got sick or someone’s gramma died, or somethin’, I dunno, man. I just know they bailed, and we need a last-minute opener in fuckin’ Anchorage, and you two are the first ones I thought of. I know you guys have semi-retired or whatever, but is there any chance you guys can make it to Anchorage by two tomorrow afternoon? All you need is instruments, we’ve got all the sound equipment lined up. We can throw some bills your way, four or five hundred, maybe. Not much, I know, but it’s a benefit, right?”

J-BER, for those unfamiliar with Alaska, is the Joint Base Elmendorf–Richardson, an Army-Air Force combo base in Anchorage.

Canaan and I exchanged glances.

“We haven’t performed for anything more than a bar crowd in a while,” I said. “So we might be a bit rusty.”

“Eh, fuck that. You guys are pro, man. I’m not worried about that.”

“The other thing is, it’d be just the two of us playing,” Canaan put in. “Brett and Toby both found other bands. We can work up a set list and all that, as long as you’re cool with it being just us two.”

“No worries,” Mike said. “I’ve seen YouTube videos of your stripped-down set, and that shit is killer.”

“Our duo set is on YouTube?” I asked, not realizing this.

“Mostly cell phone stuff of you guys in that bar up that way. It’s good material, though.”

“Wow, that’s cool. I didn’t know it was up there,” I said. “We’ll have to have Xavier shoot some official C-and-C videos.”

“You got a better name that C-and-C? That shit is lame.”

“Well, Bishop’s Pawn is no more, so we can’t use that,” Canaan said. “We’ll figure something out.”

“So you guys are in? You can play the show?” Mike asked.

I glanced at Canaan, and he nodded, and I gave him a thumbs-up. “Yeah, man, we’re in.”

Mike blew out a heavy sigh. “Fucking…thank god, man. I was worried I was gonna have to get up there with my Taylor and do my one-man acoustic show.”

Canaan burst out laughing. “Mike, buddy, I love you man, but don’t ever do that.”

For the record, Nitro Punch is a heavy metal band, lots of mixed screaming and singing. Mike can sing well, but his real talent is his iron vocal chords, which let him do super deep growling and balls-to-the-wall screaming. The idea of Mike getting up with an acoustic guitar and a mic, and acting like a coffeehouse singer-songwriter is…well, it’s funny. Like, picture it: Mike Lassiter is six-six, built like a linebacker—because he was one in college, before he dropped out to pursue music—with waist-length black dreadlocks, covered in tattoos from literally head to toe, pierced everywhere, with a beard long enough he could braid it and it would still hang to mid-chest—he is every inch the hard-as-fuck, scary-intense heavy metal vocalist that he is. Not an acoustic set kinda guy, is my point.

“Hey, man, I’ve actually been doing some acoustic shit lately,” Mike protested. “We’ve been on a bit of a break as Nitro Punch for a while, since we all kind of wanted to do some solo stuff, and I ended up getting into the whole sappy singer-songwriter routine. Laugh all you want, but I’m not actually all that bad.”

Canaan glanced at me in shock. “Damn, dude. Well…okay, then. No offense, man. I just couldn’t picture you singing all pretty about roses and lattes and shit.”

Mike spluttered sarcastically. “Right, because I’m a roses and lattes guy. Most of my stuff is about me dealing with my childhood, working through all that bullshit.” Someone in the background yelled his name. “I gotta go, boys. I’ll send you my solo EP on Soundcloud, and you can make fun of me after you’ve listened to it, and then I’ll kick both of your scrawny asses at the same time when I see you at J-BER.”

“Sounds good. Except you can’t even kick your own ass, you big dumb pussy,” I said, laughing. “Okay, bye!” I hung up before he had a chance to retort.

Canaan pulled me into a hug. “Hell, yeah! First gig since we quit the Bishop’s Pawn tour!”

“What are we gonna call ourselves?” I asked. “Now that Mike pointed it out, C-and-C is lame as shit.”

“Well, it was always a place-holder until we came up with something else, which hasn’t been a priority up ’til now, since we’re not in a hurry to get this album out.”

I shrugged. “True. But we still need a badass name.”

At that moment, Aerie and Tate sashayed into the bar, arguing volubly about something.

“Hey, boys!” Tate said, with a happy grin. “So, what are we doing?”

“Well, it’s Friday, so Cane and I are playing a set tonight at the bar,” I said, as Tate took the stool beside me and Aerie the one beside Canaan, “and then we have to get ready for our gig in Anchorage tomorrow.”

Aerie glanced at me quizzically. “Gig in Anchorage? Did I miss this announcement?”

“No, because we literally just got it,” Canaan said.

“So…what is the gig?” Tate asked.

“Opening for Nitro Punch at J-BER. They’re doing a benefit show,” I answered.

“Nitro Punch?” Tate quirked an eyebrow. “Are there going to be a bunch of cock-hungry sorority bitches?”

I laughed. “Not likely.”

Canaan elbowed Aerie in the ribs, and leaned forward to catch Tate’s eye. “You guys should come to Anchorage with us. We can have some fun after the show.”

“That’s a great idea!” Tate said, pulling out her phone. “I’ll book us some rooms right now.”

Aerie stared at her sister. “I thought we agreed we were turning our phones off while we were here, T.”

Tate shrugged, not looking up from her phone. “I needed to look something up on the Internet this morning, and never turned it off. I haven’t checked social media, if that makes you feel any better.”

Aerie rolled her eyes. “Great…now I’ll never get you off that damn thing.”

Tate was typing furiously, and then she hauled her wallet out of her purse, entered credit card info, then put the card and wallet away, tapped the screen a few more times, and then powered the phone off. “There!” she announced, triumphant. “Two single king bedrooms at the Embassy Suites. And the phone is off.”

I found it a significant assumption that she’d booked two rooms. Of course, she could be intending that she and Aerie would stay in one, and me and Cane in the other, but somehow…I didn’t think so.

“When do we leave?” Aerie asked.

“Uh, that’s actually a really good question,” I said. “It’s, like, forty hours to Anchorage by car, which won’t work since we have to be there by two tomorrow afternoon. We have to book a flight.”

Brock—who had been leaning back against the service bar with his nose in his phone this whole time, ignoring us and our conversations—glanced up at us. “I can fly you guys up there, if you want. It’ll be a tight squeeze, but if all you’re bringing is some guitars and your cajon and the four of you, we can make it work.”

“Kick ass!” Canaan said. “You sure do come in handy, Brock.”

“Brock’s air taxi at your service,” Brock teased. “Seriously, though, I’m considering selling both of my planes and upgrading to a newer, bigger seaplane that can hold more people. With the right licensing, I can probably make some bank as a local shuttle pilot.”

“You should do it,” I said. “It’d be a nice side gig.”

Brock pointed at the ceiling. “It would probably make tending bar here the side gig, to be honest.” He gestured at Canaan and me. “And by the way, why don’t you guys just call yourselves Badd? Simple, easy to turn into a cool logo, and memorable.”

Canaan and I exchanged amused looks.

“Why didn’t we think of that?” Canaan asked, laughing.

“Because I’m smarter than you?” Brock said.

And thus, our trip to Anchorage was nailed down.

And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited about the prospect of sharing a room—and a bed—with Tate.

Judging by the eager glitter in Tate’s eyes as she looked at me, I’d say she felt the same way.

This was shaping up to be a hell of a weekend.