“What?” I asked, still coughing a little. Roger was still smiling. “Both of you?”

“Small side bet,” said Lucien, slapping a twenty on the table. “Welcome to Kentucky.”

“I thought I was going to insult you if I didn’t drink it,” I said, feeling flustered and betrayed, but also noticing how Roger looked like he was having fun as he leaned back against the booth, pocketing his twenty. I mentally added it to our current total.

“Nah,” Lucien said. He edged my water glass toward me. “You’ll probably need that.” I grabbed the glass and took a big sip. “I think bourbon’s disgusting. I have no idea how my mother drinks it. I think you actually can’t drink it until you’re in your fifties and can no longer taste anything.”

“Sorry about that,” Roger said to me, looking a little sheepish.

“Yeah, sure,” I said. I tried to glare at him but found I couldn’t keep the expression on my face.

“Cheers?” asked Lucien, holding up his water. I raised my sweet tea glass and Roger lifted his Coke.

“Cheers,” I said, and we clinked.

Lucien looked across at Roger. “So. You and Hadley, huh?”

“Yeah,” Roger said, clearing his throat. “I mean, we were dating this year at school. We broke up right as classes were ending.”

“Let me guess,” Lucien said with a sigh. “You haven’t heard from her since?”

“Not really,” said Roger. “I mean, we talked a little today, but …”

“Now she’s not returning your calls?”

“No,” he said slowly. “She’s not.”

Lucien shook his head. “I’m sorry, man,” he said. “I’m afraid that’s just her MO.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Modus operandi,” Lucien said. “It’s Latin.”

“No,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I know what that means. I mean, what do you mean?”

“One more guess,” said Lucien, ignoring my question and turning again to Roger. “She didn’t really give any explanation for why she was ending it either.”

“Who,” Roger said, a little blustery, “who said that she ended it? I mean, maybe it was my idea.” Lucien just looked at him, and Roger sighed. “No,” he said. “No explanation.”

“Her MO,” Lucien said, turning to me. “I’ve been watching her do this to suckers—no offense—”

“None taken,” said Roger.

“Since she was in middle school. I’m afraid it’s just what she does. You got caught in Hurricane Hadley. She comes in, shakes things up, and then leaves destruction and confused guys behind in her wake.”

“This happens a lot?” Roger asked, his voice a bit strained.

Lucien nodded, and then there was a moment in which we all became very interested in our drinks. “But nobody’s actually ever called her on this shit before,” Lucien said, breaking the silence. “So good for you for coming here, man. Maybe you’ll be the one to get through to her.” He held his glass up to Roger. “I wish you luck.”

I looked over at Roger, who was still staring down into his soda, and I felt like I was seeing something that I shouldn’t have.

“But what do I know?” Lucien asked, a bit too loudly, maybe feeling the same way I did. “I mean, I’m just the younger brother. It’s not exactly like she confides in me.” He turned to me, and with the air of someone who is desperate to change the subject, asked, “Do you have any siblings?”

“One brother,” I said, feeling like I’d already thought about Charlie more than I’d wanted to tonight, and wishing that Lucien had chosen almost any other subject.

“Older?”

“Younger,” I said. “Three minutes.”

Lucien’s eyebrows shot up. “No shit,” he said. “Twins?” I nodded. “So you guys must be super close, right?”

I felt my stomach clench a little when he said this. Charlie and I had had moments when we were younger when we’d been close, but mostly it seemed like we’d been battling our whole lives. Like there was always a wall between us that never came down. “Not really,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “No, not very close.”

“Oh,” said Lucien, and silence fell again. I had a feeling he wasn’t going to be introducing any more topics of conversation tonight.

“Well, at least he’s never bit you,” Roger said, coming back into the conversation with a voice that was determinedly upbeat. He extended his wrist across the table, so we could all see a small, circular scar on his palm. “My stepbrother,” he said. “Very hungry kid.”

“That’s nothing,” said Lucien, rolling up his sleeve and showing us a faint scar on his forearm. “When I was eight, Hadley trained her horse to kick me. She always denied it, but our groom told me the truth.”

Roger reached across to my plate to steal a strawberry, and Lucien excused himself, laying his napkin on the table, where it was immediately refolded by a waiter. “Sorry,” I said once Lucien was gone, realizing we hadn’t had an opportunity to talk yet, just the two of us. “About inviting him, I mean.”

“No, it’s fine,” Roger said. “He’s nice.”

“He is,” I said. “I just …” I hadn’t told Roger about what it had been like, staying in our house by myself. I didn’t think I’d even fully realized how it had made me feel until I’d seen something I recognized in Lucien’s expression. “I think he seemed lonely, that’s all.”

“It’s been fun,” said Roger, giving me a faint smile that immediately disappeared. He shook his head. “Hadley had mentioned she had a brother, but no details, really. She hadn’t told me what her house was like, or this town. It’s weird.” He drummed his fingers on the polished surface of the table, then continued, “Being here, it makes me feel like I didn’t actually know her at all.”

“Oh,” I said. I looked at Roger’s face to try and gauge what that meant for him. “But you still want to try to see her tomorrow, right?”

“Yes,” he said, then nodded. “I do. I mean, we’ve come this far, right?”