I tried not to think too much about it as I sat on the couch—where Drew had slept the night before—and booted up my laptop. If I thought about it, I would go crazy.

“What are you doing?” Roscoe asked conversationally, flopping down on the sofa next to me.

“I’m signing on to Skype for my knit night.”

“Why are you doing it out here? I thought the wireless worked everywhere in the house?”

“It does. But when I tried to do Skype from my bedroom, the video and audio kept cutting out. The signal is best down here.”

Roscoe frowned. “Did you tell Drew?”

“No.” I felt a little surge of awareness at the mention of Drew’s name, like it was a secret, and hearing it spoken aloud was a thrill. I was truly ridiculous.

Swatting away the butterflies in my stomach, I opened Skype, made sure that it showed my avatar as available, then set the laptop on the coffee table and reached for my knitting.

“Why not?” Roscoe persisted. “I’m sure he’d fix it.”

“I’m sure Drew has better things to do with his time. Besides, I’m just thankful it works at all. I don’t mind doing the calls out here. Why?” I glanced at my brother. “Does it bother you? I did it here last week and no one seemed to care.”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I really liked your friends, especially the blonde one. They were both hot, but Sandra scared me a little. Now, Elizabeth…she’s the kind of health care provider I can get behind, if you know what I mean.”

“Ugh.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re gross.”

“I’m not gross. I’m at peace with my sexuality, and I’d like to give others a piece of it as well, spread a little peace around, get several pieces out there.”

I stifled a giggle and smacked him on the arm. “Well, I’ll be sure to tell Elizabeth’s husband about your feelings.”

“She’s married?” He sounded forlorn.

“Yes. Here, if you stick around you can meet him. They’re just about to call me.”

“No thanks.” He snorted, paused, then narrowed his eyes at me. “What’s he like? Is he a doctor too? I bet they play doctor together.”

“Ugh! Really, Roscoe? Really?”

“Seriously, what’s he like?”

I inhaled a deep breath and held it, thought about how I would describe Nico to someone who’d never met him. It was difficult because I didn’t know where to start.

Nico was a famous comedian. And he was hot. And sweet. And completely, totally, in love with Elizabeth.

“He’s great,” I finally said. “They have crazy schedules and hardly see each other. He learned how to crochet so that he could join our knitting group and spend more time with her.”

“He learned how to crochet just to please a woman?”

I smacked Roscoe again. “Yes. He learned how to crochet—for a woman. And you’re a dumbass.”

“I would never do that,” Roscoe said with a smirk. “Talk about losing your man card.”

I grunted and sighed. My little brother would learn one day that falling madly in love with a woman and cherishing her was how a boy earned his man card.

The indicator on the screen announced that a call was coming through, so I clicked on the button to accept the call. An image of Elizabeth and Nico’s penthouse materialized on the screen, and my heart was warmed by the sight. Sandra, Elizabeth, Janie, Fiona, Marie, and Nico were all sitting on the large sectional in the family room; a bay window in the background provided a stunning view of downtown.

It was Chicago. It was knit night. My friends were there. It looked like home.

“Ah! It’s you!” Marie smiled a huge smile and tossed her blonde curls behind her back. “Look at your beautiful face. I’ve missed it.” She blew me a kiss.

Marie always looked like she’d just stepped out of the pages of Vogue. Her ambition and her ferocious need for independence could make her come across as cool and calculating. Personally, I thought she was a badass.

“Hey, girl.” I returned her smile and sighed, feeling content in a way that I’d missed since stepping on that plane to Tennessee. “Where is Kat?”

“She’s getting beverages.” Marie tipped her head in the direction of Elizabeth’s kitchen, outside the frame.

“Who is that? Who is sitting next to you?” Elizabeth indicated to my right where Roscoe was sitting. “Is that Billy or Roscoe?”

“That’s Roscoe, and he was just leaving.”

Everyone in Chicago ignored me and waved at my brother, giving him friendly smiles and greetings.

“Hi, Roscoe. I’m Janie,” She introduced herself with a short wave as she twisted her long, curly, red hair into a bun behind her head. “It’s nice to meet you. You share a striking resemblance to your sister. But where she’s exceptionally beautiful, you are exceptionally man beautiful, which means you would not look attractive dressed up as woman.”

I knew Janie, so I knew she didn’t mean anything by this at all. She frequently made observations out loud that most people merely thought…quietly…in their head…where those thoughts should be.

Roscoe sat up straighter and leaned forward, his voice infused with Roscoe-swagger. “Hey, nice to meet you.”

“Down, boy.” Sandra laughed and indicated Janie with her chin. “You don’t want to mess around in the strawberry jam. Her husband is big and scary and makes people disappear on Fridays, or really any day of the week.”

“He’s not so bad.” This statement came from Fiona, the most levelheaded and also the oldest of our group, though only by a few years. She’d gone to school for engineering, but then left the world of work to become a stay at home mom.

“He’s terrifying,” Nico said, causing everyone to laugh. I could see he was crocheting; both he and Janie crochet while the rest of us knit.

“Hello, Nicoletta.” I waved at him. We called him Nicoletta so he would feel like one of the girls. It didn’t help, however. No one could ever mistake Nico for being one of the girls.

“Hi, Ashley.” Nico returned my wave with a twinkly-eyed smile. “Marie is right, it’s good to see your face. I miss your dairy farm analogies.”

Before I could retort, Roscoe abruptly stood and darted out of the room. I frowned after his retreating form then shrugged, a bit perplexed by his sudden departure, but not curious enough to find out why he left so fast.

Just then, Kat’s voice sounded over the speaker of my laptop. “Oh my goodness gracious, look who it is. Fancy Yarn McGee!”

I glanced at the screen and saw Kat standing at the edge of the frame, her hands holding two glasses of wine.

“What are you talking about?”

“That’s my new name for you after raiding your yarn stash. Do you have any acrylic yarn in your stash? Anything synthetic? Or will only luxury fibers do?” Kat poked fun at me, obviously having dug through my yarn stash when she stopped by my apartment to water my plants. I didn’t mind the teasing at all, but the behavior was very unusual for her. Typically, she was reserved and quiet. It was actually really nice to see her breaking out of her shell; it only took her four years.

“That’s reverse yarn-snobbery, and I will not justify your questioning with an answer.”

Kat laughed, took a swig of her red wine, and claimed the empty spot next to Marie. “Fair enough. Seriously though, I totally stole some of your yarn. And your lifesize cutout of Charlie Hunnam says hi.”

Before I could respond, I felt something hit me in the head, something unsubstantial. I turned and glanced behind the couch and saw a plastic cup on the floor. Lifting my eyes to the doorway of the kitchen, I found Beau and Roscoe standing there, out of the frame of my webcam.

I glanced at the cup then back at them, one of my eyebrows lifted.

They waved their arms frantically, indicating that I should join them in the kitchen, but said nothing aloud.

I turned back to the webcam, sighed, and announced, “Sorry, I’ll be right back. Two of my hillbilly brothers want to play charades in the kitchen.”

“Is it hillbilly charades?” Marie asked, her eyes on her knitting.

“What is hillbilly charades?” Janie perked up.

Sandra provided a definition that was only mildly offensive. “It’s where the male players have to be drunk on moonshine and are only allowed to give hints by playing different tempos on a banjo.”

“Or a jug. They can also give hints by playing on a jug,” Fiona added.

“And the answer is always the movie, Deliverance.” This gem came from Nico.

“Ha, ha. Very funny.” I rolled my eyes.

“Go right ahead,” Elizabeth said, waving her hand in the air. “And while you’re up, you might as well grab some red wine.”

“We’ll miss you while you’re gone, Ashley.” Nico grinned at me. He was really too adorable. Like, illegal levels of adorable. Someone should be held responsible for his adorableness in a court of law.

“Agree!” This came from Sandra. “Roses are red, violets are blue, rhyming is hard. Wine.”

Laughing at her nonsense, I placed my knitting to the side and padded to the kitchen. My mission was two-fold: berate my brothers for throwing plastic cups at my head and find wine. I wasn’t even sure we had wine. It suddenly occurred to me that I’d gone an entire month without red wine.