Page 103 of Pin-up Girl

The best examples frequently were. “Stick with me. Yes, our pasts make us what we are—who we are. If Brodie had stayed here after high school, not only would the world have missed out on what he discovered, but Brodie, you’d be different. I can’t say how, but you wouldn’t be this. Maybe I wouldn’t have Dee—and the idea of that hurts. Maybe you would have withdrawn or opened a book store or… Or…”

I let the thought float into the air and evaporate. “Aubrey, do you regret where you are in life?”

“No.”

“Because you’re amazing and talented and you get to share that. You give every day. Not because you feel obligated, but because of who you are and because you like seeing people happy.”

“I do.” There was a lift to her reply.

“And yeah, there are days I wish my dance career had gone somewhere.” Though at this age, it wouldn’t be going anywhere much longer. “And there are days I crave the spotlight so badly it aches. Then some student thanks me for helping chemistry make sense, or Dee tells me about an idea she had, or I see one of you… I wouldn’t pursue that dream if it meant missing out on any of this.”

“Not sure I see your point.” Brodie used that flat delivery that made it hard to tell if he was serious or ribbing me.

I was happy to go into more detail regardless. “My point is, we do what we can with the hand we’re dealt, and as long as we stay true to ourselves, we made the right choice. If we couldn’t be us in the past, we do it moving forward. We learn, we grow, we hurt, we make mistakes. We think Deacon is prime man meat for whatever ungodly reason…” I needed to lighten the mood in here.

Aubrey almost laughed, and she sat up enough to swat me in the chest. “He’s cute.”

“He had a fucking man bun.”

“Exactly.” Aubrey thought more highly of the hairstyle than I did. “And he had a mural of Helms Deep painted on one of his walls.”

“But?” I prodded.

“But he loves other people, and so do I,” Aubrey said.

My heart lifted at the implication.

“Yeah? Who?” Brodie was apparently still playing the straight man.

God bless him.

Aubrey shook her head, still smiling. “You, Goof. Both of you.”

“Deacon loves me?” Brodie managed to ask the incredulous question with a straight face.

Aubrey laughed harder in response.

This felt good. Nothing she said was fixed, but it could all be dealt with. “You don’t want Deacon’s love,” I said to Brodie.

“Because man bun?”

I pretended to consider the question. “That too. But my man buns are way hotter than his.”

“This is true,” Aubrey conceded. “You’ve got a really nice ass.”

Brodie sighed loudly. “I don’t know. I might have to see both, in order to compare.”

“I’ll call him,” I said. “He can come over?—”

“You will not.” Aubrey stopped my slow reach for my phone. “I’m spilling my heart out here and trying to confess my love for both of you. Don’t you dare call someone else. Especially not Deacon.”

“Oh.” Brodie’s eyes went comically wide, and I could almost see the cartoon light bulb above his head. “You meant you love us.”

Aubrey slid from my lap, pushing Brodie aside enough to drop onto the couch between us, and she tugged his face toward her. “Yes.” Her voice was lighter than it had been all evening. “I love you both so much.” She tilted her head back to look at me. “And Clint has a point—we can’t change what happened before, but we can make the best decisions possible going forward. That’s mine. Telling you both that I love you.”

I kissed her forehead. “I love you too. For so long.” I tugged her back.

She squealed as she lost her balance, and Brodie grabbed her arm, pulling her upright again. He pressed his mouth to hers. “I feel kind of like a copycat saying it now, but I mean it. I love you too, Peach.”

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