Bonnie

I sit on the stool next to the island, my memories tripping over last night. I can at least send him a message to be sure he got home okay. Or, what’s to stop us from meeting up when he’s in town again in the future? I search for my phone and right on cue, two quick vibrations in a row fill the space. It’s lying face up on the coffee table. I pick it up with the intention of opening Tinder, but my most recent email notification distracts me instead. It’s an email from my boss, requesting a meeting first thing tomorrow morning. He wants to follow up on the conversation we had before I left on Friday about the “overly technical” nature of my forecasts.

With that, the bubble is broken. I’ve put years into my career, sacrificing my social life, boyfriends, and countless other things along the way. There isn’t any time to lose focus now. I pick up my phone again and navigate to Tinder. The message thread with RidgeMan93 opens, but I force myself to close out of it. I navigate through the menus, my thumb hovering over the screen for a few seconds before I confirm I want to deactivate my account. After I delete the app, I shove my phone in the couch cushions, wanting it out of sight and out of mind.

Okay, Michelle.One hour of wallowing in a bath to soothe your aching body, and then no more thinking about why your body feels so deliciously used.

I push up off the couch and push through the wave of sadness that hits me. Goodbye, RidgeMan.

Chapter

Four

Hunter

2 months later

I’m not one for pomp and circumstance, yet the song blares over the speakers at Winterberry Glen’s community college as I walk down the aisle toward the front rows reserved for the graduates. Midway down, a wolf whistle cuts through the crowd noise, causing everyone around me in line to look to the left.

Cheers of “Hunter! Woo! Go Brandt!” erupt from the section we’re walking past. My cheeks heat as my four brothers, two of their partners, my dad, and my stepmom take up almost a whole row of their own. A warmth a lot like pride and maybe a bit like embarrassment takes up residence in my chest.

My brothers hold nine college and post-graduate degrees between them, and I worried the ceremony at a community college wouldn’t hold up to all those events. So far though, everything seems to be the same. Big song, graduates walking in lines wearing caps and gowns, and now, the start of a revolving stage of speeches. My mind starts to wander, heading where it always does these days.

To a night almost two months ago. My weather girl, with her contagious laugh, quick sense of wit, and well, yes, her bangin’ body. The way she moaned as I slid into her for the third time, gripping that ass ...

An elbow in my side jolts me into awareness as a voice booms from the stage. “Now presenting, the graduates for the degree of Associates in Culinary Arts.” I stand up, catching up with the rest of my class. Never thought I’d be glad for the shape of a graduation gown, but not having to worry if you can see my half-chub in these photos is a huge a relief.

I jolt back into the moment. Sentimental isn’t a word many would use to describe me, but I know what a big deal today is, not only for me, but for my family who has been waiting a good long time for me to grow up.

Being so close to the front of the alphabet means I don’t have wait long before I hear “Hunter Brandt,” from the same booming voice. I walk forward a few steps and grab my diploma from some dude and shake hands with more women and men I’m maybe supposed to know. At graduation rehearsal, they hammered home we’re supposed to turn around and stop for our official photo. I rolled my eyes then, but when the man with the camera frantically waves his hands to get my attention, I realize they probably know what they’re talking about.

I put on a grin for the camera. The whole row of my family explodes in a standing ovation. My smile gets a lot bigger, and I blink back a few tears as they continue to cause a huge scene. Not wanting to blubber in front of all these people, I hit a strong man pose. It gets a huge laugh from the crowd. I jog down the stairs to head to my seat, smile still pulling at my cheeks. Maybe I don’t have to grow all the way up right now.

The parking lot is a sea of black gowns and proud family members as I wander through, looking for my people. While I search, I nod at a few faces I recognize from my classes, racking my brain for their names. Maybe I should have made more of an effort to connect with my peers. I still need to secure a job with this culinary arts degree we’re making such a big deal about, and I always hear my oldest brother Duncan talking about networking.

Whooping from my right pulls me out of those thoughts as a whole crowd of Brandts stand next to a landscaping island with colorful flowers soaking up the late spring sun. My twin, Hayden, is the first one to pull me into a hug. His back pats may be a bit harder than necessary.

“Proud of you, Hunt,” he says, his voice a little rough as he pulls back to let everyone else have their turn. My dad isn’t trying to hide the tears in his eyes and gratefully takes the tissue my stepmom, Margaret, holds out for him.

After everyone has gotten their hugs in, we stand in a circle. Awkwardness starts to settle over me when Hayden’s girlfriend, Charlotte, breaks the silence. “Hey now, Jax and I didn’t fight people off for this prime photo spot to stand here! Let’s Kodak this moment!”

Everyone jumps into action as Margaret shepherds us into position. She may have married my dad when Hayden and I were seventeen, but she’s a natural at managing our circus.

“Thanks,” I mutter to Charlotte in the transition.

“Don’t mention it,” she says. “Your trapped face is the same as Hayden’s.” I open my mouth, and she holds up a hand, cutting me off. “No, I do not wonder what other faces you may share, nor do I want to find out.”

I laugh, hooking her arm around mine for a moment before handing her off to my twin. They save the spot in the middle of the group for me.

“I can take it,” Jax, Preston’s partner, says, pulling her phone out of her bag and making motions to leave her spot by Preston.

“My assistant was supposed to come this weekend so we could avoid this moment and act as photographer, but she had afamily situation,” Duncan says with ire, ignoring the irony of being involved in a family situation of his own right now. I meet the eyes of my second oldest brother, Preston, before matching his eye roll. We’ll have to get another pool going to see how long it is before Duncan fires this one.

“No way,” Margaret says. “We need to get the whole family in.” I watch Preston kiss Jax’s cheek, flushed a rosy pink.

“Yoohoo, excuse me! Can one of you take our picture?” Margaret waves down a family next to us. “We’ll gladly do the same for you when we’re done.”

We fumble with whose phone the picture should be on, before all agreeing Charlotte is the most responsible to remember to share it with everyone. Photo ownership settled, my family tightens in around me, yelling cheese when prompted. The warmth in my chest returns. My brothers all have lives and high-powered jobs. Hell, our youngest brother, Spencer, only gets like five days a year off from his lab. But here we all are together for the first time in forever, and they came together for me.