Page 88 of Roommate's Guide to Love

She nods but doesn’t say anything else.

“I’d miss you too. More than you know.”

Her eyes snap up to mine as I stand in front of her, leaning down to kiss her forehead. I let it linger longer than I probably should have, but I don’t care. I need her to know where I stand.

And before she can say anything else, I walk out of the room.

guide to love rule #126

No one knows you, or knows how to call you an idiot, quite like a sister.

25

quinn

There arespecific siblings you call for certain things.

When you need sunshine and rainbows, you call Ainsley.

When you need money, you call Simon.

When you need a slap across the head, that’s a Maeve call.

When you need to know a person’s detailed life history but only have a first name, you call Stella.

The problem is, when you need someone to get you drunk and tell you the hard truth, you call me.

Which is a problem, because I’m the one who needs to get drunk.

Correction: I am drunk. Now I just need a sibling to come over and tell me what the hell to do with my life.

To tell me to get my head out of my ass and stay in Rolling Hills.

And, to see if they know if I’m actually in love with Porter McCoy.

Because I think I am.

Fucking forehead kisses. They get you every time.

Which means that I have to tell my sisters the secret I’ve been keeping from them for eight years.

Quinn: SISTERS!!!! MOUNT UP!

Maeve: What the fuck, Quinn?

Stella: I know you keep bartender hours now, but you know the rest of us don’t.

Ainsley: Is everything okay?

Quinn: No, everything is not okay!

Stella: Are you drunk?

Quinn: Maybe. A little.

Ainsley: Where are you?

Quinn: The diner.

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