Page 26 of Roses in Summer

Shaking my head, I pull myself out of my thoughts and focus on the syllabus in front of me. At Penn U, I studied library sciences and found solace in the stacks, reorganizing the books touched and handled by the students and faculty until they were perfectly positioned on the shelves.

I didn’t want to come back to New Jersey, let alone apply for a spot in Marymount’s elite master’s of library science program, but I knew that I would have been foolish not to. With its reputation and proximity to my family, I think my parents would have disowned me if I hadn’t agreed to finally move closer to home.

The familiarity and abundance of Wawas—one of the most popular gas stations in the area—are nice, but I keep looking over my shoulder, expecting one of the ghouls from my past to pop out. I know Liv feels the same way; her energy has been unsteady and frantic ever since she followed me back. We couldn’t be more different: the tough-as-nails beauty with a love of wildlife and the outdoors, and me, a pint-size people-pleaser with a penchant for solitude and antiques. But somehow, we work.

I look down at my syllabus again, prepared to memorize the assignments, their due dates, and the course expectations. But just as I settle into the chair to immerse myself in the droll words, a knock sounds on my door. I wait for my sister to answer it, but when seconds tick by and she doesn’t open her bedroom door, I sigh in defeat.

“Coming, coming,” I yell out.

“That’s what she said,” a voice responds, and I roll my eyes at Ava’s words.

“Why are all of my siblings so weird— Oh, hi, Greyson,” I yelp, surprised to find Ava’s boyfriend on the other side of the door, though really, the two rarely leave each other’s side. When they first got together almost four and a half years ago, I had apprehension and reservations; he seemed unhealthily obsessed with my sister, to the point where I worried his attention was stifling. My concern only grew when she was attacked by one of his former hook-ups, landing her in an emergency surgery to save her life.

But what I noticed about Ava and Grey is that, while they are definitely obsessed with each other, they’re not codependent.

“Smalls,” he teases, nodding at me as he steps over the threshold with large trays cradled in his hand. Following his entry for a moment, I watch as he places them on the worn coffee table.

“Yes, hi. Remember me? You don’t need to look at Grey’s ass.”

Shaking my head, I turn my head and focus on my sister and her very bizarre outfit. “Ava, it’s June, why are you wearing gloves? And what is with that scarf?” She is dressed like a pinup from 1942, with a red swing dress, black gloves, and a red-and-black scarf artfully draped over her head and tied around her neck. Her cat-eye sunglasses and red lipstick complete her look, and while she looks stunning, I’m confused as to why she’s so dressed up when we’re having wings and pizza in my small apartment.

“I’m trying a new thing.” She waves dismissively, shouldering past me. Closing the door behind her, I watch her saunter up to Greyson and feel myself become uncomfortably warm at the look in his eyes while my sister’s curvy body is on display.

I love their love for each other, but moments like this make me want to vomit. It’s not that I don’t like how comfortable they are—how obviously in love and attracted they are to one another—it’s that I’m jealous, and I hate myself for it.

Clearing my throat, I avert my gaze the moment Greyson wraps an arm around my sister’s waist and pulls her flush against his body. Her soft giggle tells me that I need to put an end to it before I have to offer them my room to relieve some of their obvious need.

“Bianca, will you get your ass in here before Ava and Grey start christening our furniture?”

“Hey! We’re not that bad,” Ava complains.

“Vixen,” Grey growls, a smile in the word, though I’m not sure how that’s even possible.

“Bianca, I’m serious. Now.”

A creaking of a door tells me that Bianca is coming out of her cave and joining the PDA session we’ve found ourselves in.

“Who says I haven’t already christened the couch?”

To someone else, someone not related to Bianca by blood or through a relationship, I’m sure the way the three of us whipped our heads around at that statement, and the matching grimaces on our faces, would be comical.

Right now, it’s just disgusting.

“Bianca, are you joking? We eat on that couch; we watch movies there.” I control my voice, keeping it level when I want to scream. “You have a bedroom. Can’t you bring guys in there?”

“Bedrooms are private.” She shrugs like she’s stating the obvious.

Shooting her a glare, I breathe out, “Exactly,” into the room, though no one hears me.

“Anyway,” Bianca continues, “shouldn’t the two of you be out of the honeymoon phase? It’s been like ten years, right?”

“Four and a half, but close.” Ava huffs, offering Grey a shy smile as she does.

Okay,weird,I say in my head, staring at the two of them.

I’m about to ask what’s going on when a knock sounds on my door—ripping my eyes from the scene before me. I open the door, smiling when I see Rafe on the other side.

“Hey, little one,” he comments, and I roll my eyes at the nickname. He’s older than me by five minutes, and he won’t let me forget it.

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