Page 58 of My Brother's Best Friends

You don’t need a psychology degree to see the truth.

I just need to keep my eyes open and get to the bottom of it, one way or another.

19

OSCAR

This is a dirty move, and Melanie knows it.

She’s a lousy sister, too; Callie has no clue what happened between us. That might have to change if Melanie plans on disrupting the rest of our holiday—settlement be damned.

I nod, smile, and keep the conversation humming, all while pointedly ignoring Melanie. Makayla keeps stealing glances at me. She’s no fool; she already senses something’s off.

“How’s your truffle sauce?” I ask her with a warm smile.

She twirls a few pieces of penne in the dark gray sauce; the earthy, cheesy aroma drifts straight to my nose. “I don’t regret ordering this dish,” Makayla says. “I know I should’ve gone for something specifically Swedish again, but when the waitress mentioned truffles, I just had to.”

“They pair well with the wine, too,” Melanie chimes in. “Thanks for the tip, Kay.”

“You’re most welcome,” she replies with a warm smile.

Kay. Listen to her. Calling her Kay. Sniffing her out like the predator that she is. Legally, I can’t talk about what happened. I don’t want to talk about it, either. Should the truth come out, it will devastate Callie. Hell, with Makayla back in our lives, I don’t want to ruin our chances with her, either.

“You’ve got plenty of time to try out the rest of the local dishes,” Kellan tells Makayla as he cuts into his seared salmon. “Didn’t the waitress mention something about a separate dessert menu?”

“Oh, she totally did,” Callie exclaims, her eyes round with anticipation. “I hear the Swedes make some of the best sweets in the world!”

“As long as the spirits keep flowing, I’ll eat whatever is placed in front of me,” Alex grumbles.

Alex takes Melanie’s sudden appearance the hardest, and I can’t blame him. He never wanted to go through with the settlement. For a moment, I was tempted to side with him. Maybe I should’ve. Maybe, if we had everything out in the open, I wouldn’t be choking down every bite while mapping out evasive maneuvers—Makayla will have questions as soon as we’re alone again.

I loathe the idea of lying to her.

“I think the Danes are the ones famous for pastries,” Melanie says.

“They’re all related cultures, at least to some degree,” Callie replies. “The Swedes have their share of pastries, too, but after some googling and spraining my eyes while trying to read the desserts’ original names, I think I’m most excited about the Klappgröt. God, I hope I’m pronouncing it right…”

Makayla laughs. “That name does not sound delicious.”

“But it is, once I tell you what it’s made of,” Callie insists.

Bryan gives his girl a loving look. “Aw, you googled Swedish stuff before we came here…”

“Of course. I have to—we have to—make this experience count!”

I feel my phone ping in my pocket, and take it out as if it's the most natural move in the world. I’ve got a text from Alex, across the table.

What the fuck?he writes.

I give him the side eye. Now isn’t the time or place to pass notes. Makayla’s suspicious enough as it is; the last thing I want is to give her more reason to doubt us.

“Melanie just made junior partner at her firm, by the way,” Callie announces.

Ignorance really is bliss at this point. And it’s making this dinner even harder to get through without hurling a plate at her sister’s head.

“Congratulations,” I reply with a flat tone.

“It was just a matter of when, not if, much like with everything else in my life,” Melanie says, eyeing me intently.

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