Page 76 of Burning Daylight
I skim the area again like maybe I just missed him.
Tyler shrugs, but he avoids my eyes. “You know he doesn’t like coming to these things.”
“Yeah, but…”
It’s me.
I don’t say the last part out loud, but I guess I’m showing it on my face, because Tyler gives me a pitying look and says, “Lance is a dick.”
Suddenly, he clicks his tongue and gestures toward the giant sliding doors leading to the veranda. “Speak of the devil…”
I follow where he’s pointing, relief whipping through me when Lance appears in the crowd. He’s not alone; his best friend Art is right there by his side, and as they get closer, I do a double take.
Art was always kind of scrawny and scrappy, but that’s definitely changed. Now he’s broad shouldered, his auburn hair perfectly styled, and his tailored suit fitted perfectly to his body.
He looks just like his dad, Mayor Penngrove.
“Art’s…different,” I note.
Tyler snorts. “Trying to be more like his dad every day.”
I choke on my drink.
“Art?” I clarify. “Like hisfather?”
Art has always hated that his dad was in politics. Used to joke frequently about how he’d become an anarchist just to say “fuck you” to the system and ensure his father couldn’t force him into following in his footsteps.
Tyler grimaces. “Unfortunately.”
My mouth drops open when Art pats Lance on the back and then jogs over to stand next to his dad.
“You think Lance and Art are…?” Tyler continues.
“Are…what?” I reply.
“You know.” He sticks his finger through the hole he’s made with his other hand lewdly, wiggling his brows. “Lovahs.”
I scoff. “God, who cares?Thisis why you get black eyes.”
“Hey, I’m not judging. I’m justasking.” He shrugs, lifting his hands in the air.
“You’re being a prick.”
I turn my sights back on Lance. I haven’t technically seen much of my brothers since getting back, but the rest of them I talk to frequently enough where it doesn’t feel like we’ve become complete strangers.
Lance is a different story.
It’s like I don’t know him at all anymore, which makes me sad because we used to be the closest.
I keep watching him and waiting for him to search the crowd to find me. Maybe give me a quick “I missed you.”
But Lance doesn’t even look in my direction.
All of my brothers treat me the same: like I’m furniture, decoration, good to be on display but not good enough for anything else.
Lance’s frown is intense as he leans in and says something to Paxton and Alex, and then Alex nods and disappears inside.
“Why is everyone in our family so goddamn rude?” I mutter, trying to hide the hurt in my voice.
