Page 25 of Since Always

I love my brother more than I love anyone in the entire world, which is the only reason that I plaster on a smile when they arrive with Stephanie in tow, and make myself walk over to greet her.

She gives me an awkward hug. "Hey, Cass," she says, her voice full of nerves. "Look at you. You're all grown up. She's beautiful," she says, turning to my brother and Owen as I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Kiss ass.

"She is," Chris says. "She's a literal 50/50 mix of her mom and our dad."

"Oh wow," Owen says, as if noticing for the first time, “she really is."

"Chris says you are at USC? You must be busy with school and all the cute guys there.." She sounds peppy, and I fight the urge to say something sarcastic.

"I'm studying most of the time," I say instead. She looks uncomfortable when I don't elaborate, but I don't have it in me to say anything more.

The group all begins to make small talk, and Steph is laying it on thick. She lavishes compliments on Owen, me, my family, my brother, and the family business. I almost feel sorry for her about how hard she is trying, but every time I let myself go down that path, I remember what she did to him.

My friends have gathered around us, and the girls are doing little to hide their fascination with Owen. Bonnie stands close to him, chatting and finding reasons to touch him. My stomach lurches. Bonnie is 5'10" and an actual French goddess. I don't like the odds here.

"You were on the cover of GQ in September, right?" she says to him now. "I remember because I had a spread in that issue. They were like BDSM type pics. Handcuffs and all. It was quite the photo shoot."

"Oh," Owen says blandly. He sounds bored. Even I don't know how he's pulling off his nonchalance. "I don't remember."

Her face falls. I suppress my smile. I love Bonnie, but I don’t think I could handle it if he went for her.

"Oh, man, you're the Senator," Drew says, coming in from outside with Vadim. They reek of weed.

Owen seems to tense at the words, and I shift from one foot to the other.

"Yup," he says.

"Dude, my dad hates you," Drew says.

"Drew," I say, spinning around to face him. "What the hell?"

"No, I mean, I'm sorry. That's rude. I have nothing against you, dude, and really, if my dad doesn't like someone, it probably means they're pretty okay. He's just..."

"An asshole," Owen says, not taking his eyes off the game playing on the TV above Drew's head. "Your dad's a world class asshole. I take it as a compliment that he's not a fan, so thanks. Also, his team is getting annihilated," he says and gestures towards the TV where a basketball team Phoenix Hart owns is down by 29 points.

"Fuck," Drew says, and everyone laughs; the moment of tension broken.

I watch Owen, impressed as always by how impenetrable his cool is. In the entire time I've known him—which is to say, my entire lifeI've only ever seen him break his rock solid exterior twice. It didn't happen during the fights he and Chris used to get into as teenagers, or the times they got way too drunk while out in their twenties. Not during his political campaigns, when the other side was airing ads filled with blatant lies about his character, or on the Senate floor while people yelled at one another across the aisle. Not even at Kaitlyn's funeral, where he somehow held it all together.

The first time I saw him falter at all was the day my father died. He had been in town and rushed to the hospital moments before they pronounced my dad dead. The second time, it was that night with me and Ryan. Well, and I guess if we are getting technical, the next morning.

I turn away from the conversation as soon as the memory swells up again—a knee jerk reaction I keep having—as though he can hear my thoughts.

We set up shop at the back of the bar. We fill the seats, sit on tables, and stand in groups that ebb and flow over the course of the night. After a while, some of my brother's friends drop by. A little while later, Stephanie's girlfriends join us as well. I steer clear of them.

As soon as Lexi gets up to go to the bathroom, Drew swoops in to sit next to me on the couch. I don't even know where he came from. I am two martinis in, and he is laying all his best charm on me. I don't know if it's because he is funny, or if I'm trying to show both myself and Owen that I am fine after our talk, but I find myself laughing at his jokes. After a while, he and I are leaning in towards one another and the distance between us on the couch has narrowed. The alcohol warms my veins now, as I focus on his brown eyes and bronzed skin. He really is lovely.

Drew is not boyfriend material; I know that much. But he also isn't Ryan, and he isn't Owen, and that's something.

“Alright,” I say to him now. “You told me good things about you. Now tell me something bad.”

"Hmm..." he says, tracing his fingers over my hand, and then up my arm. “I mean there’s so little to say.”

I roll my eyes.

“Okay, okay. Well, when I was in high school, I got arrested for shoplifting from the mall."

"Your dad owns half the state of Texas. Why were you shoplifting?"

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