Page 2 of The Wrong Brother

ME:What are you up to today? Anything fun?

MINA:At the beach—Ala Moana

MINA:Wanna join?

ME:Yes please! Can I bring anything?

MINA:Snacks if you want, but don’t go to any extra effort on my account

ME:I’m always down for snacks. See you soon!

There’s that sorted! I can always count on my sister to be doing something interesting. Mina isn’t someone I’d describe as a homebody. Me, however? That fits me like a second skin. She’s more fun, more exciting, more social. Mina is simply MORE. Today in particular, I need that kind of distraction. Not that it’s only that. I genuinely like being with her. Sister time is sure to turn around this mopey mood and correct the trajectory of my weekend.

Getting ready is a quick and easy process. I had already refilled my water bottle when I got home so it’s only a matter of putting on a suit and cover-up. The cookies I baked last night—it gets wild up in here on Saturday nights—are calling to me so I grab the entire container and add them to my beach bag. I entertain the notion of walking for about one second before my aching quads remind me of the strenuous exercise I completed a mere hour ago. Loading up my surfboard gets dismissed for the same reason. I’m sore! Today feels like more of a “lazy swim then read on a towel” sort of beach trip. If I drive I’ll get there even sooner, giving me the maximum amount of sister time. I’m not seeing anything in the negative column.

I have to circle around for a solid 10 minutes before I catch someone leaving and am in a position to take their parking spot—not surprising for a weekend morning but it was a glaring oversight not to note it in the negative column. I spot my sister the moment my feet hit the sand and she sees me too, waving enthusiastically. She has a prime spot and even thought to bring an umbrella. I hug her as soon as I reach her, dropping my bag at my feet.

“I’m so glad you remembered an umbrella. Somehow I didn’t put my hat back in my go-bag before I hung it up. My pasty skin thanks you!”

She laughs, pointing at her own face. “Mine too! We should have a theme song: Haoles at the Beach!” she sing-songs terribly, making me snort. “Speaking of, would you mind getting my back?” She hands me her bottle of sunscreen and turns away from me. I’m smoothing the last of the lotion under her bikini straps when I catch sight of someone cresting the small hill from the parking lot. I think it’s the way the sun catches the warm gold waves of his long hair that grabs my attention. At first. But then I can’t stop staring, everywhere I look next is better than the last.

He’s tall and incredibly fit. Like, the drool-worthy, unreal muscles kind of fit. And both of his arms are covered with beautiful, vibrantly colored tattoos. He has a beard, which I didn’t even realize was a thing that I like, but apparently, it really is. I feel Mina turning and realize, with immediate embarrassment heating my cheeks, that I had been standing there, sunscreen forgotten, openly staring. Except it’s not that I stopped that made her turn. Oh no, it’s worse. She’s turning tohim. Because we know him. KNOW him. We’ve had sleepovers and countless family dinners and I’ve neverevernoticed him like this. SHIT. I want to tunnel into the sand and hide. I wonder if either of them would notice if I scooped up my bag, sprinted to the parking lot, and drove away. I suppose that would be even more noticeable and embarrassing than this. I have to stay.

“I see you found them,” she calls out.

He points to the sunglasses on his face. “They were on the floor, under the edge of the seat.” He turns to me and I get to see him close up after years apart. “Catherine, I didn’t know you were coming. What a great surprise!”

I don’t remember his voice being so nice. Oh shit. Now I have to speak. I have to talk and act totally normal and pretend I wasn’t just salivating over Mina’s childhood best friend. How am I supposed to do that when he’s even more gorgeous up close and his voice gives me goosebumps and he’s looking at me so earnestly? I shake my head and clear my throat, no doubt looking every bit as pathetic as I feel.

“Rafferty. Hey. Um, I didn’t know you were going to be here either.”Fantastic. You’re doing great, Catherine. Might as well remind him that you were always the dorky sister right off the bat.

“Isn’t that funny?” Mina asks, thankfully oblivious to my state of mind. “Raff and I decided to come to the beach on a whim and then you reached out randomly. I couldn’t have planned it better.”

Rafferty has taken his sunglasses off and he’s looking at me closely. I had forgotten how it always feels like he sees more than anyone else sees. Or how his eyes remind me of the color of fresh sage leaves, a soft silvery green. I don’t want him seeing me too clearly, not when I’m such a mess.

“I guess it’s a good thing I brought the whole container of cookies!” My enthusiasm is so forced I almost grimace.

“You brought cookies? Please tell me you baked them. You always made the best treats.” He smiles at me and my stomach does a little flip that is new and entirely uncalled for.

“Really? You remember that?”

“Why do you think your cookies disappeared so fast? I always took extras and would hide them so I could enjoy them as long as possible.”

I can feel myself blushing and am thankful when Mina interrupts.

“Are you 100% sure it’s notmybaking you were thinking of?”

Rafferty snorts. “No offense, Teeny, but you should never, ever bake. Do you remember the infamous brownies of 2012?”

Mina flips him off and I find myself laughing with Rafferty. “Oh my gosh, I do! They were so black and hard Mom had to throw the baking pan away with them still cemented on it!”

“Fuck you both! That wasn’t even my fault. Fordham turned off the timer and Simon distracted me.”

“Sure, blame your brothers,” Rafferty quips.

“Well, itwastheir fault. That time. I can be woman enough to admit that Catherine has always been a far better baker than I am. She’s much more patient and detail-oriented.”

“That she is,” Rafferty murmurs, making my stomach dip again. Traitorous organ. I should withhold cookies for that behavior.

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