“Yeah,” she whispers, her gaze dipping to my chest before coming back to my face. “Didn’t realize what I’d done until it was too late. Kids do stupid shit sometimes, Mello.” She ticks her head toward the hallway where Luna and Rosie are. “Even good kids like your cousins.”

  “They’re not kids anymore, Arlo. At some point, they have to grow up.”

  “Rosie is sober.”

  I nod slowly. “She’s slightly more responsible than her sister, but they’ve both been pulling shit for years.”

  Way too many years for my liking. If Uncle Joe and Aunt Suzy had any clue, these two would’ve been grounded most of their high school years. But now, they’re older, wilder, and usually no more smarter in their decision-making process.

  “Well—” Arlo places her palms flat on my pecs, totally feeling me up, but pretending she isn’t “—maybe you need to step into their life and set them straight or tell their parents about who their daughters really are.”

  I turn my head to the side, sucking in air between my teeth. “Can’t snitch, babe. My family does not snitch on one another, especially not the cousins.”

  She slides forward right over my dick that’s aching for some relief but knows we’re getting none. “Then you’re going to have to be the one to show them the way, or at least tell Gigi, so she can handle them and put them on the right path.”

  “Fuck,” I hiss, hating the idea of getting involved in their bullshit.

  I have always been good with women, but my cousins are another breed. I am stepping out of my comfort zone, never having had to deal with sisters. That is the good thing about only having Trace. He is an asshole, but I know how he thinks since he has a dick too.

  The bathroom door opens, and Arlo gives me a look. The same look my mother gives me when she’s telling me to do something without actually saying the words.

  A second later, Arlo’s weight shifts, and the warmth of her body is gone as she moves to the cushion next to me.

  “Out here,” I call out before they have a chance to disappear into one of my guest rooms like they have in the past.

  “But Luna should…”

  “Out here,” I growl, not even bothering to turn around to look at them. “We need to talk.”

  “Fucking great,” Luna groans. “Just what I fuckin’ need.”

  I bite my lip, tilting my head, feeling the tension rise in my shoulders. Arlo touches my hand with hers, giving my fingers a light squeeze.

  “Calm,” she whispers.

  Calm? I have always been calm, and that’s why I am still dealing with their shit nearly five years later.

  This must be a sliver of what it feels like to have kids and deal with their nonsense on a daily basis. Am I built for this type of responsibility, disappointment, and heartache? I’m not sure the answer is yes.

  Luna’s still leaning on Rosie as they walk slowly into the living room, their eyes moving from Arlo to me and back to Arlo.

  “Sit,” I bite out, done with their shit.

  “What?” Luna snaps before her ass even touches the couch cushion directly across from me. “I’m tired and need to sleep.”

  “Fuck that,” I hiss.

  “God, you’re such a downer. Find yourself an innocent snatch, and you turn into a killjoy.”

  What the fuck?

  My body rises on its own, her words fueling a fire deep inside me, but before I have a chance to lunge over the coffee table, Arlo yanks me back down.

  “Carmello,” she whispers, holding on to me tightly.

  I take a deep breath, running my other hand down my sweatpants so I don’t reach over the coffee table and—

  Fuck, what the hell do you do when you have girls?

  As a boy, growing up Caldo, if we talked shit, my dad would call us out. And if we continued, that’s when things went south in a hurry.

  He didn’t hesitate to let us know he could beat us to a pulp if he wanted, but he never did.

  The fear was there and felt very real, but not once did he lay his hands on us.

  We knew enough to put our attitudes away and beg for forgiveness. This clearly isn’t a skill my two little cousins have learned.

  “Talk, and make it good,” I tell them, relaxing back into the couch with Arlo at my side and our hands locked together.

  “Well, Luna met this biker,” Rosie says, and I squeeze my eyes shut, praying for patience.

  20

  “Oh dear,” Arlo whispers, covering her mouth with one hand and leaning forward, totally invested in the story Rosie’s still telling a half hour later.

  “You going to keep dancing around the truth?” I ask her as I open my eyes and narrow them on her and her drunk-ass sister.

  Rosie’s eyes widen. “I’m telling you the truth,” she sasses, when she has no room to sass.

  Fucking girls, man.

  They’re the worst.

  Guys get a bad rap, but we’re at least up front about our shitty behavior. Not girls, though.

  I cock my head and cross my arms over my chest, trying to remain calm, but I’m close to snapping. “You’re taking the long road to get to the final destination.”

  “Just tell him so I can sleep,” Luna begs, leaning over and staring at her legs. “He’s going to find out anyway.”

  I turn my head the other way, cocking it to the right side. “And how will I find out?”

  Luna shrugs. “Small-town bullshit,” she mutters and lifts her head, looking like absolute shit.

  My cousins are beautiful, but right now, they look like they partied too hard, which they did. The path they are going down is bad, and somehow, I’ve been tasked with getting their shit together when mine isn’t even tight.

  Fucking ridiculous.

  “Maybe you should wait until you’re back on campus to act like idiots. Then you wouldn’t be on my couch, asking for me to give you shelter and lie for your asses.”

  Rosie rolls her eyes. “We don’t ask for much.”

  My entire body tenses. I take a deep breath, reminding myself these aren’t my kids. “How many times have I shown up at your door after midnight asking the same?”

  Rosie chews on her lip but doesn’t take her eyes off me. “You’re right. We’re selfish assholes.”

  “Damn fucking straight, I’m right.”

  Arlo puts her hand on my knee, but she doesn’t look back at me, keeping her body facing my cousins.

  It’s a silent gesture to remind me to keep that damn calm I’ve never been good at keeping and probably never will be.

  “Go on,” Arlo tells Rosie. “We’re not here to judge you.”

  I twist my lips, keeping them shut. Rosie’s gaze moves from Arlo to me, and she’s expecting me to say something, but I don’t.

  “Fine,” she breathes and rubs at her eyes with her palms. “We went to a party down by the caves.”

  I grunt, knowing the spot all too well.

  Rosie’s eyes are on me again, but I stay silent, letting her talk. “We brought a six-pack to split, promising we wouldn’t drink any more than that. This is the last place we wanted to end up tonight.”

  “Then what happened?” Arlo asks before I can say something completely sarcastic.

  “We had two beers each, and Luna had been flirting with this guy.”

  “He was hot,” Luna adds, swaying next to her sister with a lopsided grin.

  “Luna, shut it,” Rosie tells her, pushing her with her shoulder, making her lean to the other side of the couch before she goes on. “Anyway, I walked off for a few minutes to talk to some old friends, leaving Luna with the hot biker guy.”

  “Dumb,” I mutter under my breath.

  Rosie shakes her head. “When I came back, she told me she was having some punch, but she was acting funny. She offered me her cup and I coated my lips without taking a sip, and I knew. I fucking knew she was going to be wasted.”

  “Well, you were right. She’s wasted.”

  “I know,” Rosie says, but at least there’s remorse in her voice this time.

  “I tried to dump it out, but Luna flipped out, taking the cup from my hands and downing the entire thing in one giant gulp.”

  “It was fruit punch. What’s the big deal?” Luna asks, not even able to keep her eyes open anymore.

  I hope like hell she’ll pay for her behavior tomorrow. She isn’t blameless. If Rosie could smell the alcohol, so could Luna, but she didn’t care. She deserves a wicked hangover and to be around our loud-ass family while dealing with it, too.

  “It had a splash of fruit punch,” Rosie tells her.

  Luna shrugs. “Whatever,” she mumbles. “It tasted good.”

  “Don’t listen to her. She’s not thinking right.” Rosie excuses her sister’s behavior, something she’s done a lot of in her life.

  I understand them, though. They are twins like Rocco and me. We always have each other’s back…always. I don’t care what he does wrong; I will never turn on him and will do whatever I can to shield him from bad, just like he’s done for me. That’s how the twin life is and always will be.

  “I’m not entirely convinced they didn’t slip something else into the drink either. She was way too shit-faced for the amount of time I was gone. It couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes, and Luna has a higher tolerance than that.”

  “They may have drugged her,” Arlo agrees, her hand tightening on my knee, sensing my mood change.

  “Fuck,” I hiss, my anger shifting from the two dumbasses in front of me to whoever slipped something into my cousin’s drink.

  “Don’t do anything,” Rosie tells me. “They’re not worth the hassle.”

  I lean forward and grind my teeth together as I stare at my cute little cousin who wants to grow up way too fast. “You don’t fuck with a Gallo and get away with that shit, Rosie. You can fuck with the men, but fuck with one of our women, and there are going to be issues.”

  “No,” she snaps. “That’s not fair. Luna fucked up. She knows better than to take a drink from a stranger. And I didn’t recognize the guy. I’d never seen him before, and finding him probably won’t be easy.”

  “Small town, Rosie. If he was there, someone invited him, and I’ll have no problem tracking him.”

  Arlo’s face pales as she turns to look at me. “Carmello,” she whispers, begging me not to do what I want to do.

  “Arlo, it’s a family matter and a decision I won’t and can’t make alone.”

  “I don’t want to visit you in jail or the morgue,” she says, her eyes filled with fear.

  “Sugar,” I say, lifting her hand to my lips. “I promise that won’t happen.”

  “Can I go to sleep now?” Luna asks, slumped over on the cushion next to her, hardly even awake now.

  “No,” I tell Luna, turning back toward Rosie, who’s barely moving. “Keep talking.”

  “You can be mad at Luna for being stupid, but being this messed up isn’t her fault, Mello. We made a pact to keep our noses clean this summer, saving the hard stuff for campus. I swear to God, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You believe me, don’t you?”

  I stare at my cousin, having known her since the day she took her first breath. She’s never lied to me, always coming clean when she fucks up, and I can read her tells after twenty years. “I believe you.”

  “Phew,” she wheezes, her shoulders slumping forward. “God, you’re worse than Dad.”

  “Rosie, you have your dad wrapped around your finger. If he knew…”

  “He can never,” she whispers. “Promise me.”

  “A façade only lasts so long before it crumbles.”

  Arlo yawns and covers her mouth. “Maybe we should get some sleep and finish this talk in the morning when we’re all coherent.”

  Rosie stares at me, pleading with me with her eyes.

  “Yeah. Fine. I’m exhausted. Tomorrow, we’ll talk to Luna when she’s more with it, and then we’ll go to Grandma’s. But—” I point a finger at Rosie “—you call or text your parents where you are so they’re not worried.”

  “Already done,” she says, glancing down.

  Arlo reaches over and grabs my hand before standing. “Come on, honey. We could all use some rest.”

  I’m on my feet, letting her guide me away from the couch, but I stop before I get too far. “Need help getting her to bed?”

  “No.” Rosie stands, pushing Luna over and lifting her legs onto the couch. “She can sleep here tonight. I’m not sharing a bed with her. She’s a kicker, and I don’t want to be all bruised tomorrow.”

  Arlo chuckles behind me, and I shake my head at my cousin. “You know where everything is. Talk tomorrow. Night, kid.”

  “Night, Mello. Thank you and I love you.”

  “Love you too, Rosie.”

  She exhales, looking more relaxed, and for a moment, I feel bad about being so harsh on her, but then I remember the numerous times this has happened before.

  “Night, Arlo,” Rosie says softly, walking behind us down the hallway to the bedrooms.

  “Night, babe,” Arlo returns before yanking me into the bedroom.

  She closes the door and leaps into my arms, wrapping her legs around me. Her hands are on my face, holding my cheeks. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “For what?” I laugh, looking at my girl like she’s fucking nutty.

  “You sounded so adult out there. You stayed pretty level-headed and handled them well.”

  “If you hadn’t been here…” My words die when her lips collide with mine, the force with which she takes my mouth pushing me backward.

  I fall onto the bed, landing on my back with her on top of me, luckily moving her legs as we go down so I don’t crush them under my weight.

  “You’d be an awesome dad,” she whispers against my lips.

  “I don’t want girls,” I tell her, sliding my hands underneath the T-shirt she put on earlier. “Never girls.”

  “Don’t say that. Girls can be great too.”

  “When?”

  She laughs, and it’s a beautiful sound. “When they’re little.”

  “Yeah, then they grow up and turn into them.”

  “So, you mean a female version of you, but prettier.”

  “Exactly,” I groan.

  Her lips come down softly on mine, nipping at my bottom lip. “It’s a shame our evening was interrupted.”

  My fingers sweep under her breast. “We can pick up right where we left off.”

  “No,” she says, climbing off me, leaving me with wood. “Not with the girls here.”

  “I’m back to being pissed at them.”

  Arlo laughs again, curling back into my side. “There’s always tomorrow, honey,” she whispers as I reach up, turning off the lamp on my nightstand.

  “Tell my dick that, sugar.”

  She sits up, bringing her mouth right above my cock. “Tomorrow, little guy.”

  Little guy?

  I know she hasn’t seen my dick up close and personal in the bare flesh, but nothing about it is little. The outline is clear as day in my gray sweatpants, and the woman has practically ridden on me, dry humping me just a few nights ago.

  “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa,” I warn her. “Never, don’t ever, call him ‘little guy.’ Instant boner killer.”

  She peers up my body, a wicked grin on her face. “Then my business here is done.”

  I place my hands at her sides, pulling her back against me. “Women are cruel creatures.”

  “We can be,” she says, smiling against the skin of my chest, dragging those fingernails across my abdomen. “But sometimes the torture can be delicious.”

  “I’ll remember you said that next time we’re alone.”

  She tips her head back, biting her lip. “I look forward to it, honey.”

  “Go to sleep, Arlo.”

  She shifts, coming in for another kiss, and I give her my mouth one last time.

  “Night, honey.”

  “Night, sugar.”

  But I don’t fall asleep. I lie there for what feels like hours, thinking about my dick, Arlo, and whose ass I need to beat for getting Luna all fucked up.

  The night is long, but I worry tomorrow will be longer.

  “I need ibuprofen,” Luna says, walking into the kitchen after peeling her body off the couch. Her eyes are barely open, the sunshine clearly too much for her hungover ass to handle.

  “You know where it is,” I reply, standing next to Arlo and prepping the toast for breakfast as she scrambles the eggs.

  “Oh God,” Luna whines. “Eggs are not a smell I want right now.”

  “You’re going to eat something and get your ass right before we go to Grandma’s.”

  “I need to go home and change.”

  “Not looking like that,” I tell her.

  “He’s right,” Rosie adds, sitting at the kitchen table, having watched and talked to us for the last thirty minutes while she sipped her coffee. “If Mom or Dad sees you right now…”

  “Fuck,” Luna hisses and grabs her head. “What the hell did I have last night?”

  “A hot biker.” Rosie throws out there.

  Luna’s hands drop to her sides, and her eyes widen. “Did I—”

  “No. You didn’t sleep with him, but do you remember the fruit punch he gave you?”

  Luna blinks, staring across the room at her sister, still in a haze. “Kinda.”

  “Well, I think it was spiked with more than booze.”

  “Shit,” Luna snaps and crumples forward, resting her elbows on the countertop below the cabinet where I store the ibuprofen. “No wonder I feel like death.”

  “Ibuprofen, food, and a hot shower should help you feel slightly better, but it’s going to be a rough day, Lun. You better lie low at Gram’s and stay outside where it’s quieter.”

  “I can’t be inside with everyone.”

  “Don’t stick around anyone too long because the booze is still coming out of your pores,” I tell her, wrinkling my nose.

  “Fuck off,” she teases, lifting the middle finger closest to me in the air.

  “Eggs are almost ready,” Arlo announces. “Toast done?”

  “Done, and bacon is on the table,” I reply. “Rosie, grab some plates and silverware.”