Chapter Four

Amanda came downstairs for breakfast as late as she possibly could.

She always slept later than her friends, early bird assholes that they were. Any other day, she’d have stumbled down in her pajamas, trying for that perfect balance between effortlessly cute and yeah-I-woke-up-like-this-so-don’t-think-I’m-trying-too-hard look to make Luke notice but not notice too much. She’d hate for him to feel like he had to sit her down for an “I think of you like a sister” talk and shatter her heart.

But not today.

Today it was Doc Martens, black leggings, and a flannel top belted around her waist. She’d showered and slicked product through her hair and even committed to winged eyeliner, which took forever. But she needed all the armor she could get.

Too late, she realized her mistake. No one else had accidentally crawled into the wrong bed last night, so no one else had a monster case of mortification to live down.

Which meant they were all hanging around in the kitchen in pajama pants, Noah and Luke sweaty and tousled from their run, everyone drinking coffee, making pancakes, not a care in the world. If Amanda had wanted to seem totally normal…didn’t make out with anybody last night…wasn’t up for hours with sex on the brain—standing out like this was not the way to do it.

Luke was the first one to spy her coming down the stairs. “Whoa, where’s the fire?” He let out a whistle. “You look raring to go.”

“Just figured I’d go ahead and get dressed,” she mumbled, doing everything to avoid looking at Noah as she reached for a mug. She had no idea what her face would show—or his. Best not to find out.

But he was standing next to the coffeemaker, so there was an awkward shuffle as she pulled away from reaching for it and then had to stand there holding the mug while he didn’t pass her the pot—since that would invite things like eye contact and a possible brush of hands.

Until Luke, looking from Amanda to Noah, finally laughed, shoved his brother to the side, and grabbed it himself.

“You need like six more cups of this,” Luke told Noah as he refilled his mug. “You’re a zombie today. This was the first time in ten years I’ve been able to keep up with you on a trail run. What happened to Noah the Perfect Sleeper?”

“Guess he’s on hiatus,” Noah mumbled, turning away.

“Well, I for one am ready to carpe this diem,” she said way too loudly, holding out her mug for Luke to fill.

“Okay. Clearly aliens came to this house in the night,” Luke said. “Noah’s tired and running at normal person speeds, and suddenly you’re a morning person. What gives?”

“Must be the fresh air,” Amanda joked miserably.

Thank God Alix called out that the pancakes were ready and everyone grabbed plates before Luke could interrogate her more.

But by the time she got to the dining room, the only seat left was next to Noah. When she asked him to pass the orange juice, he looked like he was going to faint. It wasn’t like she’d said, Can I have the OJ and by the way everyone I felt Noah’s hard-on last night and let me tell you it’s massive. He didn’t have to give her that bloodless, time for a murder-suicide look before his eyes flitted away as quickly as possible, like just sharing the same air molecules with her was embarrassing.

But sitting across from Luke wasn’t any better.

He kept kicking her under the table, hitting her foot any time he wanted something—the syrup, more coffee, then a little “Hey, what’s up?” nudge when he claimed she was “a million miles away.”

“Nothing!” she chirped, trying to move her leg back.

This time yesterday, she’d have been thrilled to feel the pressure of Luke’s leg against hers. But now it felt…icky. Weird. To be all over someone when she’d just been—literally—all over his brother the night before.

She swallowed a lump of pancake before it threatened to come surging back. She turned to Sasha as quickly as possible. “Top five vacation spots for our next getaway,” she said. “Go.”

“Uh.” Sasha looked around the table. “I haven’t thought about it.”

“We could do a winter thing. Snowshoeing?”

“That sounds cold.” Alix pretended to shiver.

“I’ve never been that far upstate,” Sasha said.

“You’re not missing much,” Luke joked.

“No one’s asking you—you won’t even be here.” Amanda focused on Sasha. Laser eyes that didn’t look at either twin. “Snowshoeing, a beach thing in the summer—we could do our own Jersey Shore. Or Long Island? Rentals there are more expensive, I think. But if we get somewhere small and it’s in the off season—”

“No more caffeine for you.” Luke reached out and grabbed her mug. “You sound like you took speed this morning.”

“Excuse me, but people are talking.” She held out her hand to get her mug back. Noah scarfed down the last of his pancakes and bolted into the kitchen, like he was a saint for tackling the dishes. Thank God the rest of them started to follow and she could finish her breakfast in peace.

If Noah was going to pretend nothing happened, she could, too. Because nothing had happened.

And nothing was going to.

With either of them.

A hand landed on her shoulder, and she jumped.

“Think it’s too early for whiskey?”

She was so focused on not focusing on Luke or Noah, she’d completely zoned out. Luke must have come back from the kitchen. Now he was behind her, running his fingers over the fringes of her hair.

“It’s never too early,” she said quickly, ducking and sliding off her chair, like she was rushing to put her plate away and not because Luke’s touch was making her skin crawl.

No flirting.

It wasn’t her fault. She was trying to behave.

But after he’d ignored her all of breakfast, Noah’s eyes burned into her as she crossed the kitchen, dropped her plate in the sink, and kept walking, afraid that if she so much as glanced in his direction—

It wouldn’t matter that she hadn’t slept with either brother and wasn’t going to now.

She’d still combust.

Only she wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment and awkwardness, like she kept telling herself…

Or from something else.