Page 87 of Holding On To Good

He winced—both at her word choices and the discussion in general. “How about we talk about Miles’s sex life now?”

Miles smiled, smug and cocky. “No one has that kind of time. Besides, it’d just make you and the Tatted Chef here jealous.”

Verity shuddered in teenage revulsion. “Ugh. I’d rather not talk about any of my brothers’ sex lives, but that’s what happens when you all are left to your own devices. If I don’t intervene and just let these two halfwits tell you what to do, you’ll ruin everything.”

Toby tapped two fingertips against his temple. “Full wits up here. But you got Miles right. Besides,” he continued, angling his head at Urban, “I think it’s too late for advice. Looks to me like he already screwed things up.”

Urban frowned at his empty plate. Purposely slid the butter knife to the middle of the table, if only so he wouldn’t be tempted to cut off Toby’s scraggly ponytail and shove it in his big mouth.

“Oh, no,” Verity said, sending him a look of alarm. “Toby’s right. You look guilty. What happened? What did you do?”

“Nothing.” He scratched his forearm. “I just…” He stopped and cleared his throat. Lowered his voice. “I kissed Willow.” He thought of that brief brushing of his lips against hers. “Sort of.”

As soon as he said the words, he regretted it, because while Verity frowned at him, his brothers looked downright giddy at this new information.

And their giddiness meant they were going to make his life a living hell.

“How does one sort of kiss someone?” Verity asked.

His neck warmed. Shit. He was blushing like a preteen. “It was… brief. And then we were interrupted.”

“By what?”

“Not what. Who. Miranda.”

Silence descended over the booth. It was a goddamn miracle.

A short-lived one.

“Your high school sweetheart?” Verity asked, eyes wide as if Miranda had returned from the great beyond. “The girl who trashed your heart and ruined you for all future relationships?”

“Don’t you need to get back to work?” he asked his sister.

“And leave you floundering at this most important juncture of your life?” she asked, horrified. “Your relationship with Willow—no. Your entire future is at stake here. I couldn’t just” —she waved her arms wildly— “abandon you.”

“Yeah,” Miles piped up, finishing his fries, his expression gleeful, mouth curved. “We’re here for you.”

“Okay, so let me make sure I have this straight.” Verity turned toward him, bending one leg and tucking it under the other. “You were sort of kissing Willow when your old high school girlfriend shows up. What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

She blinked. Blinked again. “I’m sorry, did you say nothing?” Before he could answer, she looked at Miles and Toby. “Did he say he did nothing?”

“That’s what I heard,” Miles said cheerfully, while Toby nodded, not bothering to hide his grin.

“Oh, my god,” Verity breathed. “Did you invite Miranda over? Are you two, like, getting back together?”

“No.” He and Miranda were ancient history.

Even if Miranda might not seem to realize it.

“Did you tell Willow that?” Verity asked.

“She took off before I could tell her anything.”

She’d run from him.

Again.

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