Page 54 of Best Served Cold

But Dottie continues toward us without paying them any attention. My brother stands frozen in place as she slips a stone into his pocket and then lifts a hand to his cheek, giving him an actual love tap.

“There, now. If that doesn’t improve your energy, then I don’t deserve to call myself a crystal specialist. Try rubbing it for five minutes each evening and meditating. We’ll see what that does for your emotional stamina.”

Hannah starts snort-laughing, someone catcalls an insult, and a paper airplane soars through the air and hits Jonah in the cheek. He swats it down, but not before I see that it’s one of the STD flyers.

This situation is getting wildly out of control.

My brother looks like he’s about to blow an eye vessel. “Enjoy my leftovers, brother,” he says, his jaw clenching. “But you’re going to realize it’s not worth what you just lost. She’s vanilla in bed.”

I hear the glass slip from Sophie’s fingers, little sharp shards scattering across the floor as it explodes.

I start to lunge toward the door, rage eclipsing sense, but Sophie slips her hand into mine and holds on, her grip surprisingly strong. “Don’t.He’s baiting you.”

“You’re banned,” Dylan calls out, losing his cool for the first time. He stalks toward the door, and Jonah, wide-eyed, backs away, his ass hitting the glass. Turning slightly to look at me, Dylan asks, “Do you want me to call the cops? You could have him arrested for assault.”

“No,” I say. “Fair is fair. I punched him a few weeks ago.”

Dylan sighs, shifting his weight, and gives Jonah his attention again. “Don’t come back here. If I ever see you in here again?—”

“That man kisses like a dead fish,” Hannah calls out as Jonah opens the door to the warm night. “And he’s a bad tipper.”

“He’s rude to elderly people,” Briar adds. “And he doesn’t know much about beer.”

Then the night swallows him, the door closing behind him. We’re inside while he’s left outside, a position I have never been in before with my brother. It’s always been the other way around—me excluded, him treated like a golden god. I don’t know what to do with myself. And now, Sophie’s hand is in mine. Not Jonah’s, but mine.

Ignoring the noise that’s broken out all around us, I turn toward her.

“I’m sorry,” she says in a feverish voice as she lifts her free hand to my painful face.

“There she goes again,” I tease. “Does my nose look crooked?”

“I can’t tell.”

“It would be a good time for you to roll out some of that Pollyanna charm.”

Her mouth tips into a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “You look very handsome with a somewhat crooked nose, but Inevershould have done that without asking. I didn’t mean to. I just thought…I really wanted to get back at Jonah, and I also hoped it might help you with your problem. You said they would be more likely to approve your application if they thought you were in a serious relationship.”

My heart starts beating faster, something like hope rising inside of me, a feeling I don’t want to attach any expectations to. From my experience, hope can plummet fast. “You’d do that for me?” I lower my voice to a whisper. “Pretend to be my girlfriend?”

You’d be lying, a voice in my head whispers. More lies. Deeper ones.

“Of course,” she says, her eyes wide. “And Emil. I can’t believe Jonah tried to stop you from helping him. I want to make that right, and to be perfectly honest, I also want to piss Jonah off. He deserves to be upset, don’t you think? He shouldn’t be able to do whatever he wants and get away with it.”

“I won’t disagree with you there. For how long?”

She squeezes my hand. “We’ll figure that out later. You know, I don’t understand what I ever saw in that…” She pauses, as if searching for a word that can adequately explain my brother. “Imbecilic asshole.”

“You and me both, sister,” Hannah murmurs, reminding me again that there are other people around us. A lot of them.

I glance around, finding the brewery full of confusion. Someone’s sweeping up the glass, thankfully. Travis and Bixbyare still on the stage, giving mewhat the fuck?looks. Understandable. I just got punched in the face. My hand is fine, given that I didn’t fight back much, but I don’t feel up to performing tonight anymore. I’m guessing Dylan doesn’t much want me up there like this either.

My gaze finds Sophie’s again. “You saw the best sides of him. You see the best in everyone.”

Something warms in her eyes, and suddenly everyone else is gone again. No, not gone. They’re in black and white and she’s in warm, pulsing color—her dress and lips that perfect shade of red, her eyes oceans of blue that a man could lose himself in—and a sense of awe envelops me. She was here, all along, and I didn’t notice.

Well, now I’m noticing. I can’t seem to stop.

She holds my gaze for several long seconds, the connection feeling like my fingers strumming the strings of my guitar, and then looks away.

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