a cozy hotel room.
* * *
Tara woke up for the second time that morning, the sun shining brightly into her room. To her great relief, the pain stabbing at her head didn’t feel like medieval torture anymore. Unfortunately, her mortification had only grown like one of those magic sponge animals that quadrupled in size in water. Her remorse at her reckless actions didn’t fit inside her mind, and her scalp felt stretched tightly around her head. She screamed into her pillow. It helped a little, so she did it again. Feeling marginally less likely to burst, she slowly swung her legs to the floor and stood.
No shooting pain in her temples. No dizziness. Yup. Her hangover was practically gone. Putting on her slippers, she dragged herself out to the kitchen to hydrate. Her mom had a giant jug of boricha—roasted barley tea—prepared in the fridge, and she gratefully poured out a tall glass and chugged it down.
“Hey, kiddo,” Jack said, strolling into the kitchen. “How late did you stay out last night? I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Late,” she said vaguely, hoping her brother wouldn’t push it. Because oh, I came home a couple hours ago after having a sleepover with Seth was a conversation neither of them needed to have.
As sad as it sounded, she was a twenty-eight-year-old woman with an unspoken two A.M. curfew. She knew her parents only wanted to protect their little girl, but it was absurd to have a curfew at her age, especially since her brothers hadn’t had a curfew since they were in high school. She loved her parents dearly, but some of their old-fashioned views were getting … old.
Thankfully, Jack just shrugged and poured himself a glass of boricha, too. “I can’t believe Aubrey is really married. I mean, she’s been living with Landon for a few months now, and they have Morgan, but that wedding ceremony made everything feel so official.”
“I know,” Tara sighed, feeling the hollow ache in her heart again. Cut it out already. To cheer herself up, she decided to tease Jack. He was such an easy target. He blushed and fumbled so wonderfully. He really was a sweetheart. “You know Mom and Dad secretly hoped for you and Aubrey to get together for the longest time.”
“What? That’s … ugh. What are you talking about?” he stuttered, turning a blotchy pink.
“Nothing,” she said, all innocence.
“Aubrey’s like a little sister to me. She’s like you. How could Mom and Dad…? I feel nauseous.”
“Geez, bro. Calm down. I’m just messing with you.” Tara released the laughter she was holding back, clutching her stomach.
“You’re a little brat. When are you going to grow up?” Jack tried to glare at her, but he was holding back a grin. He was also a really good sport. “You know what you deserve?”
“No.” Her laughter abruptly ceased. “Please not that. Mom told you guys not to do that anymore.”
“She did? I have no recollection of that,” her sweet oppa said as he lunged for her. He grabbed her around her midriff and used his other hand to tickle her belly.
“Ahhh. Stop. Please,” she wheezed as she giggled like a kindergartener high on cotton candy.
Alex walked in on them and stopped in his tracks. After studying the scene for a few seconds, he dashed all her hopes for help from him. “It looks like you have the situation handled, Jack. I’ll be in the garage if you need reinforcement.”
Figures. Jack and Alex were fraternal twins and they always, without fail, sided with each other. Even so, it still stung. Shrieking with tortured laughter, she yelled, “You are heartless, Alex Park. Heartless.”
“Good morning to you, too, baby sister.” With an annoyingly jaunty wave, he went on his merry way.
“Assholes, the both of you.” The insult gave her no satisfaction when it wheezed out of her in a breathless pant.
“Tara, you know better than to use such language toward your big brothers,” her mom chided as she walked into the kitchen. But she wore a wide smile, as though she found the situation hilarious but felt it was her duty as a good mom to teach her youngest how to respect her elders. Just as Tara was about to howl in frustration, her mom continued, “And Jack. Stop that. You’re thirty years old, not seven.”
He promptly released Tara and walked over to Mom to peck her on the cheek. “Sorry. I’ll do my best to remember that I’m old.”
Her mom affectionately slapped her son on the shoulder and