taller than me,” I said with a quick smile in her direction. “When did that happen?”
My sister’s anxiety was already gone, and a wide smile stretched across her face. “I don’t know. You didn’t notice, yet you see me every day. I didn’t even realize.”
“I had to pull the seat up. Not far, but enough to know you’re taller than me now.”
I started driving again. We were on our way back from yoga class and the final planning meeting for Cammi’s wedding, which was scheduled for this coming weekend.
“The thing with ice is to never slam on your brakes,” I explained. “Always tap. You get better traction by slowing down instead of speeding up. If you feel yourself losing traction, just ease your foot off the gas pedal. That gives the tires a minute to catch. I think we should ask Flynn to do with you what he did with Grant and me.”
“What’s that?” Cat asked, her tone dripping with suspicion.
“He took us to an empty parking lot in the winter, and we drove around, practicing getting things under control after skidding. He even made us skid on purpose.”
When I slid my eyes sideways, Cat looked horrified. Her mouth was open, and her eyes were wide. “That’s insane,” she said flatly.
“Not really,” I said with a little shrug. “It’s safe because no one else is around, and you can get the feel of losing control without worrying about everybody around you. That’s how I learned to drive a stick shift.”
“Huh?”
“Because when the road is slick, if you don’t shift properly when the car stutters, you’re likely to keep rolling, so it’s easier to correct. Benefits of living in a cold place,” I added with a chuckle.
“I still think that’s insane.”
“You might think it’s fun. Grant did.”
Cat snorted. “Of course, he did.”
Cat’s phone vibrated from where it sat on the dashboard in front of her. She reached for it, then glanced at the screen. When she lowered the phone, I commented, “You can answer it. I don’t mind.”
“I know.” When she still didn’t answer her phone, I cast my eyes sideways briefly and saw the pink blooming on her cheeks.
“Who is it?” I kept my tone light.
“It’s Julian.”
“Oh?”
Cat let out a put-upon sigh. “Fine. We might be dating.”
“Um, I didn’t even ask if you were dating.” My lips twitched, but I resisted the urge to smile. Cat wouldn’t appreciate that.
“I know, but you were about to.”
“Well, I like Julian,” I said quickly. “Doesn’t he work for the Winters brothers in the summer?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I thought you were already friends. Or am I confused?” I pressed.
The truth was, I was shameless when it came to Cat and dating. She had a sketchy experience with one guy who tried to pressure her, and then her last boyfriend cheated on her. She was already working up to be cynical about relationships, and I didn’t want that to happen to her.
“Yeah, we’re friends. Or maybe more.” Cat sounded young and vulnerable. Even though she was only seventeen, she rarely sounded vulnerable. My heart pinched.
“I don’t understand how to do the dating thing,” she added.
I reached over and squeezed her hand quickly, where it rested on her thigh, before releasing it. “It might seem like other people know what they’re doing, but they usually don’t. Not at that age. Even when we get older, most of us are just stumbling around trying to figure things out.”
“Like you and Gabriel?”
She caught me there. I’d walked right into that one.
I laughed softly, ignoring the stinging burn over my heart. “Point taken. Before you completely shut me out of this conversation, I want to say one thing. Just because some guys are assholes doesn’t mean everyone is. It’s worth trying again.”
“You mean like Dad was an asshole?” Her tone was quiet and almost hesitant, so uncharacteristic of my little sister.
I whipped my gaze to hers as I came to a jerking stop at a stoplight before we turned onto the highway that would lead us home.
“What do you mean?” Somehow, I’d convinced myself that Cat hadn’t been as affected by our father’s unreliable presence in our lives—not to the extent that Flynn, Grant, and I had. She’d been so young when he died.
“I know you guys think I didn’t notice, but of course, I did. Mom was always crying. It was usually better when he wasn’t around. First, Mom would be all mopey. Then she’d get over it and be more like herself. Until he would show up again and make