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  indicating she’s not at all angry.

  I immediately jump up anyhow, crossing the kitchen to kiss her on the cheek. “No ma’am.”

  She swats me on the arm. “Don’t you forget your manners just because you’re rich and famous now.”

  I grab my sister’s toast from her hand before she can object and shove half of it in my mouth, jumping backwards when she tries to hit me. “He doesn’t have any manners!” Annie yells.

  “I have tons of manners,” I protest, but it comes out more like mmph-mmph-mmph because my mouth is full of bread.

  “You’re so gross,” Annie says.

  “Your son’s angling to be the rich one,” I say, glancing at Noah, who’s apparently too engrossed with what he’s doing on his tablet to pay attention to us. “I settled for my contract already.”

  “He says he settled,” Mama Ashby says, rolling her eyes. She passes me in the kitchen, swatting me on the ass with a wooden spoon. “We should all be as lucky to ‘settle’ for getting paid millions of dollars to do what we love.”

  “That did sound spoiled, didn’t it?” I ask, laughing.

  “Uh, yeah,” Annie says. “Where’s my birthday present, anyway?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lie.

  “You stole my toast and now you’re reneging on my birthday present? Some older brother you are.”

  “You’re awful quiet over there, Noah,” Mama Ashby notes. Noah looks up from his tablet and grunts before swiping something on the screen. When I cross the room to grab Annie’s gift from my bag, Noah tosses me a dirty look, obviously still pissy about the whole Grace situation.

  I should ignore it, but what can I say? I’m an overgrown child and I like pushing Noah's buttons. “He’s just in a mood lately.”

  Now Noah gives me an even angrier look. “No reason I can think of for that.”

  “Are you two getting on each other’s nerves being roommates?” Mama Ashby asks absently as she reaches into the cupboard for dinner plates and hands them to Annie. “You’re only staying with him until your renovations are done. Right, Aiden?”

  “Yeah, if I don’t kill him first,” Noah growls.

  “The two of you have always been so close, but you’ve also always been at each other’s throats,” the woman notes. “Everything is a competition with you boys.”

  Noah makes a grunting sound from the sofa. "Nothing's changed," he says bitterly.

  Noah and I have known each other our whole lives. Even before the Ashbys took Annie and I in, we were best friends. But our version of friendship has always involved a shitload of competition. It's that competition that drove us to be great at football.

  Despite being competitive in sports, Noah and I have never gone after the same girl. We’ve never had a reason to before. I’ve been perfectly happy with the girls I hook up with – mostly hot chicks just looking for a good time and nothing else. It’s not that I’m a player; it’s just that I’ve never much seen any reason to tie myself to one woman. I’d rather keep my options open.

  Of course, I’ve never exactly been interested in a girl like Grace Sullivan before, either. She’s way out of my league, that’s for sure – leagues above any of the women I’ve ever hooked up with – smarter, prettier, and just a hell of a lot classier.

  Plus, she’s uptight and everyone knows that uptight girls are the wildest in bed. They just need a little push. And I’m the one to give her that push.

  Unlike Noah. On the surface, he seems like he’d be more Grace's type – nerdy, smart, and way too damn serious – but that’s exactly why he’s not right for her. Besides, I can’t even remember the last time he got with a girl. He’s obsessed with football. There’s “work hard, play hard” - that’s my philosophy - and then there’s “work all the fucking time,” which is Noah’s life’s motto.

  A girl like Grace Sullivan needs someone to help her let loose. So, competition? In my eyes, there’s no competition. This race is already won.

  Mama Ashby eyes me skeptically. “What are you two competing over? You’re off-season and you’ve already signed a contract.”

  “Is that my present?” Annie interrupts, unknowingly letting me dodge a bullet with Noah’s mom right there. She doesn’t wait for me to say yes before she grabs the folder out of my hands and flips it open.

  “Okay, help yourself,” I say sarcastically.

  Annie looks down at the folder and then up at me. “No way.”

  “That's not the real thing,” I explain. “The travel agent just gave me that so I’d have something to give to you so it would be less lame than just saying, ‘Here, I got you a plane ticket.’”

  “A plane ticket? Where’s he sending you?” Bess asks, her hand on her hip.

  “Europe!” Annie runs at me, slamming into me and throwing her arms around my neck before I can respond.

  “I guess you're happy about it?"

  “Are you serious? It’s like an open-ended ticket!” Annie yells. “Did you tell him to get it, Noah?”

  Noah grins for the first time since we got here. “I didn’t. But I’m glad he saw reason and got it for you. You’ll have a great time.”

  “Oh my God. I have to call Lucas and Avery. They’re going to be so stoked. They’re leaving in three weeks. Shit. The restaurant’s not going to let me go.”

  “I already talked to your manager,” I tell her. “Besides, you’re going into senior year. You shouldn’t be working at a restaurant. You’re supposed to get something work-study, or at least something that’s going to help you get a job after college. That's what Noah tells me, and you should listen to him since he graduated magna whatever-the-fuck.”

  “Watch your language!” Bess yells. “Just because you’re all grown up, doesn’t mean you can drop the f-word in my house.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I reply, hanging my head.

  “Magna cum laude,” Noah corrects.

  I snort at the word cum.

  “Thanks, Aiden!” Annie squeals, already across the living room and heading for the front door with her phone in her hand. She flings open the front door, nearly bowling over Noah’s dad Paul. She gives him a one-armed hug, her phone pressed to her ear.

  “Where are you off to, girl?” Paul asks.

  “Europe!” she exclaims before bouncing out the door.

  Paul raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, slipping off his work boots. He’s still in his coveralls from the shop, grease slicks down his tattooed forearms. When he makes it into the kitchen, he heads straight for Bess, the way he always does.

  Bess laughs as he half-slips an arm around her waist, swatting him away playfully. “Get your grubby hands off me. Go wash up.”

  “You’re lucky I don’t leave a grease-stained handprint on your ass, woman.”

  Bess gasps in mock surprise and hits him with a dishtowel. “Paul Ashby, what’s gotten into you?”

  Paul turns to me. “Your sister’s going to Europe with pink hair?"

  I shrug. “She’s twenty-one now. It’s not like I can argue with her. She wanted to go for two months with her friends.”

  Paul shakes his head, sighing exaggeratedly. “You kids," he says. He looks across the room at Noah. "What are you doing over there ignoring everyone?"

  "I was going to say hi, but you didn't let me get a word in edgewise," Noah says.

  "These two are fighting about something," Bess says, giving Paul a look.

  "No one's fighting about anything," Noah roars.

  Bess raises her eyebrows. "Uh-huh."

  "Oh, Lord." Paul rolls his eyes. "Don't break anything."

  "We're not going to get injured," I assure him.

  "I wasn't worried about you two. I was worried about my furniture."

  "Thanks for the concern, dad," Noah calls as his father heads off to clean up.

  Paul and Bess are fixtures in West Bend, Colorado. They were born and raised here, and Paul has been running the only auto repair shop around for thirty miles since