“Yeah.” A lump formed at the base of my throat, blocking my oxygen for a moment. As my brother kept talking, so carefree now, pain sliced through me. With each word he spoke, the pain in my heart grew. Shit. Elijah and I really were done. Three years and now—that’s why it didn’t feel real to me. It felt like I was mad and just avoiding him for a weekend.

Braden continued chatting, excited to have his sister back. I could go to their practices, I could help with the band, I would have free time to hang out with him, blah, blah, blah. He kept going as I sat here, feeling as if someone was slapping me over and over again.

“Shut up.”

Braden stopped. “Huh?”

“Just...” Was there a nicer way to say this? “Shut up, okay?”

“Why?”

“Braden.” I closed my eyes for a second, wanting to just disappear and take a breather. I opened them again, but couldn’t look at him. “I loved Elijah. We’re over. Do me a favor and stop rubbing it in. I literally just told you.”

He was silent for a moment. “He deals drugs, Bri.”

“I know.” My voice rose in volume, and I flinched, grabbing hold of the steering wheel like I was going to be ripped out of the car. “I know. I’m not going back to him, but it’s hitting me for the first time here. For real. I just…” need a minute. I needed a minute.

“Okay.” He started to get out, but paused at the door.

I lifted my top lip, hoping for a reassuring smile, but when he frowned even more, I knew I had failed. Raking my hand through my long hair, I shook my head and tried to stir my thoughts. Now that we were here, I was tempted to head inside Rowdy’s and start drinking. There was a burning sensation in the middle of my chest, and the more reality was sinking in, the more painful it was becoming.

One of Braden’s eyebrows arched from confusion. Then he gestured behind him, toward the bar. “Come inside.”

“What?” I started to shake my head. Luke would be in there. Emerson, too. “No, no.”

“Yeah. I know I got all excited before, but you should come in. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

My head moved back. I harrumphed. “I won’t be alone. I have friends…” I didn’t. I’d had a couple of female friends in high school, but most of them had only used me to get to Luke or Braden. The others, who might’ve been genuine friends, had stopped hanging out with me. Well…I stopped hanging out with them. It’d all been about Elijah and his slightly creepy friends.

He snorted. “You have mom.”

I gritted my teeth. “Braden.”

“Stop it, Bri. I know you’re hurting. I can see it in your eyes. I’m sorry for being an insensitive jerk brother. Let me be your brother now.” His tone gentled. “Come inside. We’re not twenty-one, but I’ll make sure you get all the booze you want.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing a little. After Luke’s dad took off three years ago, the owner had given him a job doing whatever needed to be done around the bar. In the last few years, Luke had stopped working there, but the basement had been renovated for their practices. It was soundproofed and the manager, who took over most of the operations, didn’t mind having them down there. They could practice all they wanted since it never interfered with the bar itself.

“Come on.” Braden shut his door and rounded to mine. Opening it, he leaned inside and plucked the keys out of the ignition before I realized what he was doing.

“I don’t think I can handle Emerson tonight.”

“Nah.” He pulled me out, shut the door, and threw an arm around my shoulder. “It’s Emerson that won’t be able to handle you tonight. I mean it. You can do whatever you want, even play drums.”

He meant it as teasing, but at those words, my chest tightened again. I’d been a part of the band when they formed; half of my name was in the title, Braille. Damn, I hadn’t touched the drums in so long. Feeling the beat, pounding it out, making everyone else feel it, too, opened a whole new yearning I had tried to bury with so many other things inside me.

Three. Damn. Long. Years.

“I can’t.”

Braden studied me as he walked inside. “Yeah, well, we’ll see.” He held the door open for me. The basement stairs were in front of us, and I started down, but paused and glanced toward the bar area. Luke was heading toward us. He paused, too. Once he saw me, our gazes collided, and I tore my gaze away, hurrying downstairs.

Braden stayed back, saying his hellos to Luke, and then their voices grew quiet. I kept going, knowing they were talking about me now. Before I hit the bottom step, I heard Luke say, “Yeah, that’s fine with me.” I stopped listening and moved into the main basement area.

Emerson was already there, tuning his guitar. He glanced up, his eyes sparkling, but when he saw me, he gave the same reaction as earlier that morning. He straightened, lifting the guitar strap and placing it onto the floor. “No. Get out.”

“Fuck off, Em.” I shot him an annoyed look and went for the bar. It was more of a bookshelf cut in half and positioned so it was sticking out of the wall. A run-down refrigerator was behind it, sitting in a corner of the room with a freezer next to it. The other side of the room was where they set up the equipment on a make-shift stage made from crates and recycled doors. The rest of the basement had three couches and two dark green lounge chairs spread all over. Each couch had a cushion that was ripped at the bottom and flayed armrests.