He groaned, his lip curling in distaste. “I hate when you use my full name. Besides, I think we both know if there’s an Evans sibling who’s going to be recorded saying something dumb, it’s probably Addy.”
I laughed at that. “I would’ve thought so, too… But here I am.”
Finn shook his head, the humor in his face sliding away. “You told her you loved her… that’s not dumb. That’s brave.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “Unfortunately, I don’t think it can ever work between us.”
Finn reached into the glass case and filled the donut tray that had emptied with the first busy wave of customers this morning. “Then you didn’t see what I saw today. She’s so fucking in love with you. She’s coming out of her skin, not knowing what to do without you.”
“Yeah,” my voice was raspy. I knew his words were meant to soothe my broken heart, but if anything, they just made it worse. “That’s sort of the problem. I think I became her life preserver. I was a flotation device tossed to her in the middle of a riptide when she was drowning and now? She’s still clinging to me. Not because she loves me, but because she’s afraid if she lets go, she’ll drown.”
We worked silently for a minute before Finn said, “You know… it’s okay to need someone."
I rolled my eyes. “That’s not love. That’s co-dependency.”
“Sure. If it’s all the time. But occasionally leaning on someone you love isn’t a bad thing.”
“I know. But this is different. Chloe won’t let herself be in love with me—be in a relationship with me—because she’s so scared of losing what we have. Because she needs me.” I spat the word like it was snake venom.
“Aren’t you scared of losing what you have?”
“Of course I am. But the reward is greater than the risk, in my opinion.”
Finn’s face jerked, shifting in thought—as though he had a lot to add—but he didn’t speak. He simply organized the donuts with that expression in silence.
“Come on,” I grunted. “Out with it.”
“Nah. You’re my big brother. I’m on your side.”
“You’re on my side… but you disagree with me?”
He shrugged. “Does it matter if I agree with you or not?”
Maybe it shouldn’t matter, but it did. Suddenly, I burned with the need to know what he was thinking. “Come on,” I prodded. “Tell me.”
Finn sighed heavily. “I just think that, yes—maybe you’re right, and Chloe has something to learn about being less co-dependent. There’s also the possibility that you have something to learn about allowing yourself to need others. She’s been good for you. She doesn’t wait for you to ask for help, because I think she knows you never will. She just jumps in. Like coming to the hospital for Mom.”
“And leaving me there when things got too emotional.”
He threw his hands up in surrender. “I’m not saying she’s flawless. I agree she has things to work on. But maybe you do, too. If you’d stop being so self-righteous long enough to see that her way isn’t all bad… then maybe you can meet in the middle.” He became really quiet, straightening the same damn donut in the case for the millionth time. “It’s rare you meet someone like Chloe. Someone who wears their raw emotions on their sleeve; someone who isn’t afraid to lean on the people they love.”
Yeah, she wore all her emotions on her sleeve… except for love. She wouldn’t let herself love me.
Finn clicked the TV off as a customer came in—a younger woman with an older woman. A bride and her mother, if I had to guess.
He leaned into me, making sure they couldn’t hear him before he whispered, “And for God’s sake, it’s okay to ask for help sometimes.”
That evening, I arrived at Beefcakes after my nap. The food truck was parked in its usual spot, out front.
I was a bundle of nerves. Would Chloe show up tonight? She hadn’t texted me all day since leaving Beefcakes, and I was feeling withdrawal symptoms. I found myself staring at her pictures on Instagram, wishing I could call her, hear her voice… and hold her.
I pulled my car into a parking spot beside the food truck just as Addy, Finn, and Mom were walking out of the bakery. In their arms, they cradled boxes of our baked goods, transporting them from the kitchen to the truck. They smiled when they saw me getting out of my car and shutting the door.
“There he is,” Mom said, pausing to kiss me on the cheek.
“What—what are you all doing here?” I followed them inside the truck and watched as they put away the food I had baked this morning.
Addy rolled her eyes. “What does it look like?”
“It looks like you’re doing my job.”
“Ding, ding, ding!” Addy sang, and tossed her hands into the air. “Tell him what he’s won, Finn!”
Finn held a cruller in his hand and held it up to his mouth like a microphone, speaking in a terrible radio DJ voice. “Well, Addy, our dearest brother has won an all-expenses paid vacation to his own living room! The trip will include mindless television, flannel pajama pants, and a much needed eight hours of sleep. All he has to do…”
Addy beat her hands against the counter in a mock drumroll.
“… is ask for help!”
Together, they clapped and held their jazz hands out in a final pose.
I scrunched my nose and pointed to the cruller in Finn’s hand. “You know I can’t sell that one now. You breathed all over it.”
Addy rolled her eyes toward Finn and Mom. “Told you that wouldn’t work.”
Mom crossed over to me and smoothed my mussed hair. “We’re all worried about you. Finn and Addy will be here to run the truck. And you can take an extra night off.”
Except I didn’t want a night off. I wanted the distraction. I wanted to pretend everything was normal and fine. “I don’t need a night off. It’s
