Mister Dick

I nodded. “And Lyric. We have a group chat.” We didn’t. We kept in touch, but it didn’t go as far as that. In truth, after our parents split, I didn’t see any of the Mansfield girls for a couple of years. Then, after a show I did in Nashville—as the opening act for their father, Axel—Harmony had popped backstage and we’d gone for drinks. The girl was funny as hell, smart as a whip, and one hundred percent certifiable. She didn’t hold any kind of grudge, and we pretty much continued where we’d left off. We slipped back into being the sort of siblings we’d been for about a minute. Until Echo g

ot involved and our parents split.

But Harmony wasn’t Echo. And Echo sure as hell held a grudge.

She looked away, and I watched her closely, curious as hell in spite of my I-don’t-give-a-fuck-about-her stance.

“What did you do this time?” I asked.

Echo got that look on her face. The one that said she was itching to fight. Fuck me, but I kind of liked it.

“What do you mean?”

She damn well knew what I meant.

“The only reason for you to come all the way out here in a storm on New Year’s Eve, alone is because you fucked up.”

“You know me so well.” The sarcasm edged her words like rock candy.

“Better than I’d like to.”

Something flashed in her eyes. Something off. Something liquid. Something that made me feel a little bit like a dick.

“The feeling’s mutual. Now put on a goddamn shirt.”

I didn’t answer, but cocked my head and grinned. She hated that more than the silence.

“Seriously?” Echo said, walking past me and tossing the empty coffee cup into the sink. “You think I find you attractive?”

My grin widened, and that was answer enough.

“Boyd.” She moved closer and shook her head. “You senseless piece of man-meat. You are not my type.”

I stared down at her, hiding a grin. We both knew she was lying. “And what exactly is your type?”

“The opposite of you.”

“Right.” I paused. “The guy in the boy band who can barely sing on key or play a G chord is the opposite of me, I’ll give you that.”

“So happy to know you don’t keep up with my life.”

Ping. She got me there.

“Just so you know,” she said quickly, taking another step closer. “Aiden’s got a body that’s been chiseled from stone, fingers that have no trouble playing my G chord, and a killer smile that would melt any woman’s panties.”

“I’m sure he gets lots of practice.”

The fire in her eyes flickered out, and she looked away, the fight suddenly deflated. “Don’t they all.” She was silent for a few moments. “What are you doing out in the Catskills?”

“Working. I’m writing the last few songs for my new record, and that ain’t gonna happen with you here.”

“Am I distracting?”

“Not in the least.”

“Then why?”

“Because you annoy the hell out of me.”