The Other Brother (Binghamton #4)

Trey and I have been dating for eighteen months. We met through a mutual friend, and I can’t see my future without him. Leaving him now feels like we’re breaking up.

Trey isn’t the type of guy you meet every day. He’s sweet, smart, handsome, and caring: a lethal combination that swept me into his little web. We’ve been sharing an apartment in Astoria for a year, and it’s been wonderful. Deep inside my heart I know we’ll be fine.

Trey tilts my chin and places a soft kiss on my lips. “I love you, Amelia.” He glances at his watch. “You should get going. You have a three-hour drive, and I don’t want you caught in bad traffic.”

I know he’s right, but my feet aren’t making the move to put distance between us. We’ve become best friends. I love hearing him walk through the door when he gets home from work, where we discuss our days with each other. He’s an excellent sounding board, but he also values my opinions on things. I’ll miss having him to cuddle at night—especially during thunderstorms—and our lazy walks on weekends.

I squeeze him a little tighter. “I’m going to miss you, T.”

“I’m going to miss you, too. But it won’t be bad, I promise. Before you know it, I’ll have a job up there, and we’ll be back to normal, okay?”

I nod again and let him guide me to the driver’s side of the car where he opens the door for me. With a light kiss on my cheek, he pushes my hair behind my ear and says, “I love you. Now get out of here and go get settled.”

“I love you, too.” I smile sadly and take a deep breath as I get in my car. He closes the door for me and hops back on the curb where he puts his hands in his pockets and waits for me to drive away.

Tears cascade down my cheeks, and I quickly wipe them away. Gripping the steering wheel, I turn on the car just as Trey taps on the passenger side window. I slide it down, and he leans his head in. “I put a new playlist on Spotify and downloaded it for you. Listen to it on your drive.” He winks, taps the window, and steps back from the car.

Of course he made me a playlist, because he’s thoughtful like that. I switch my audio to Bluetooth, and my phone picks up Spotify immediately. I search through the playlists and see his right away: Road Trip for my Girl.

Wiping more tears, I press play, take another deep breath, and drive toward a new chapter in my life. I’m looking forward to seeing my dad as well as breathing the fresher air away from the city. Binghamton, here I come.

***

“Looks the same,” I say as I exit off I-81. Thankfully my phone is hooked up to my car through wireless Bluetooth so for the last hour, I’ve been able to talk to my best friend, Amanda.

The playlist Trey made kept me distracted for two hours. I laughed, cried, and sang my heart out to every song. Some songs had meaning behind them, some were just silly, and some I completely hated but I listened to them anyway because Trey picked them for a reason.

“Have you passed Nirchi’s yet? Did you roll down the windows and take a deep sniff?”

I chuckle. “No, no Nirchi’s Pizza spotted yet.”

“Damn, when you do see one, can you please take a picture of you eating a bacon, chicken, ranch slice and send it to me? I want to live vicariously through you.”

“You know I don’t like that. How about the Buffalo chicken? Will that do?”

She huffs on the other end of the phone. “I guess so.”

Amanda and I grew up together in Binghamton, graduated together, and then fled to the city for college because we couldn’t wait to get out of Binghamton. There are aspects of the town we miss, but we wanted more opportunity and to part from our past. Now Amanda works in Albany for the governor as his personal assistant. Fancy, I know. So this move has actually brought us a little closer. Thirty minutes closer to be exact, not much, but hey, we’re counting it.

I take in the old houses, rundown businesses, and weeds growing out of the sidewalks. The town might not be the prettiest at times, but it’s still home, and there’s beauty in that.

“Where are you staying again?”

“Hillcrest. Right off I-81 actually so it will be an easy on and off when you come to visit.”

“And what about you visiting me?”

I make a right like the GPS tells me to and answer, “I have Nirchi’s.”

“Devil, you’re right. When I go down there, I’m going to buy four pies and freeze them, live off pizza for a few weeks.”

“Your trainer will love that, I’m sure.”

“Ugh, he’s such a tool.” Not the first time I’ve heard her say that. “Yesterday, he pulled his tank top to the side and started flexing his pec in the mirror, talking to himself while I was sweating like a pig on the treadmill at a preposterous speed.”

“Legs almost fly off?” The visual of Amanda on the treadmill, legs flying about makes me chuckle.

“That and my boobs. Damn things were bouncing right off my chest.”

“Amanda . . .”

“What?” There is humor in her voice.

“You and I both know you barely fill your B-cup. There is no way your boobs were about to bounce off your chest.”

“Don’t you dare discredit small breasts; they bounce and fly about just as much as your Salma Hayek tits.”

“You can wear an Ace bandage around your chest and get away with not wearing a bra.”

Amanda pauses for a second and then says, “And you were wanting me to visit when?”

Laughing, I turn onto Franklin Ave and slow down as I start counting the houses, looking for mine. “I’m sorry, you have the biggest boobs ever.”

“Now you’re lying, that won’t get you anywhere.”

Thirty-five. Thirty-seven. Thirty-nine.

“I’m here,” I announce, pulling into the driveway.

“What does it look like? Are there murderers around you? Any psychopaths?”

“No.” I laugh, putting the car in park. “It’s a quaint little neighborhood actually, full of Cape Cod houses. Looks like my street is a dead end so that’s nice, no unnecessary traffic coming down here.”

I take in the small two-story house in front of me. White with green trim, a cobblestone walkway to the front door, and thankfully a detached garage. Hopefully there is room to park my car because brushing off snow in winter is not my favorite thing to do. The house and surrounding houses look well kept.

“It’s very nice actually.”

“Good. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to help you unpack.”

I sit in my car in the driveway, taking everything in. “It’s no big deal. I only have clothes and random things, no big furniture pieces. Thankfully the house comes furnished. I think I’ll go to Target later to pick up some necessities, but I should be good.” Trey insisted on coming to help me, but since I drove up during a workday, I told him not to worry about it. My refusal didn’t sit well with his well-mannered self.

“Well, that makes me feel better.” She’s silent for a second before asking, “When are you going to visit your dad?”

“First thing tomorrow morning. I plan on taking him some doughnuts and coffee from Dunkin’. Hopefully that will brighten his day.”

Meghan Quinn's books