“Some people have to work, you know!” I shouted down from my balcony to the group of college kids making a ruckus in my complex courtyard. Moving into my Pacific Beach pad a few years ago was the perfect idea. I was young, just rented my first place, and looking to party.

Things were different for me now. I still liked to have a good time, but I had responsibilities. Maybe it was time I moved. I drummed my fingers on the banister. My business was good, great even, so I could afford something a little bigger in quieter neighborhood with better airflow. Fuck, this courtyard gets no air.

I pinched my shirt between my fingers and fanned my chest with it. I didn’t have much, so it wouldn’t take me long to pack up. Maybe just a load or two with August’s truck would do it. Whew, it’s hot. “Turn the grill down, too!” I shouted. “I can feel its heat rays all the way up here for crying out loud.”

“Dude, there’s never anywhere to park here.” August’s bitching announced his arrival.

“I know. I think I need to move,” I said reaching for the handle to slide the door shut, but my hand slipped on the metal. Instead, I stuck my foot to the glass and kicked it closed.

“You think?” August busied himself putting a twelve pack into my fridge.

“Make sure you put those in a row.” I peeked over his shoulder and swiped one from his hand. He glared over his shoulder at me.

“God, you’re weird sometimes.”

I shrugged my shoulder and twisted off the cap. I liked my stuff neat and tidy. There was nothing wrong with that.

We each sat back into my sofa, but a little too close. “Dude, scoot down. I know you’re my brouse, but I don’t wanna feel your leg hairs tango with mine.”

August huffed and shifted down toward the far end. “What on Earth is a brouse?”

“Bro spouse. Homie.” I grinned and held my beer up to him. He laughed and cheered back.

“So, you moving?” he asked after a sip.

“Nope,” I said before taking a sip. “Girls at your place?” I asked knowing exactly where Capri was. She’d reduced me to a stalker. If she wasn’t with me, I wanted to know where she was or what she was doing. I liked hearing about her day.

“Yeah, they’re planning the joint bachelor/bachelorette party, I guess.” He propped his dirty shoe on the edge of my coffee table.

“Whoa. Joint?” I asked kicking his foot off the table I just polished today. C’mon, dude.

He squinted at me and took another swig. “Yeah. It’s just the five of us, anyway. Besides you can spend quality time with my sister.” He put both of his feet up on the table. Fucker.

“Yeah, that’s true,” I said giving both feet a stiff kick. He winced with a curse, and I relaxed back into the couch. “I mean, it would be nice to see her,” I clarified, but August wasn’t buying it. He eyed me skeptically then set his beer on the table and leaned onto his knees.

“About Capri,” he started, as I swooped in with a coaster under his beer. Seriously? This fool was an animal.

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you about my intentions with your sister.” I set my beer down, on a fuckin’ coaster.

August held his hand up quickly, “Dude, I don’t want to know everything. I just want to make sure you know how special she is.”

“I know, August.” I’d always known, but after what happened at Blue’s house, something changed. I still haven’t figured out what, but I’d spent the last few days twisted. A part of me fell open that day to Capri, and I had no control over it. Feelings of panic and peace had been cage fighting in my chest ever since.

“She’s different, August. Things with her, they’re different from anything I’ve ever had before. I’m not sure I can even explain it, but she’s kind of become everything to me, you know?” I ran my hands through my hair and bounced my heels on the floor. This admission was huge for me. It wasn’t every day I allowed myself to get attached to someone, and even though I’d attached myself to the Hunter family a long time ago, this was different. The step from friends to more felt like the first time the tattoo needle hit my skin. There was no going back.

“I do know, actually.” August smiled at me.

I nodded and sat back into the couch, relieved. Of course, he knew. He had Kensie.

Holy shit.

“You have Kensie!” I sat forward again.

“I do.” August smiled calmly, and a little too confidently for my taste.

“You have Kensie, dude. I have Capri. You and Kensie.” I pointed at August. “Me and Capri.” I dug my thumb into my chest.

“Yep.” August laughed. “Does she know?”

“Well, yeah. I think. I mean. She kisses me, and the other day she crawled into my lap.”

August threw his hands in the air choking on his beer. “Wes. I just wanted to know if she knows that is the real deal for you. No details, please.”

“Right.” I nodded and leaned forward to pull my phone from my pocket.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Making sure she knows,” I answered typing in my text.

Me: You’re mine

Capri: I am.

Fuck, yeah. I jumped to my feet and shuffled around the floor. August laughed his ass off. Funny, ‘cause I did the same when he danced, only because he looked like a dumbass.

Capri: You’re mine too then.

Me: Yours, baby.

I typed back grinning like a fool. “She knows,” I told August bouncing back into the couch.

“Good.” He smiled.

Girls’ night, I needed this. I had so much to catch Kensie and Lennon up on. I wasn’t sure how, though. I’d spent so many years containing all of my thoughts behind my tongue. It was easier to stay hidden when I didn’t speak up. Since spending time with Wes though, I had a sudden urge to test my limits.

“I dropped out of school,” I blurted to the girls as they busied themselves making margaritas.

“What?” Kensie shouted over the blender. Okay, I hid my voice behind the crushing of ice. I should get points for effort. She turned it off and popped the lid. “What did you say, Capri?” She glanced over her shoulder at me before taking one of the slices of lime Lennon was cutting.

“I dropped out of school,” I said again. Kensie’s mouth dropped open with the falling of the lime wedge into the blender. Lennon’s reaction was to chuck a full lime across the kitchen at me.

“Crap.” I ducked to the side. “What was that for?”

“You dropped out of school?” She squeezed a slice at me, splattering lime juice all over the table. “What the hell, Capri? I spent all last semester getting you through English Lit.”

I clenched my teeth together and grimaced. “Yeah, and I really appreciated it.”

“Me, too.” Her glare popped into a grin. “There’s no way I would have made it through without you there. That class was boring as hell.” I laughed in agreement.

“But why?” Kensie asked pouring the margaritas into our glasses.

“It wasn’t for me.” I stood up to grab the salt from the pantry. “I’ve never been motivated to go. I tried, I really did, but my heart just isn’t in it.”

“And where is your heart?” Kensie handed Lennon and me each our cups.

With Wes, I thought but wasn’t ready for the confession yet. “In art,” I said following Lennon out into the living room.

“So, you really have always been an artist then?” Lennon asked sitting down in the oversized chair.

I peered at her through squinted eyes and shrugged my shoulders. I still wasn’t comfortable with the title artist. When was someone called an artist? When was someone called an author, a singer, or a designer? Was it simply the day they start creating or were there titles you earned through acknowledgment? For me, I couldn’t call myself an artist until I saw myself as one. Today, I was not an artist. “I’ve always loved art, yes.”