Yet when Carter pulls up out front, the tension in my shoulders dissipates. Krissy might as well be purring as she follows behind me, like she’s planning to climb in with me. “Is that your brother?” “No,” I answer bluntly, launching myself into the front seat. “It’s my grandma.” I slam the door and sink into my seat. “Yes, Krissy, you fucking doorknob. It’s my brother.” Carter grins. “Ah, my sweet, charming sister. How I’ve missed you.”
