Max moved into our house when I was four. He’s ten years older, and he always looked out for me like a big brother. Although for the past two years, I’ve fantasized about him being way more than that. I flirt with him constantly, and he pretends not to notice. His betrayal hurts just as much as my brothers’ does. When we pull up at the airport, I reach for the door handle but Maximo locks it, preventing me from leaving. “Joey. Look at me.”
