Brad
The bar Jodie picked is a nightmare.
Packed wall to wall. Shoulder to shoulder. Loud enough that the bass rattles my teeth. Of course it’s because of the football game. My sister never researches anything—she just charges in and deals with the fallout later.
Now we’re weaving through bodies, my arm brushing strangers every half step. I don’t even know how long unwanted contact is supposed to stay accidental before it becomes something else.
“Where the hell is Mia?” Jodie shouts over the noise. “She should’ve been here by now!”
“We just got here,” I yell back. “Relax.”
We claim the only open table at the back—too far from the bar, too close to the noise. The vibration hums straight into my skull.
Jodie has a soft spot for my assistant. I don’t get it.
Mia’s been a pain in my as
