Chapter 4: Wine, Secrets, and Misunderstandings

There was something electric about it, something that made me forget everyone else was even there. I saw a flicker of something in Morgan’s eyes—surprise, maybe, or was it something more?

My face flushed instantly. And maybe I was imagining it, but I thought I saw Morgan’s face turn a little red, too.

She ducked her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. It was the first time I’d ever seen her flustered, and it made my heart race even faster.

Beep beep—

A car horn snapped me out of my trance. I turned and saw a sleek black Mercedes pulling up behind the Porsche.

I looked toward the honking and saw a Mercedes pull up behind Morgan’s car.

It was my brother.

He got out and walked straight toward me. As he got close, his eyes flicked to Harper, but after a glance, he looked away.

Dylan was always the strong, silent type. He gave Harper a quick nod—polite, but distant. Then he turned to me, his face softening just a bit.

He nodded politely to Harper, but frowned when he saw Harper holding my arm:

"Let’s go, I’ll take you home."

His voice was gentle, but there was an edge to it. He glanced at Harper’s hand on my arm, and I could tell he was already sizing him up.

As soon as he finished, I blurted out:

"Harper, ride with me in my brother’s car, it’s on the way."

I said it without thinking, desperate to keep the peace. Harper looked at me, eyebrows raised.

Harper:

"Or Autumn, you ride with me in my sister’s car?"

We both spoke at once, then burst out laughing. It was like we couldn’t help but sync up, even when we tried not to.

Once again, we spoke in unison, then grinned at each other.

Dylan and Morgan exchanged confused glances, but neither of them said anything. I could feel the tension easing, just a little.

Guess that’s just our sibling telepathy.

We’d only known each other a short time, but it felt like we’d been friends forever. There was an unspoken bond—maybe because we were both chasing impossible dreams.

In the end, after a lot of persuading, we convinced Dylan and Morgan to join us for dinner.

It took some convincing—Dylan grumbled about work, and Morgan pretended she was too busy—but eventually, they agreed. I could barely contain my excitement.

But neither of us dared ride in the other’s car.

Harper and I both chickened out at the last second, each choosing the safety of our own family. I watched Morgan’s car pull away, my heart thumping in my chest.

So there I was, sitting in the front passenger seat of my brother’s car, chatting with Harper on Instagram.

I pretended to check my emails, but really, I was swapping memes with Harper. We sent each other gifs of nervous puppies and hearts, laughing at how ridiculous our lives had become.

After a lot of questions, I finally learned that Morgan is a real powerhouse. She took over her parents’ company as soon as she turned eighteen, and in just six years, turned a near-bankrupt business into a Fortune 500 company.

Harper was practically gushing, sending me links to Forbes articles and old photos of Morgan at business galas. I scrolled through them, feeling both intimidated and oddly proud.

Listening to Harper gush about her, I was about to reply when a message popped up:

[Sweetheart has accepted your friend request. You can now start chatting.]

My heart did a little flip. I grinned so wide, I thought my face might split in two. I wanted to scream, but I settled for stomping my feet in excitement.

Right after, Harper messaged:

[Autumn, the one I sent you yesterday is my sister’s private Instagram. She was busy all day and didn’t check her phone. I just told her and she accepted. Don’t overthink it.]

I clutched my phone, rereading the message three times. I wanted to reply something witty, but all I could think was, "Thank you, universe."

Looking at my empty chat with Morgan, I stomped my feet in excitement.

I almost squealed out loud, but caught myself just in time. Dylan shot me a look, eyebrow raised.

"Are you and Harper really together?"

His voice was casual, but I could hear the worry underneath. I turned to look at him, caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes.

Just as I was basking in the joy of adding Morgan, my brother suddenly spoke.

He looked more serious than I’d ever seen him. I swallowed, suddenly nervous.

I froze and turned to look at him, shocked by what I saw.

Dylan’s brows were tightly knit, his face so sour it was like I’d betrayed him.

I pouted, confused. Was he upset because he thought I was dating Harper and didn’t think Harper was good enough for me?

I tried to read his expression, but Dylan was impossible to read when he wanted to be. I wondered if he was just being protective, or if there was something else going on.

Oh no.

Scenes from the upcoming meal flashed through my mind: My brother grilling Harper with a dark face, asking what I like to eat, what my strengths are. If Harper couldn’t answer, my brother would lay into him right there.

I pictured Dylan interrogating Harper over appetizers, and I had to fight the urge to laugh. Poor Harper. He had no idea what he was walking into.

Wait, wouldn’t Harper get on my brother’s bad side before even pursuing me?

It was a disaster waiting to happen. I needed to fix this, fast.