The Reckless Collision

Ray.

~~~

The house smelled like garlic and parsley, with a faint hint of something sweet—cherry, maybe strawberry. I walked behind Samantha as we stepped through the doorway, her new shiny hair catching the light from the hanging fixture above. We kicked off our shoes, placing them on the wooden floor, and she hung her backpack on the rack to the right of the entrance. She was quiet, her gaze flicking around as she took in the space.

The house, like my mom, was clean and bright, almost unnervingly tidy. A long corridor stretched ahead, leading to the kitchen in the back. On the left, the living room sprawled with its big windows and soft colors.

On the right were the white stairs to the second floor and the door to the garage. The whole place had a neutral palette—white, sand, and brown—all blending in that Pinterest-perfect way my mom loved.

"Relax," I murmured, squeezing her hand lightly. Her lips twitched in a small smile, but she didn't say anything.

As we moved further into the house, Logan came down the stairs. He was lean but built like he lived in the gym—muscle packed on his frame and highlighted by the tight black shirt he was wearing, always had to make an impression.

My brother was taller than Sam but shorter than me. People said we looked alike, but his face was fuller, his nose broader, and his hair—pulled back into a man bun—always made him look like he was trying a little too hard.

Logan's bright blue eyes lit up when he saw us. "Well, look who it is!" he said, his grin lopsided and mischievous. "Hi, I'm Logan," he added, even though he damn well knew she'd recognize him.

"Hi, I'm—" Sam started, but Logan cut her off before she could finish.

"Samantha," he said, his grin widening. "Yeah, we know all about you." He looked her over, head to toe, with a raised eyebrow. "And you are... different."

I shot him a warning glance, but Sam stiffened beside me, clearly uncomfortable. She was wearing ripped black jeans, her Nirvana T-shirt, and an unzipped black hoodie. I told her to dress casually—comfortable for the flight—but I could see the doubt creeping into her expression. Meanwhile, Logan stood there looking like he was ready for some exclusive event, his shirt pressed and his jeans dark and spotless, which was his usual self but she didn't know that just yet.

"Different?" Sam asked, her voice trembling just slightly.

Logan just smirked, but before I could say anything, Mom appeared from the corridor. She was tiny, barely reaching Sam's shoulder, and dressed in yoga pants and a loose shirt. Her brown hair hung loose around her face, and her bright energy filled the room as she strode right past Logan and me to Sam.

"Hello, Samantha!" Mom said warmly, her wide smile lighting up her face. She opened her arms and hugged Sam so tightly that I saw Sam wobble slightly on her feet.

"Hi," Sam gasped, clearly not expecting my mom to be so strong.

Mom pulled back, hands on Sam's shoulders, studying her like she was memorizing every detail. "You're even prettier in person," she said, then turned to Logan and me. "Boys, get the food. We're eating in the living room."

"Why?" Logan asked, frowning.

"Because we have a guest," Mom replied, giving him one of those looks that said she wouldn't argue.

"I'll grab the cake," I said, picking up the box Sam had brought. I leaned in to kiss her cheek, and she instinctively shrugged her shoulders, her shyness making her even more endearing.

"Thanks," she murmured with an awkward smile.

Logan and I headed toward the kitchen, leaving Sam with Mom. I turned back for a moment to give her an encouraging smile. She needed it. Meeting my family was a lot, especially with Logan acting like... well, Logan.