“We’re good with Monopoly,” the twins echo.

I swallow a sigh of frustration.

“Great. The games are in the media room.”

I direct Sawyer and Sebastian to grab us sodas and bags of popcorn. Lauren immediately throws herself on the floor and prepares to be waited on, while Hartley follows me over to the game cabinet.

“Original and old school,” she comments as I take the white box off the shelf.

“Of course. I’m a purist.”

“He’s also a shark,” Sawyer warns as he walks into the room, arms full with food. Behind him, Sebastian’s carrying a tub with a bunch of bottles in it.

“Didn’t know what you were feeling like tonight, baby,” he says to Lauren, carrying the drinks over to her.

She haughtily peruses the offerings and then wordlessly points to a diet lemonade. Sebastian plucks it out, twists the top off and then pours the damn drink into a glass before handing it to his girlfriend.

“What do you want?” I ask Hartley, my tone a little sharp.

“I can help myself,” she replies, looking a bit amused. “Why don’t you set up the game board?”

I carry the box over to the twins and Lauren.

“I’ll be the dog,” Lauren announces.

I thumb through the remaining pieces. “What do you want to be, Har-Har?”

“The iron.” She plucks it out of the pile and sets it on the board.

Sawyer chooses the ship and Sebastian the old shoe.

I choose the car.

After the first four rounds, Sawyer and Hartley are dominating.

“Hey, I’m older than you. Respect your elders,” Hartley teases when Sawyer escapes one of her properties by one space.

“Sorry, I’m at the whim of the dice and they say I should buy St. James.”

He hands me the money and I give him the property card.

“Well, the gods of Chance are telling me to pass go and collect another two hundred.” Hartley waves the card in Sawyer’s face. “And with my newfound riches, I think I’ll buy an apartment so that you have some place to stay the next time you visit.”

“He’s not staying at your place,” Lauren gripes.

I roll my eyes at her. “Chill. It’s just a game.”

“I’m bored,” she says and then gets to her feet. “Let’s go watch a movie in your room.”

Before I can protest, the twins are following Lauren out the door.

“Was it something I said?” Hartley asks.

“No. Lauren’s just…” I pause, not wanting to run down a girl I barely know. “She’s Lauren,” I finish. “Still want to play?”

“Heck yeah. I’m kicking butt.” She pushes the dice in my direction. “Your turn.”

I roll and land on Chance. The card I pick from the pile sends me directly to jail. Hartley smirks at my bad luck. She hops around the board, buys another property, and then sits back and watches me flail.

I roll and get a five, which lands me on the property Hartley just bought. “Damn. Already you’re bleeding me dry.”

She rubs her hands together like an evil villain. I fork over my payment and watch as she irons her way to the Community Chest.

My next roll lands me on Tennessee Avenue. “Finally.” I wipe fake sweat off my brow. “I thought I was going to be landless.”

“It’s still early.”

“I didn’t take you for the ruthless type.”

“Watch and learn, pretty boy.”

She proceeds to prove me wrong. After the next trip around the board, she owns five properties to my one. This game is going to be a massacre.

“How long are you going to torture me?”

“Do you have money left?”

I look down at my meager pile. “Some.”

“Are you giving up?”

“Nope.”

“Mmm-hmmm.” She hands me some cash. “I’m going to buy a house for Indiana Avenue.”

I pass her the house with a big sigh. “This materialistic side is a new one,” I comment.

“How so?” She nudges the dice toward me.

“Dunno. You seemed so nice and easygoing before. You play the violin. That seems really…” I trail off, unsure of the point I was trying to make.

“Soft?” she supplies. Then she scowls. “Playing an instrument is as hard as playing football. Do you think sitting for hours with a piece of wood stuck between your shoulder and neck is comfortable and easy?”

“Um, no?”

“No. Do you know how many times my fingers bled after practicing?” She shoves her pretty hand in my face.

“A lot?” I guess.

“That’s right. A lot. And when your fingers hurt, you can’t do anything. Not even button your own shirt.”

“I’d button your shirt for you,” I say thoughtlessly.

She throws the house at me. “Easton!”

I catch the house and set it on her property. “Sorry. It’s an old habit.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why is it an old habit?”

“Dunno. Just is,” I mumble. I roll the dice and move my piece. It’s another railroad, but I can’t afford it, so I push the dice over to her.

“Come on. Tell me.”

“Why?”

“Because friends tell each other stuff.”

I raise both my eyebrows at her. “And you’ve confided so much in me.”

She shrugs. “You know about my home situation.”

“Not because you told me anything,” I object. My blood is at a low simmer. “I overheard it.”

“You still know,” she pushes.

Irritated, I blurt out, “I do it because that’s my role.”

I immediately regret my outburst and pretend to study my car like it’s a detailed miniature of the million-dollar Bugatti that Steve owns. I love that damn car.

“I’m not going to pretend to know what that means, but I do understand what it’s like being the middle child. You can’t measure up to your perfect older siblings and you aren’t the sweet baby anymore.”

“It’s not like that,” I protest, but the truth of her words strikes me in the gut. Reed and Gideon are extraordinarily focused. They have self-discipline that I lack, and that’s why they’re playing college sports and I won’t. The twins are connected on a deep level that I don’t think even Lauren appreciates. I’ve always been in the middle. Surrounded by my brothers but somehow still alone. The one thing that stood out was how much my mother doted on me, and in retrospect, even that makes me feel uncomfortable.

“I like being Easton Royal. There’s not a thing in this world that I can’t have,” I declare to show her that I’m not the sad sack she’s trying to paint me as. “I said habit because so many people are in love with me and I try to pay them back with compliments to make them feel better.”

“Okay,” she says.

Her mild tone grates on my nerves more than an argument, but I mash my lips together. Instead, I focus on the game, rolling the dice, and moving my car along the board, but I can’t stop thinking about the past.

How Mom always told me I was her favorite, her special boy who could always be counted on to be with her when she needed me. Which meant only that I was the person who couldn’t tell her no.

“Sometimes when you’re the focus of one person’s attention, it can be bad,” I say roughly. “For both you and the other person, so giving a compliment shifts the focus, you know?”

I feel like I’ve said too much and duck my head. I wait for the inevitable question of what I meant and who I was referring to. Surprisingly, the only sound I hear is the dice hitting the board. She lands on the last railroad, which essentially means I’m screwed.

“I’m hungry,” I announce. “Let’s get some food and then watch a movie or something.”

“But we’re not done with the game.”

“I concede.” I get to my feet. “Food?”

“Sure.” She takes out her phone.