Once we landed, I made my way to baggage claim and grabbed all of my luggage, which let's be honest was probably more than I needed. But hey, I was moving back home. A girl has to be prepared.
I scanned the crowd, expecting to see my parents waiting for me with excited smiles and maybe even a welcome-home sign. But instead, my eyes landed on a man in a dark suit holding a small white sign with my name typed neatly across it: Adriana Hayes.
A chauffeur. Of course.
I sighed, half amused, half confused, and made my way over to him with a polite smile. Without saying much, he gave a respectful nod, took my bags effortlessly, and led me through the bustling airport to a sleek black limousine parked just outside.
A limo. Seriously?
Guess my dad wanted to make a statement.
Talk about arriving in style.
The car ride was quiet but thankfully short. Before I knew it, the massive house I grew up in came into view, standing just as tall and grand as I remembered. God, I missed this place.
As soon as the car stopped, I hopped out and made a beeline for the front door. My feet seemed to know exactly where to go straight up the stairs and into my old room. I dropped my bags, launched myself onto the bed, and buried my face in the pillow.
"Oh, I missed you so much," I mumbled dramatically into the soft fabric.
"You're still a drama queen, huh?" a familiar voice teased with a chuckle.
Dylan.
I shot up and grinned before launching myself at him, knocking us both to the floor in a laughing heap.
"Ow," he groaned.
"You're fine. I always take the fall like a pro," I said, grinning. "Pretty sure I just saved your spine," he complained.
"Quit whining and hug me," I said, giggling as I threw my arms around him.
He let out a long-suffering sigh but hugged me back well, more like crushed me in a bear hug.
"I missed my wittle sister," he said in a ridiculous baby voice.
"Your wittle sister can't breathe," I gasped as he finally released me. I rolled off him and hit the floor with a thud.
"Thank God," I exaggerated, pushing myself up. "I thought I was gonna die."
"Oh, quit it," he laughed, getting to his feet.
I took a good look at my brother, and I could immediately tell he'd changed.
His frame had filled out, more muscle than I remembered, and his arms were covered in tattoos. His hair had darkened, and he looked... well, a lot more intimidating. But deep down, I knew he was still the same dork.
"Well, you look..." I paused, studying him, "different."
"Thanks," he said with a grin. "You, on the other hand... look awful."
"Perfect," I shot back with a smirk. "I was going for your look today."
He gave me a dramatic eye roll and a mock glare.
"Seems like you two are still getting along just fine," my mother's amused voice came from behind me.
"Mom," I called, spinning around to hug her. We embraced tightly, and I could feel her tears soaking into my shoulder. The familiar scent of her perfume and the warmth of her embrace made me feel like I was home again.
"I've missed you so much," she sniffled, pulling back slightly to look at me with watery eyes.
"I missed you too," I choked, fighting to keep my own tears at bay. We pulled apart, and she gently ran her fingers through my hair, like she used to when I was younger.
"You're absolutely gorgeous," she smiled, her eyes glistening with pride.
"Really?" I beamed, a little embarrassed. "Because I was told I looked awful today." I shot a glance at Dylan, who was still grinning like he was enjoying the whole scene.
"I'm not wrong," he teased with a playful wink.
I quickly spun around and punched him in the arm, my hand feeling the muscle beneath his shirt.
"Oww," he groaned dramatically. "Mom, she hit me!"
"Can you two act your age?" she giggled, her voice light but still full of that motherly authority.
"Dylan, you're 24, and Adriana, you're 22. Seriously, you two should know better by now." She shook her head, but the smile on her face said it all she was just as happy to have us back together as we were.
"What are you talking about? This is a solid sibling connection," I said with a grin, wrapping my arms around Dylan in a tight hug. We both flashed her cheesy, over-the-top smiles, and she just laughed, her heart clearly full of warmth.
"Where's Dad?" I asked, pulling away from Dylan and glancing around the house, suddenly aware of his absence.
He'll be home soon he had an important meeting to attend," Mom explained.
"Oh, okay," I said with a nod. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm starving."
"Same," Dylan said, rubbing his stomach with a grin.
"There's food in the kitchen," Mom added with a smile.
"To the kitchen!" Dylan shouted, his footsteps thudding as he took off down the stairs.
"Yay, food!" I laughed, the smell of something warm and buttery drawing me after him.
Man, it feels so good to be home.