Chapter 11
Nate walked until the bonfire was blimp in the distance before he started talking. “I’m not going to wait around for this to get out of hand.”
“What are you talking about?” I kept my tone even, pausing when he froze. The waves crashed near our feet, close enough to sprinkle our ankles with foam, but far enough to not wash away the sand on our skin.
“Kira, don’t play clueless.” He gave me a disappointed look. “One look is all anyone has to take to know what is going on between you and Leo.”
My shoulders sank at his disapproval. I felt a bit of guilt as I said, “Nothing’s going on.”
He ignored my response. “How long have you two been… you know?”
I frowned. “We’re not sleeping together. But if we were, it wouldn’t be any of your business.”
Nate’s jaw tightened as he scanned my face, looking for the lie. “I don’t like the idea of you two together, Kira.”
“Oh, please-” I shook my head.
“I need you to listen to me,” he urged. “You two are not a good match. I know you both like the back of my hand.”
“You do not.”
He continued without faltering. “Leo isn’t the guy, okay? He has some personal problems to deal with before he should think about seeing anyone. If you want to start dating, I could give you recommendations.”
I snorted. “I’m not going to my brother for references on potential boyfriends. Do you know how wild that sounds?”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“And I’m trying to branch out of my comfort zone,” I shared. “Leo’s helping with that.”
Nate’s brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He’s…. He’s just being a friend to me. He’s helping me…” I paused, trying to think of something as close to the truth as possible. “Leo’s giving me tips on how to stop overthinking everything. How to let loose.”
Nate scoffed. “Oh, I’m sure he is.”
I glared at him. “I’m grown enough to handle myself around guys, Nate.”
“Since when do you need tips on how to let loose? You don’t need to let loose, Kira. You’re fine.”
“Fine? I waste entire days trying to make things just right. My mind won’t rest until everything’s in its place on the off-chance Mom or Dad look in my direction and acknowledge my existence.” I could feel my fingers shaking, so I stuffed them into my jacket pockets.
“You’re overly helpful. There’s nothing wrong with that,” Nate insisted with a voice so stern I think he was trying to speak it into existence.
“I’m compulsive,” I objected.
Nate didn’t know me as well as he thought, because if he did, he’d be terrified. If he could hear how loud and obsessive my brain was when it came to keeping everything in order, he’d eat his words.
“Let me see your hand,” he requested, voice softer now and his eyes match.
“It’s fine.” I stepped back when he came closer.
“Kira, let me see.” His voice was firmer, and he held out his hand towards me.
We were kids when Nate noticed how much I obsessed over the smallest details. He noticed when my parents didn’t. And he calmed me the best way he could by helping me do whatever my mind wanted to obsess over.
To calm my obsession, one summer he built a cubby holder with thirty secure shelves when he saw me trying to organize my wardrobe. I wanted to have a visual representation of my clothes during the month. He didn’t laugh when I insisted on making sure my nightclothes didn’t touch the clothes I wore outside. He didn’t fully understand it all and even confessed to that much. But still, he picked up a hammer and started nailing.
“Kira. I’m serious.” Nate gently grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand out of my pocket. I opened my palm so that he could see it was clear of any marks.
