I puff out an exhausted breath. “Can we talk about something else? I want to say it’s great seeing you, and it’s greatfor Bo, but I’m sure the underlying reason of why you’re here will only piss me off again, and my eggs haven’t even arrived yet.” I rip off another piece of croissant as I sink back in my seat.
“Fine. I needed to use some vacation days.”
I snort a laugh. “You don’t take vacations and probably already woke at the crack of dawn to work on your laptop.”
“Maybe I’ve changed.”
“Doubt it.”
He tips his cup in my direction. “Bad cover, huh?”
“Could have thought of a few better reasons.”
He sighs and is about to say something, but Jane, our waitress, appears with our plates of eggs and bacon. We both thank her, and when she leaves, Keats seems ready to pick up where he left off.
“I promise I’ll focus on Bo talk in a minute, but first, I need to talk about something.” He doesn’t even look up as he sprinkles pepper on his eggs.
I give up and set my fork on the edge of the plate, shaking my head as I’m defeated. “Say it.”
Keats examines me for a few seconds. “Nash,” he states simply.
A breath gets trapped in my chest before I let go. “What about him?”
My brother’s eyes impale me to let me know that he is serious, with zero ounce of humor about to come my way. “He’s more than your house guest.”
A weak laugh leaves me. “Of course, he’s Bo’s uncle.”
Keats gives me a pointed look, clearly not believing me. “I’m not blind.”
My eyes circle the room, ensuring that nobody is about to hear that my brother is going to tell me his unwelcome wisdom.
“He was just comforting me last night, it happens sometimes.” Keats still isn’t buying it. “I’m not going to talk about this with you.”
“Oh, you are.” His tone is firm, and my eyes nearly pop out. “You’re vulnerable, and I don’t want this to blow up in your face when you process your emotions at a later date.”
“You don’t get to say what I need to cope,” I counter.
Keats throws his napkin onto the table and slides his plate to the side with a jostled sound of his fork before he rests his elbows on the table. “Exactly, I don’t. If you would let me finish, then you might also realize that I accept that your current life chapter is up to you about how you want to deal with it.”
“Just not with Nash,” I bite back.
A smirk begins to stretch on my brother’s mouth which surprises me. “To my own disbelief, I’m not saying that.”
My neck gooses up, curious what point he is trying to make. “Then what are you saying?”
“I want to say he’s taking advantage of your sadness right now, but on this visit to Lake Spark, you seem a tad brighter, and that’s new. And…” His tongue glides along his teeth before he scratches his neck, preparing himself to finish the sentence. “I have to find some compassion that he lost someone too, and it seems you are also helping him find his way.”
My eyes narrow in on my brother, and my body tenses because this isn’t Keats. I’m fairly confident that his coldness toward Nash didn’t fade overnight. “Why are you being empathetic?”
He snickers while he quickly glances out the bay window to the calm lake with orange and yellow leaves surrounding the trees that outline the water. Then his sight lands right back on me with a nearly smug look. “The thingis… I’ve always seen it. Not just now. It’s always been there.”
My shoulders sag, and I shake my head gently, informing him that I have no clue and am waiting for his explanation.
“You and Zac made sense. But the Nix brothers have always had something in common. Zac and Nash looked at you the same way, madly in love with you.” My eyes drop at his admission. “But you only ever had the same look for one of them… Nash.”
Snapping up my eyes, I’m surprised by his observation, but internally, I’ve always felt it. It’s just I never expected someone to say it so bluntly.
“Why are you telling me this?”
