“My brother. That’s it,” he says in a harsh tone.
My stomach drops. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” I sip my wine again; at this point, one glass won’t cut it, and we’ve only been here for five minutes.
He shakes his head and runs his hand down his face. “No. I’m sorry for snapping. People don’t always understand our dynamic. Frankly, it’s none of their business.”
I step up and sit on the stool to get more comfortable. “You don’t need to explain. It was nosy for me to ask.”
“Nate is my biological brother,” he begins anyway. “We aren’t close with our parents, and now, looking back, we were probably craving some attention.”
“Understandable.”
He nods. “My grandparents were around but older, so from a young age, Nate and I gravitated toward spending time with Leo, Sebastian, and Camila’s family.”
“Sebastian and Camila? I didn’t meet them, right?”
“No.” He pauses, hesitating for a second, then continues. “Seb was at the masquerade party but had to leave early. So anyway, Rosa and Javier Morales took my brother and me in like orphans. Ever since then, they’ve been Mom and Dad. And Leo and Sebastian are as much my brothers as Nate; there is no difference in my eyes.”
I wish I were standing next to him to hug him. I couldn’t imagine not having loving parents, but I do know what it is to have a chosen family.
Becks is that for me.
I didn’t miss how he skipped over whoever Camila is, but I’ve already pried enough, so I’ll leave it.
I search my bag, take out my phone, and then pass it over to him once I’ve opened the right screen.
“I have this saved on my phone and send it to Becks periodically. I’m not sure who said it, but I think you can appreciate it as much as I can. Maybe even more so.”
He takes my phone and reads it out loud. “Family isn’t always blood. It’s the people in your life who want you in theirs. The ones who accept you for who you are. The ones who would do anything to see you smile and who love you no matter what.”
He slides the phone back across the counter, and I see his thoughts racing. “You send this to Becks? She’s your chosen family?”
I nod. “How you found solace in the Morales family. She found it within mine.”
He stands straight and heads to the fridge, pulling out two blocks of cheese and some crackers, then places them in front of me. “So you’re the one with the loving parents?”
Suddenly, I feel awful.
Here I am boasting about my family when he just told me he didn’t have a great one.
“Don’t,” he warns. “I can see where your thoughts are going, don’t worry. Be proud that you don’t have shit parents.”
Without invitation, I lean over and cut myself some cheese, place it on a cracker, and drizzle it with the honey Harrison passes me.
“Becks’s mom loves her in her own way,” I tell him. “Her dad left them when she was younger, and something changed in her mom. She became a bit… promiscuous. Always bringing men home when Becks was there as a kid. I think it’s how she coped with losing her high school sweetheart. So Becks often stayed with us.”
“That’s tough.”
My head dips in a quick nod. “It is. They still have a relationship, and honestly, I love Becks’s mom; she just had her priorities backward for a bit.”
I take another bite of cheese, then freeze. “Are you not eating any?”
“I am,” he cuts himself a piece, takes a bite, then offers it to me. I lean forward and decide to tease him in an effort to change this serious mood around.
My lips linger around his fingers, sucking slowly.
I’m not sure where all this confidence is coming from, but my motto lately is ‘fake it till you make it.’
Harrison pulls his finger out and stalks around the counter; his eyes return to me the second he’s in front of me, lifting me from the stool and placing me on the counter.
