“Well, I appreciate it.”
There’s a beat. A moment where I could just leave it alone. Should leave it alone.
Don’t say it.
Don’t fucking say it.
“Have fun with Declan tonight.”
The second it’s out of my mouth, I want to take it back. Her head tilts slightly, eyes narrowing just a fraction, and I can practically hear how it sounded.
Jealous.
Petty.
Not my best look.
“What are you up to tonight?” she asks.
I casually lean against the wooden post like I didn’t just trip over my own emotions. “Probably going to hit up Kilting Around. Grab a drink with Nicklas.”
Nicklas—who better keep his hands to himself when my sister shows up.
“Say hi to Nicklas for me,” she says, a small laugh slipping out. “And tell him to behave.”
Of course she’d want me to say hi to Nicklas. She sees the best in him. I huff out something that might pass for a laugh, but my attention is already slipping, caught somewhere between the curve of her smile and the fact that none of this—her, the boys, the easy way we fall into these moments—is actually mine.
She gives a little wave, fingers wiggling, and rolls up the window. And I just stand there on the stoop. Like an idiot. Watching her pull away and wanting—God, wanting—to tell her to forget the date. To stay. To come inside, sit on the couch, let the boys argue over a movie while we pretend this is something real and not just…borrowed time.
But I don’t.
Because I’m not the guy for her. I’m on the road, busy with captain duties. How can I possibly be the guy her kids need? Best to keep my emotional distance, because if I let more happen, if I let them in, I’ll only end up disappointing them and breaking hearts all over again.
I stand there until her car disappears out of sight. Marbles shifts in my arms, and I look down at him, his little face tipped up like he’s waiting for me to get it together.
“What do you think, buddy?” I ask quietly, scratching under his chin. “Have I lost my marbles?”
He lets out a soft meow, like he’s got an opinion on that, and I huff out a laugh I don’t quite feel. I pull him closer, tucking him against my chest, and he melts into me like it’s the most natural place in the world to be. Doesn’t take more than a few seconds before he’s out cold.
I shake my head, smiling despite everything. “The boys wore you out, huh?”
Or maybe it’s just…this house. All that noise, all that life, and then, silence. I carry him over to his bed, setting him down gently. He barely stirs, just snuggles deeper into the fluff like he’s claiming it, like he belongs here.
Like they belong here.
I straighten slowly and look around.
Too quiet.
Way too fucking quiet.
The kind of quiet that creeps in and starts filling your head with thoughts you don’t want to have.
“Yeah,” I mutter, dragging a hand over my face. “Nope. Not doing this tonight.”
I grab my coat from the closet and head out before I can talk myself out of it. I’m not in the mood for a beer. Or people. Or anything, really. And yet somehow, ten minutes later, I’m pushing open the door to Kilting Around like it’s muscle memory. Warmth hits me first. Then noise. Laughter. Glasses clinking. Normal.
I spot Nicklas and Jaxon right away. What is Jaxon doing here on a Saturday night?
