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I look at him. “It does?”

It’s true that dance can be therapeutic for a number of things. The rhythmic nature can help, in particular, with conditions like Parkinson’s that start to affect motor skills.

“My sister’s been involved with adaptive dance for years.”

I turn to face him fully, this completely catching my attention. “Your sister does adaptive dance?”

He tucks his hands into his pockets. “Lydia was born with a hole between the two upper chambers of her heart, and when she was four, a blood clot slipped through and caused an ischemic stroke.”

I stare at him, actually feeling my lips fall open and make a little O shape.

I had no idea about this.

“The stroke affected her left side, but the only lasting effects are in her left leg. Obviously over the years, she’s made a lot of gains, but she still walks with a cane, even uses a wheelchair when it’s over really rough terrain or for very long distances. Since it happened when she was so young, it hasn’t slowed her down much. And she doesn’t have any cognitive or speech deficiencies.” He chuckles. “It definitely did not affect her speech.”

I grin. “She doesn’t have any trouble telling you what she thinks?”

“Not at all. I’ve even asked if the stroke completely took away any filter whatsoever. My parents and her doctor have assured me that that’s just Lydia.”

I laugh. “A younger sister with an older brother sometimes has to learn to just say what she thinks.”

His smile fades slightly as he studies me. “Some younger sisters let their older brother get away with almost everything.”

It’s obvious he’s talking about Beckett and me. Even though Beckett is only four minutes older than me, he is my older brother.

I shrug. “Some just choose the path of least resistance.”

Lawson looks like he wants to say more but decides against it.

“Dammit, your sister’s body betrayed her when she was only four?” Brewser asks. He shakes his head and looks at me. “It’s so fucking unfair when that happens.”

I know he’s thinking of my little sister, Mara. I nod. “It really is.”

Lawson agrees. “It really fucking sucks,” he says. He’s also looking at me when he says, “But she came through it. She had to learn to walk again, but she’s amazing. There isn’t much she can’t do. The stuff that’s a little challenging, we still find a way.”

“And you’ve been a big help to her in that, right?” I ask, knowing it’s true.

“Of course. It’s what big brothers are for.”

“How many times have you carried that little girl?” Brewser asks with a smile.

Lawson shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “Anytime she needed it. I didn’t keep track.”

God, I like him so much.

“And she dances, huh?” Brewser asks.

“Started with ballet, but she does ballroom too. I’m pretty sure she’s done some line dancing in her time.” He shoots me a grin. “It started when she was about nine. She saw the cheerleaders and dance team and wanted to do that too. My mom tried to talk her out of it. Said she should do basketball or some sport where they had adapted it for wheelchair use. But Lydia said the basketball uniforms didn’t have enough sequins on them.”

I grin, already liking Lawson's sister. “I was playing hockey with Beckett as soon as we were old enough to put on ice skates. But the moment I saw the figure skaters, I wanted nothing to do with bulky pads and helmets. I love sequins and fringe and lace.”

“You and Lydia would get along great,” he says. “Maybe she can come watch your dance event with me.”

I straighten, my breath catching in my chest. “You’re going to come watch?”

This is all so stupid. I’m excited about Lawson coming to watch me dance? First, he’s coming because of Brewser. Second, there is No. Dance. Contest. For. Fuck’s. Sake.

I slide a glance at Brewser, wondering how he’s going to get us out of that.