9. Blake
9
Blake
I'm surprised to see my little brother Jake at the stables when I walk in, though my mind is elsewhere. I can't stop thinking about Savannah Hart and our casual encounter. It was a big surprise to see her now at the ranch, which I didn't expect. But now that I think about it, it obviously makes sense she'd be here helping Aubrey organize the festival, so I should have predicted that. Yet, I wasn't ready to see her again.
She was stunning at Dad's Christmas party, all confidence and quick wit as we talked by the fireplace. The memory of her laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she teased me about my hockey stats—it's still crystal clear. The chemistry was there for sure.
I should have called her the next day. Or the day after that. But then the season kicked into high gear, road games piled up, and before I knew it, weeks had turned into months. Then it felt too late, too awkward to reach out. Classic Blake Ice move—overthinking until the moment passes.
Jake looks up as I approach, grinning. “Blake! About time you showed up.”
The sight of my little brother playing with his daughter never fails to pull at something deep inside me. It’s the kind of thing Dad would have done with us if he hadn’t been so busy keeping the ranch afloat after Mom died.
Violet’s grown so much since Christmas. She’s perched on his lap, holding a disc-shaped teether, gnawing on it like it’s the most delicious thing in the world.
“Hey, what’re you doing here, bro?” I lean against the stall door, taking in the quiet stables. The low hum of the ranch—the rustling hay, the soft nickering of horses—grounds me in a way nothing else can. I nod toward Violet. “And look at you, kiddo. Getting bigger by the day. How old is she now?”
“Almost twenty-one months,” Jake says, ruffling her hair. “Feels like yesterday she was learning to crawl. Now she’s running me ragged.”
I chuckle. “And you’re handling all this on top of school?”
He shrugs, glancing down at Violet with a soft smile. “It’s a lot, but it’s worth it. This degree is just the next step. What I really want—what I’ve always wanted—is hockey. The degree gets me on the path to coach or scout someday, maybe even play in a league again if things line up. For now, it’s classes, practices, and trying to keep up with this one.”
He bounces Violet gently, and she giggles, flashing a gummy grin. “Jack and Annie have been lifesavers, though,” he adds. “Dad’s got a soft spot for his granddaughter, and Annie? She’s the only one who can get Violet to nap without a fight.”
I laugh. “So Dad’s finally mellowing, huh?”
Jake smirks. “Maybe just a little. Still doesn’t let me slack off, though.”
I glance at Violet again. “That teether shaped like a hockey puck?”
“Damn right,” Jake says, grinning. “Gotta start ‘em young.”
We both laugh, and for a moment, it feels like old times—just two brothers shooting the breeze.
Jake adjusts Violet on his hip and presses a kiss to her hair, his usual grin replaced with something quieter, more tired. The late afternoon light filters through the slats, streaking the barn floor in patches of gold.
“Man,” he says, his voice heavy. “Being a single dad is great. Violet’s everything to me. But sometimes…” He trails off, his gaze dropping to the ground. “It gets lonely. You’ve got Blaze, though. You’ve always had him. You don’t know what it’s like to really be alone.”
Jake rarely lets his guard down, so when he does, I know it’s serious. “Jake…”
He looks up, meeting my eyes with a faint, tired smile. “I mean it. You’re single, sure. But as far as I can tell, having someone with your same DNA means you’ll never actually feel alone. You’ve always had someone who gets you—really gets you. I mean, if he’s your identical twin, he’s practically you, right? So obviously, he gets you—he is you.”
I lean back against the stall, crossing my arms. “Yeah, Blaze has been there. But having a twin isn’t the magic fix for loneliness you think it is.”
Jake tilts his head, frowning slightly. “How could it not be? You’ve always had someone who feels and thinks like you—someone who’s been with you since day one. That’s gotta be better than what most people have. Honestly, I’ve always envied you and Blaze for that.”
Jake’s words hit me harder than I expect. I’ve always thought of Blaze as my rival more than my ally, but maybe Jake’s right. Maybe I’ve taken that connection for granted.
I let out a short laugh, shaking my head. “It’s not that simple. Blaze and I… we’re not what people imagine when they think of twins. Honestly, I’ve looked into it. Studies say twins are supposed to have this unbreakable bond—emotional closeness, deep understanding, all of it. They say it comes from sharing everything: DNA, a womb, the same upbringing. And yeah, some of that is true. But even if we started the same biologically, life shapes you, you know?"
"That makes sense."
"Yes, it does. The choices you make, the things you go through—they push each twin in different directions. Blaze's path and my path started to diverge and shape us in different ways from the moment we were born."
"I'd never thought of that."
"So no, he’s not me, and I’m not him."
"You've really studied this, man."
"Heck, yeah. And it gets better."
"Really? How?"
"Well, those same studies also say that identical twins compete more than any other siblings. It’s called sibling differentiation. We’re wired to carve out our own identities, to prove we’re not just copies of each other."
"Holy shit. That explains a lot."
"Blaze figured out who he was early—he’s the ‘older’ twin. By five minutes. And you’d think that’s nothing, right? But to him, it’s everything.”
Jake whistles low, shaking his head. “Dealing with that sounds exhausting.”
“You have no idea,” I say with a bitter chuckle. “Blaze is the storm; I’m the anchor. And people love the storm. It’s exciting, unpredictable. Me? I’m the steady one. The safe one. And sometimes, that feels more like a consolation prize than a strength.”
Jake adjusts Violet again as she starts waving her stuffed rabbit. He grins, mischief lighting up his eyes. “So, tell me— ever fight over a girl? Like, does having a twin mean double the drama in dating?”
I freeze for a second, caught off guard by the question. “Why would you ask that?”
Jake smirks. “Come on, Blake. You two compete over everything else. It had to happen at least once.”
I sigh, memories of senior year flooding back. “Fine. Lily Hernandez. And don’t even think about telling anyone.”
Jake raises a hand in mock solemnity. “Scout’s honor.” Then his grin widens. “You do realize you’ve just given me prime blackmail material, right?”
I laugh despite myself. “Figures.”
"What happened?" Jake leans forward, clearly intrigued.
"Lily and I were lab partners in AP Chem. Spent months working together, talking. I had it all planned out—was going to ask her to prom. Had her favorite blue hydrangeas ordered and everything."
"Let me guess—Blaze happened?"
I run a hand through my hair. "Yeah. He started showing up at her debate club meetings, offering her rides home on his motorcycle. Being... well, Blaze. Then one day, he shows up at halftime during the championship game with the whole marching band, this huge proposal. Real showstopper." I shrug, but the memory still stings. "She said yes."
Jake shifts Violet to his other knee. "Did Blaze know? About how you felt?"
"I don't think so. I keep those things to myself, you know? That's just... how I am." I pause, remembering those quiet moments in the lab, all the things I never said. "Maybe if I hadn't waited so long..."
“So who’d you end up going with?”
“Nobody. Stayed home and helped Dad with the spring maintenance instead.” I manage a small smile. “Probably the first time I really understood why he throws himself into work so much.”
The conversation drifts, and as Jake leaves with Violet, I turn back to what I came here to do—brush down Ladybug. Her chestnut coat gleams under the steady rhythm of my strokes, the familiar motion grounding me.
But even as my hands move, my thoughts wander back to Savannah.
She’s nothing like Lily. Lily was steady, predictable. The kind of person who made sense for someone like me. We were alike in all the ways that should’ve worked. Savannah? She’s everything I’ve spent my life avoiding. And yet, I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s wildfire—uncontrolled, fiery, and capable of burning me alive.
But maybe… just maybe… jumping into the flames is worth the risk.
The stables’ door creaks open, sunlight spilling across the floor in golden streaks. Ladybug flicks her ears toward the sound, and I glance up. There she is, walking toward me with that same confidence and spark I can’t get out of my head.
Maybe I should say something casual, something friendly to start. But as she steps closer, I realize I’ve already decided: it’s time to stop playing it safe and start making things happen.