Chapter 3
Three
Ky
“Where are you going?” Damon asks.
“When are you and Joey going to have a kid?” I counter as I turn back from where I’d been sneaking out of the suite.
He freezes, something like fear in the tense lines of his body, in his jaw as he turns and levels a glare over his shoulder at me. “Seriously, Ky?”
“What?”
“I’m working.”
“No, you’re glaring out at the ice.”
His scowl deepens.
“Okay at me, and at the ice.”
Narrowed blue eyes, the color a mirror of my own.
Sighing, I abandon my quest for arena popcorn (they always put extra butter on it which makes it de-lish-us) and move back to my brother. His gaze is back on the rink below, the players going through the motions of their various warm-up activities.
“I know you want to knock up that gorgeous woman of yours,” I say softly, knowing this is the wrong time to be pushing him on this.
But it’s also not the first time in the last few months I’ve seen this reaction from him.
And I’m done waiting for him to either get his head together or talk to me or Joey about it.
I’m going to help him work through his demons the same way he helped me work through mine.
Yeah? Well what about the demons that keep you up night after night?
The ones I do my best to pretend don’t exist?
Right.
I’m still pretending…that they don’t exist.
But also, more important than the crap swirling through my brain, is…what the hell is my amazing big brother thinking?
His expression shouldn’t be filled with fear—though, that’s tempered by longing. He should be looking forward to the next stage of life, should be moving forward, not clinging to the past.
Yeah? Like you?
I clench my teeth together.
Yes. Like me.
Moving forward. Not looking back. Ever.
Even when the past keeps sinking its claws into me and threatening to yank me off my feet.
“Damon,” I press when he doesn’t answer.
“We’re doing this now?” he mutters.
“When have you ever known me to let something go when it’s in my crosshairs?”
A flash of blue eyes. “You’re annoying.”
“Yeah? Likewise.” I nudge his knee with mine. “Talk to me.”
“I can’t imagine a life without Joey and me starting a family.” A shake of his head. “But…it’s not the right time.”
That’s certainly true.
But then there’s the fear.
Even masked by calm logic, I can sense his anxiety.
And something in me goes tender as I put the pieces together.
My brother, the one who sacrificed everything for me, is scared of being a good dad.
I want to hug him, put him at ease…and I also want to throttle him.
Because what the fuck?
“You know I was just teasing you about making babies, right?” I pretend to gag, knowing I’ll have to go at this sideways to get the stubborn lug to truly absorb what I’m saying.
“I don’t actually want to think about my brother participating in the act of making said babies.
” When he doesn’t unstick, I give him a wet willy.
“Ky,” he growls, smacking my hand away. “You’re not cute.”
I smile cherubically. “I absolutely am.”
“Are not.”
It’s tempting to reply Are so! But I have more important things to get through his thick skull.
“Big bro.” I gentle my voice, know he clocks it because his scowl intensifies, but I push on anyway. “You’re going to be a great father—whenever you guys choose to have kids.”
“Right,” he says gruffly, gaze fixed in place.
I bump his shoulder with mine then sigh again when he doesn’t look at me. “You do realize that you were more of a dad to me than our bio dad ever was?”
He sniffs. “Not hard to do considering he left to get milk and never came back.”
“I thought it was cigarettes.”
“Nah, it was beer.”
I relax as we fall into a conversation we’ve had a hundred times—maybe it trends too much toward dark humor, but sometimes dark humor is the only thing we have to get through the seriously shit times.
“Be a better story if he went out to fight aliens or something,” I quip.
“At least we could say we have a hero for a dad instead of a deadbeat.”
The half of Damon’s mouth I can see curves up.
Then he exhales and turns toward me, tugging at a lock of my hair that’s fallen free of my ponytail.
Not surprising considering it never seems to stay where I want it.
“Tough day in the classroom, huh?” he murmurs.
I lift a shoulder, drop it and know I’ve battled his stubbornness as much as he’ll let me…at least for today. “Eh. You know teenagers. They seem to do their best work by keeping me on my toes.”
“That’s true enough.” He nods toward the door. “Popcorn?”
“Why’d you ask earlier if you already knew where I was going?”
“Because it makes you crazy.”
“Who’s the annoying one now?” Grinning, I kiss him on the cheek and then, because the tension’s left him, I push to my feet.
He picks up his tablet, opens the notes app in preparation for his work during the game. “Hey, kid?”
I still, lift my brows in question.
“Why’d you ask about babies if you already knew I was worried about them?”
“Because sometimes I get to fix things too.” I pause. “And because I saw the look on your face when Riggs and Ella announced they were pregnant last week.” Bending, I put my lips to his ear. “You want it. And you’ll be fucking great at it.”
He stills, hands clenching on the tablet. “Kylie.”
“And also maybe…because it makes you crazy too.” I grin as he scowls again. “I love you, big bro.”
Leaving it there, I slip from the suite, make my way through the concourse teaming with people, taking my time as I watch the families and couples, the friend groups and the occasional gathering of work colleagues.
It’s a cacophony of people and noise and sensation, one that begins to quiet down as I snag my haul of delicious buttery-ness and make my way back, the first bars of the national anthem ringing through the arena.
I wait until the lights come up to drop back down into my seat, the announcer calling out the Sierra’s starting lineup.
They’re all familiar names—Bear and Riggs at defense, Knox at right wing, Lake at center—
“And at left wing…Colt Madden!”
Colt.
Gorgeous. Nice. A little quiet, though not as taciturn as Riggs.
And the only man I’ve met in years who makes my pulse speed, my stomach fill with butterflies.
Because…he looks at me.
Like a woman.
Not as a little sister, not as Damon’s little sister.
But as Kylie Connors.
As something he wants.
Which is…terrifying.
Maybe only slightly less terrifying than the fact that I would look at him exactly the same way—
If I wasn’t so damned scared.
Because if there’s one thing I want most in the world…
It’s to give in to my want for Colt.
But if there’s one thing I know…
It’s that will never happen.