CHAPTER FIVE – ROWAN
I watched as Kyra glided across the dancefloor, swinging around in Blake’s arms while she smiled and laughed alongside him. Her dancing had gotten much better over the years, which I knew Blake would enjoy greatly, but I was admiring the way her body moved, the way the fabric of her shirt fluttered over the curves she was hiding underneath. Kyra always had this unassuming beauty about her, this complete ignorance of how incredible she truly was. I knew it frustrated some of the guys, but I found the trait endearing about her.
Her humbleness was something I’d loved about her ever since we grew close in high school.
I tutored her in math when she was failing Algebra II. She came to me crying her freshman year, saying that it had been a mistake for her to progress two grades up. She was sobbing and begging me to talk her parents into putting her back in middle school, but I told her I was having none of it. I’d always been good at math and I loved it. I loved the black and white truth that numbers always preached. I offered my tutoring services to her instead and I coached her all the way through high school.
Back then, she’d been too young for me. But the closer we grew, the more I grew to adore her. We kept up our friendship through college and she still called me with questions regarding her math courses. I was more than happy to get on a video chat and walk her through things and I was actually able to use the tutoring I did for her as college credit for myself.
The moment she told me she wanted to become a teacher, I felt a surge of pride well up in my chest. No longer was she the kid I considered her to be. No longer was she the small little girl, too young to be in high school and crying into my chest. Instead, she had grown and flourished into this beautiful, vibrant woman with a passion to help others in any way she could and I couldn’t help but think that I’d had a hand in that.
And when I finally saw her as a woman for the first time, the desire that crashed over my body took my breath away.
My desire for her continued to haunt me even now as I watched Blake pass her off to Harper. She was twirling around, her hair fluttering around her face, and all I could do was take deep breaths while I watched her supple body vibrate with happiness.
This was what she deserved. Not the bullshit her ex must’ve put her through.
I heard the song winding down, so I threw back the rest of my drink. I slipped in between her and Harper, drawing her close to me while she craned her neck back. I was much taller than her; her head barely came up to my chest. I pulled her into my arms and allowed her to step up onto my feet and, all of a sudden, she could press her ear to my chest while I worked us across the room.
The song was low and slow and the lights dimmed around us. I could’ve sworn I heard her sigh into my skin. The twinkling lights and the festive Christmas decorations littered the Grange, making the silent moment between the two of us feel even more special than I’d anticipated.
But I wanted to talk with her. I wanted to talk to the woman my heart had fallen for.
“So, I think my kids are learning more than math from me,” I said.
“What makes you say that?” she asked.
Her voice was so light against my ears, I didn’t want her to stop talking.
“They all banded together and pranked me just before Christmas break set in,” I said.
“Ah, so they are learning something from you,” she said, giggling. “What did they do?
“The first one was they put a bucket of snow up above the door that pegged me when I walked in. It fell all into my coffee and everything.”
“The first one?” she asked.
“Following that was them supergluing me to my chair, so I had to have a friend of mine break into my house and bring me a pair of pants I could change into at lunch.”
“What did you do until lunch?” she asked.
“I wheeled around everywhere,” I said, grinning.
“You did not.”
“Swear on my life. Then I had one of my kids give me a little wrapped bag of Oreos to apologize and they were fucking filled with toothpaste.”
She threw her head back and laughed and I wanted to run my fingers through her long, honey-blonde tresses.
“But in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t as bad as what we did to the principal,” I said.
“I take it you headed up that project?” she asked.
“Yep. We wrapped the principal’s office in wrapping paper.”
“Wait, you did what?”
“Yep. Everything. Her phone. Her chair. Her desk. Her walls. Her files. We individually wrapped the stacks of paper she uses for her personal printer. It was priceless.”
“I bet she was pissed.”
“I’ve never seen a woman laugh so hard in my life,” I said. “Tears were streaming down her cheeks. But instead of unwrapping her office, she just monitored classrooms all day. So, it sort of backfired.”
“Oh, I bet all the teachers loved you for that one,” she said.
“Eh, they all helped in some way, so it wasn’t too bad,” I said, smiling.
“Well, you’re lucky you have kids that like you enough to prank you like that. My students hate me.”
“I’m sure they don’t hate you,” he said.
“They find me lame.”
“You’ve gotta be wrong. You, Kyra? You’re the furthest thing from lame. How do you know they think you’re lame?”
I watched her face grow stoic as she panned her gaze up to me. She rolled her eyes before she snickered and, for a split second, I thought maybe she was pranking me as well. I grinned at her and she started giggling and before I knew it, we were twirling around, laughing with one another.
“They call me ‘Miss Lame-caster’,” she said.
I stopped our twirling and I looked down at her face. She was shaking her head and sighing while I was trying to bury the smirk on my face. Of course, those kids would butcher her last name like that. The poor woman didn’t stand a chance.
I was trying not to laugh but the moment that familiar twinkle rose in her eyes again, I knew she was okay. I cocked an eyebrow at her while she grinned up at me, then the two of us burst out laughing once again.
“I’m so glad you aren’t letting your breakup get you down,” I said between my chuckles. “I had to say, I was a bit worried about you.”
She nodded at my statement, but I did see her face grow a bit more serious.
“You know, if you wanna talk about it, I’m here,” I said.
“I know, and thank you,” she said.
I continued to slowly work my way around the floor with her while she stood on the tops of my feet. I slid my arm tightly around her waist, pulling her closer to me while her eyes danced along my face. For a split second, I thought she was going to open up to me. Her chest filled with air and her beautiful lips parted for just a split second and I readied myself to listen. I allowed all the music and the lights and the people to fade into the background and her perfume to waft over my body while I made myself available to her.
But then Harper stepped back between us again and stole her away.
He danced her around the room as the lights came up. The song picked up tempo and I watched while Kyra’s giggles wafted against my ears. I considered chasing them down and stealing her back. I considered reclaiming my moment with her so we could talk more.
But the happiness on Harper’s face as he twirled her around the floor was unmistakable, so I let them have their moment together.
The truth was, Harper rarely came out of his room. Owen was the strong, silent type but he loved being outside and around other people. He was a listener. A helper. But Harper was a brooder. He kept to himself, never opened up to anyone, and never intermingled with others unless he had to.
He was like Dad in that regard and he seemed to be the only one of us that got that trait.
I knew a visit from Kyra would work wonders. It would get him out and get him talking and I could already see the good it was doing him as I stepped away from the dancefloor. He was really, truly smiling for the first time since we all descended upon the house for our Christmas vacation and the way Kyra was smiling at him warmed my chest.
I went and stood against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest. I watched the way Kyra moved, her toned legs carrying her across the floor. Her forehead was shining lightly with sweat while her shirt fell off her shoulder and, instantly, I wanted to draw figures on her skin with the tip of my tongue.
But my thoughts were interrupted once again when Blake came up to stand beside me.
I could see his eyes locked on Kyra, just like mine were, and in an instant, I grew jealous of the fact that someone else was staring at her.
“I wonder how Kyra’s doing with this whole breakup shit,” Blake said.
“I think she’s doing okay with it,” I said. “It seemed like she was about to talk about it before Harper butted in.”
“Ah, well,” Blake said. “Shit happens.”
The frown that etched itself onto his face told me everything I needed to know. He was still carrying that torch of his. The torch of his worst-kept secret.
If there was anyone who wore their emotions on their face, it was Blake. We pegged his crush on Kyra back when he was in seventh grade and had teased him relentlessly for it ever since. His crush on her was something we all knew he couldn’t conceal well and, by the look on his face, his heart still hammered for her. I knew he had been into Kyra well before seventh grade just by the way he always looked at her, but I never said anything.
I didn’t want to embarrass the poor guy.
That was actually one of the reasons why I kept my crush on Kyra to myself. The guys teased Blake endlessly for it and I didn’t want him to feel like he had some sort of competition. Kyra wasn’t a prize to be won. She was a wonderful woman who deserved her choice of man to spend her days with.
But his crush was also one of the reasons why I’d never made a move. How in the hell was I supposed to compete with my brother? How the hell was I supposed to be better than him? Blake had that mixture of mountain man and intelligence to him. He always wore his glasses, despite the fact that his beard was always a little too ragged. Blake was the peacekeeper; the one with the soft side. I was romantic, sure, but he was just soft. He was the one to always settle the disputes between Ethan and Chance and he had always been the sensitive one. His nose was always in a book, reading everything from crime thrillers to philosophy to erotic romance.
We called him a nerd and teased him for his crush, but the truth was, he was just as passionate about “manly” things as the rest of us. Blake was a diagnostician. He always knew why something broke before he fixed it and he could always tell when something was about to break based on a sound it was making. He was like that with people, too; always able to read them at the drop of a hat.
Maybe that was why he always wore his emotions on his face. Maybe he was just trying to level the playing field.
Nope. A man couldn’t compete with someone like Blake. He was the perfect mix of sensitive and manly. He could fix any fucking thing you set in front of him, whether it was yourself or a fucking dishwasher. He could regale you with poetry or take you down in football and he always had a quote from a book that seemed to fit every single type of scenario.
The silence overtook the two of us while we watched Harper and Ethan pass Kyra back and forth. Our shoulders pressed into the wall while we watched from the shadows.
I longed for Kyra, but as long as Blake was standing beside me, I knew she could only have eyes for him.
I mean, it only made sense.