I'm Not Your Enemy (Enemies 2)

“It’s fine.” It didn’t feel fine, but it would. Eventually. “I reckon he wants to see me about as much as I wanna see him.”

She turned to me at that, and her brows knitted together. “Do you have a reason for not wanting to see him?”

For real? Christ. Well, buckle up, sis. I had a story for her, and unlike David, our sister knew what a toxic relationship was. So I told her what I’d told him. I emphasized for good measure. I mentioned the chest pains I’d had, how he’d unnerved me every goddamn time I saw him, the anxiousness, the uncertainties that’d appeared out of nowhere. And the sickness. The twisted obsession and ever-present urge to go back to what clearly harmed me.

She probably needed to process once I was done, because she kept looking at me like she was waiting for the punch line. I reluctantly moved my feet from the chair across from me so I could stand up and turn the hot dogs, which should be done in a minute or two.

“I’m sorry, I…” She shook her head as if to clear it. “So—I mean… Wow. So that’s why you don’t want to see him?”

“Ain’t that enough?” I asked in disbelief.

She widened her eyes at me, and humor seeped into them. “Uh, no, attraction jitters and fear of fallin’ in love are reasons to see him more, you wackadoo.” Her words caused me to recoil, and I couldn’t fucking believe her. But she wasn’t done. “Under normal circumstances, I would’ve jumped straight into playing matchmaker, because God knows y’all’re perfect for each other—you’re both busy acting like morons at the moment—but Teddy comes first. He worships the ground you walk on, and he’ll be so happy when he hears you’re staying.” At that, she cocked a brow. “If that’s what you’re actually doing.”

It sobered me up, and I faced her fully for this. I’d improvise my apology. “I’m stayin’, Soph. And I’m very sorry I’ve given you reason to doubt that. No more chickenin’ out from me. I was in over my head, and the last thing I wanted was for that to affect you and Teddy—and Dylan, for that matter.” I could imagine him cleaning up my mess and being there for Soph and Teddy. “It won’t happen again, honey. No lies either. I’m so sorry.”

She smiled a little and squeezed my hand. “I’ve never received the famous Blake Kidd apology before. I forgive you.”

The relief poured into me like a nice river on a hot summer day, and I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

Unless we wanted to eat burned hot dogs, it was time to take them off the grill, so I flipped the lid of the cooler and used it as a platter.

“I’m really happy you’re staying, Blake. Finally, I’ll have someone to go watch games with,” she said with a giddy smirk. Hell, I mirrored it. I missed watching football with her. “I know just the spot, too. I didn’t get to show you last time, but there’s a place in the Valley—the owner’s from Savannah.”

“Fuckin’ A.” That was fantastic. “Maybe it’s the place I drove by this mornin’.”

“It couldn’t have been, because there would be no doubt,” she chuckled. “The windows are completely filled with bumper stickers for Southern teams—except for Alabama. No Crimson Tide, no Auburn.”

“I love the place already.” I grinned and shook the mustard.

Conversation lulled as we prepared our hot dogs, and Soph brought out the two bottles of beer too. They were still cold, thank fuck. Christ, how the day had turned around on me. Here I was, thawing out in front of a fire, having hot dogs and beer with the best sister in the world.

“Man, oh man. This beats the chicken I’m defrosting in the sink,” she said with her mouth full. “By the way, before I get off track again. About what I was saying—Teddy comes first. You and Sebastian will have to figure out your crap on your own, but I demand a truce when Teddy’s around. Y’all’re so important to him, Blake. You better play nice.”

Maybe not the best sister in the world.

“Or we take turns spendin’ time with Teddy and Isab—”

“No, no, no, and no,” she sang. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. Tomorrow after work, when Sebastian and I head down to Seattle, I’ll tell him you’re back in town. And once he’s done throwin’ a fit, I’ll remind him of what I’m telling you right now. Teddy’s only home from Thursday nights to Sunday afternoons for another two months, so those days are sacred. Those days are reserved for family, starting with pizza as soon as we’re back in town around seven thirty. It’s a new tradition we created when he started the program. Because Friday disappears—Teddy’s in school and wants to catch up with his friends basically until he passes out. Sunday’s gone too, ’cause it’s all laundry and packing and driving him back down to Seattle.”