Sin City Baby

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.

CHAPTER SIX - KYRA

As I spun around the dancefloor with my Lost Boys passing me off, I couldn’t help but forget all my troubles. I’d always loved my boys and, tonight, I started to realize how much I’d missed them. How much I missed their attention and their kindness. I lived with, and around, Landon for an entire year and nothing we did or said to one another compared to the way I felt around my boys. Now that I was around them, I was beginning to see how badly I had been treated by Landon: how badly my heart had been broken over and over again for the sake of love and pending nuptials.

I could tell Harper could see my far-off gaze, so he tugged me from the floor and snuck me outside.

“Here,” he said. “Take this.”

He passed me a flask, and I couldn’t help but shake my head. Harper might always keep to himself but you’d never know it while I was around. He was very quiet and much darker than his brothers. Always brooding over something or overthinking his actions. But he had always been in tune with others around him. He always seemed to know what they needed. He was always so endearing to me and, whenever he came out of his room for me, it always made me feel special.

Like tonight.

I took the flask and drank a bit, allowing the alcohol to hit my empty stomach. A few more sips found my cheeks flushed and that was when I felt my father approach my side.

“It’s getting late and I’m getting tired,” he said. “You ready to head out?”

But the truth was, I wasn’t ready to leave.

Not just yet.

“I can make sure she gets home all right, Mark,” Harper said. “If you’re all right with that.”