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I frown. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I don’t have it in me to instill that type of connection with someone. Maybe I’m destined to be alone.
There’s only one person I can see spending the rest of my life with, but she’s off-limits and not interested in living here. She made that clear when she packed her bags for college and never came back. Even when Layla, her best friend, moved back a few months ago, Harbor dug her heels in the ground and stayed in San Francisco.
Do I want her because I can’t have her? Is my obsession an easy excuse to cover the fact I can’t commit? What in the fuck? I’m having a midlife crisis in my mid-twenties.
“You should come over sometime and have dinner with us.” Dakota smiles. “We’d love to have you.”
“Thanks. I’ll do that.”
Harbor stands on the threshold with a platter of sandwiches in her hands while eyeing me up and down with a disapproving expression on her face.
“I’ll talk to you later. Vargas wanted me to drop something off to Austin.” She navigates through the maze of guys on her way to him.
The door smacks shut behind Harbor. Since I’m the closest to her, I jog to the stairs. “Here, I’ll take those for you. Thanks for bringing them out.”
“Sure.” She tips her chin out with a stilted movement, and my eyes are drawn to the pulse point at the base of her neck. The thumping is mesmerizing. I want to place my lips on her skin to feel the blood pounding in her veins. The woman has the most exquisite neck and jawline, making her the perfect model for Layla’s photography.
The rest of her is fucking fine also. Heat climbs up to the tips of my ears.
If I wasn’t intent on staying in Meadow Bay and her brothers wouldn’t string me up by the balls, I’d convince her to take a roll in the sheets. Maybe then I could get over what her lips look like when she’s pouting. Or how her eyes narrow when she’s angry. And I could finally stop imagining what her body would feel like against mine when she is desperate for release.
My head spins. How long have I been standing here with my hand out, staring at her?
“Girlfriend?”
I blink, trying to make sense of what she’s saying. “What?”
“Are you and Dakota back together?”
“No. She’s married to Vargas. We work together down at the station. They have an adorable little girl who’s about 11 months old.” I rotate my shoulders to ease the tension in my back and drop my arm to my side. Shit. I was supposed to take the plate of sandwiches. “Here, let me get that.” I take the platter from her hand, being careful not to make any contact with her.
“Oh….” Her eyes dart from mine as she swipes her palms on her shorts. “Thank you.” She spins on her heel and grasps the door handle.
“Why? Would you be jealous if she was?” My heart thunders in my chest.
“What?” Her head spins around so fast that her neck pops.
What in the fuck are you doing? She’s not jealous. Why would you even say that? Way to look like the biggest idiot here. “I was teasing. I know you aren’t jealous.”
“Cole!” Connor barks. “Put the sandwiches down and get your ass over here.”
“And don’t talk to our sister.” Austin laughs and tosses the football into the air, catching it with his large hands. “Pipsqueak has cooties.”
“Cooties?” Her eyes flash with anger. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re not 12 years old.”
“And you’re not dating one of our friends. Get your head out of the clouds and get inside,” Connor says.
“You’re an asshole.” She snatches the door open and disappears inside as the door smacks shut behind her.
“What in the fuck is wrong with you?” I stomp over to the table and drop the plate down with a bang. Before one of the perfectly triangled sandwiches lands on the wooden surface, I brace my hand against it and position it back on top of the pile. “There’s nothing wrong with your sister, and I’m tired of hearing you talk shit to her.”
The air around Connor and I crackles as the mingled scents of turkey, roast beef, and ham fill my lungs with each ragged inhale, and the silence behind us is deafening. Shi-i-i-it. I’ve never been this adamant that they leave her alone, and it’s going to bite me in the ass.
Am I irritated that they’re picking on her? Or am I mad that I’ve had feelings for her for years, and it’s pointless? Reality threatens to punch me in the gut, and I don’t think I’ll like the answer.
LEAVE! The word screams in my head. Damn it, I can’t leave. My sister dropped me off on her way to grab some groceries for my niece and nephew. Pretend your comments weren’t a big deal.
Right. Like that’s going to work. I came to her defense in front of our friends and all four of her brothers.
