Page 24 of Gravity

“Wrong. He. Needs… You.” Dad pauses. “D-don’t. Give. Up.”

I’m about to ask why he’s so certain that it’s me who Grayson needs when Wade comes in from the living room.

His six-foot frame towers over me when I’m not wearing heels. He’s your typical tall, dark, and handsome with chocolate eyes—the type of guy Makenna would eat for breakfast.

“Right, Pete. Are we ready for some physical therapy?”

“No.”

I laugh, as Wade stands with his hands on his hips looking at Dad. Their friendship is coming on so well already.

Jumping off the kitchen island, I head over to Dad. “You go and get stronger, Pop. I’m going to go hang out in the tree house for a little bit.”

I need to clear my head and it has always been my place to do that. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in there.”

I kiss him on the head, and he grasps my hand, looking up at me with conviction as he holds my gaze. “Time,” he whispers, and I know he’s referring to Grayson.

Smiling at him with a nod, I head out toward the treehouse and climb the wooden steps.

The smell of the old wood and the unused space hits my senses as I open the door. I open all the windows to let the air in as I look around. The day Dad had said he was going to build me a tree house, I’d been so excited. I’d asked for one for my birthday one year, but at the time, he had been deployed to Afghanistan. When he was home, he soon got to work on it along with Asher and Grayson. It was—and still is—the best treehouse I’d ever seen. You could practically live in here.

With solid wood walls and flooring, a makeshift bed of thick comfy blankets and two big beanbags, I’d spent the majority of my time as a young girl in here, reading and coloring.

Kicking the large bean bag with my foot to loosen it up a little, I sit down and get comfortable.

Looking up at the ceiling, I smile at the mural. Like I’m under the water, sea creatures and colors fill the space above me. Granted, I’ve outgrown it now regardless of my career in Marine biology, but it’s another happy memory. And one I don’t think I’d get rid of.

* * *

I wake with a jolt and for a moment try and work out where I am. It’s been a long while since I’ve fallen asleep in the tree house. As I focus on my surroundings, the smell of burgers hits my senses before I hear my brother shout for me from the bottom of the ladder.

“Nora. Wake up. I know you’re sleeping.”

My stomach growls, indicating I’ve been out here a while, as I shift myself up off the beanbag and stretch my arms above my head before standing.

“Nora?”

“Coming.”

Stepping down the ladder, I stand in front of my brother and study him for a moment. He looks a little restless, holding a bottle of beer. The dark circles under his eyes tell me he’s not sleeping, or that he’s been out getting drunk too often since he’s been home.

“Everything all right?”

“Fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because you’re here. And you’re drinking.” I realize I’ve hit a nerve when I notice his jaw tighten.

“Can’t a guy have a beer?”

“I never said you couldn’t. You’re just normally stricter with your health and fitness.”

“It’s just a beer,” he groans, “And I’m here because Mom asked me to be.”

“She did? Why, what have I missed?”

“Family barbeque if you’d have slept any longer. Mom wanted to do one of her spontaneous afternoon gatherings.”

I smile. She is a nightmare with arranging things without warning. “Last minutes are the most fun,” I say, quoting Mom’s words. “And if it helps, I’m starving.”