Page 96 of Loverboy

Blane wasted no time invading our space, pulling us into a group hug and engulfing the two of us in his thick arms. He squeezed hard, swaying us back and forth and peppering us with obnoxious kisses that I wanted to be annoyed with, but couldn’t.

“Are you excited?” He pulled back with a grin. “We haven’t had dinner as a family in forever.”

“Thrilled.” I gave Jasper a dirty look, and he ignored it entirely.

We gravitated toward the kitchen, and I did my best to engage in conversation. Thankfully, Blane carried it with ease, filling us in on everything he’d been up to lately, from his recent trip to Japan to achievements he’d made in his karate classes, his tattooed arms flailing animatedly as he spoke.

Mom turned away from the stove with a wooden spoon in hand. Her deep brown eyes sparkled with the joy of an empty nester who, despite the lines of exhaustion in her face, finally had her home full again.

“Do you need help with anything, Mom?” Jasper asked straight away, moving to her side and rubbing her arm affectionately.

When it came to the people he loved, he was so instinctively considerate, a stark contrast to how he interacted with everyone else. Even though it was his mother, I still felt a pang of jealousy, knowing that he had room to dote on anyone other than me.

Greedy. I scolded myself gently.

“How’ve you been?” Blane asked from beside me, his tone gentler, more cautious.

It irritated me more than it should have. I corrected my posture, my first instinct to get defensive whenever someone took a tone that reeked of pity.

He was just worried. I knew that.

“Good.” I breathed through the urge to shut down completely. “Jasper’s been, uh, helping. I’ve been good.”

“Good,” Blane echoed. “Let him take care of you. Don’t be stubborn.”

The corner of my mouth twitched.

If only he knew what taking care of me had shaped up to be.

“I’ll try,” I said dryly.

“We love you.”

“I know,” I said, exasperated. “I love you guys, too.”

The strain in my chest slowly eased as things fell into their natural rhythm. Jasper helped Mom in the kitchen while Blane and I worked to set the table in the dining room, and the conversation grew lighter and more tolerable as the evening wore on.

I rolled my eyes as Blane brought in an oversized bowl of mashed potatoes from the kitchen, setting it on the dining table and looking insanely pleased with himself.

“Made enough?” I teased.

“I hope so,” he sighed.

If there were a love in his life, I was sure it was potatoes.

Jasper entered the room with coasters in hand, sliding them onto the table I was hovering next to, never quite comfortable enough to sit without being prompted. I sucked in a breath as our arms brushed, my nerves crackling violently beneath my skin. I tried to play it casual, looking past him to Mom as she drifted into the room, holding a pan with a worn dish towel underneath to dampen the heat.

In the center of the pan sat roasted chicken, skin golden and blistered, surrounded by vegetables. It was simple. It always was. We were never wealthy in the way that provided extravagant meals and the latest tech, only in the way that we always had each other. Something I’d forgotten, too consumed with my selfish desire to end it all.

I regretted trying to abandon everyone before they had a chance to abandon me.

“Watch it,” she muttered, more out of habit than necessity, as she carried the pan over to the table.

Jasper elbowed me gently, eyebrows raised as he glanced between me and the chair I’d been standing next to. I sat down quickly, and he touched my shoulder before taking the empty seat beside me.

“It looks great,” I forced out.

“Thanks, Mom.” Jasper’s foot nudged mine beneath the table.