Page 72 of Playful Kris

29

KRIS

I’ve been sitting in the same spot for the last hour, watching Kameron dance with all the bridesmaids and Ruby.

My brother sits beside me, his eyes only for his wife with a small tilt to his lips as he looks across the dance floor at her. I pick up my beer, take a drink before sitting it back on the table between us and clear my throat.

“I’m proud of you, Kaleb.”

His head slowly turns to look at me, and the moment turns emotional for a minute.

We normally don’t talk to each other like this, but I know he knows that I am proud of him, that I love him, and I’d do anything for him. And Ruby, too.

“Thanks, brother.” He sighs, reaching between us to tip his bottle against mine.

“You deserve happiness.” I look over to Kameron, she catches me staring and offers a soft smile.

“So do you, you know?”

I raise a brow, peeling my eyes off Kam to look at him.

“You can have this too, you know?”

“This isn’t for me.” I shake my head. “You know that. Nothing good comes of it, but I hope like hell it does for you,” I tell him honestly.

When we were little, I tried so hard to shoulder most of that shit. He didn’t deserve to feel as much as I did, and he was a little younger so things were different for him.

“Kris,” he turns to face me, leaning onto the table, “you aren’t like Mom or Dad. What they had was fucked up, everyone knows it. Hell, even they know it. You have got to let go of shit that happened years ago and quit letting it fuck with your life. A life that you could build with someone you love.” He pauses, looking toward the dance floor. “Someone like Kameron.”

His words might as well be a bag of bricks coming straight at my face. I lean back in my chair, my eyes widen, but I try like hell to pretend like they don’t affect me.

Things between me and Kameron feel good this week. Too fucking good. Which is why tomorrow is going to fucking suck ass when we go our separate ways. I’ll only have minimal contact with her until the Christmas Bazaar, and then I won’t have to be tempted by her anymore.

Therefore, the what-ifs that run through my head sometimes of me and her won’t happen either.

“Dance with me, husband.” Ruby appears next to the table, smiling down at my little brother, and taking his hand.

“I’d love to,wife,” he drawls out the word, making her smile brighten her entire face.

I watch the two of them walk off to where she was just dancing with all the girls. Kameron isn’t out there, so I’m assuming she’s went to the bathroom and will be back in a few minutes.

The seat my brother was just in is suddenly occupied by my mother, and I grunt.

“Mom,” I sigh.

“Son,” she mimics my same attitude, and I fight to not roll my eyes. “We need to talk.”

“Kinda busy here.” I take another pull of my beer.

“Ah, yes. Looking for Kameron on the dancefloor, the same thing you’ve been doing for the last hour.” She scoots her chairs to the side of the table so that we’re side by side now. “We need to talk, and this seems to be the only time I can get you alone.”

I smirk. The plan is working then.

Or, well, it was until she found her opening that is.

“I want things to be better between us, son. I want you to get to know Brian, and I want to see you regularly, talk on the phone, get updates about your life.”

I stay silent, my eyes trained on the dance floor as I wait for Kameron to re-appear.

---