Page 37 of Reclaimed Roots

Namely my asshole brother.

My boots thundered against the pavement as Main Street blurred past in a haze of muted colors and distorted reflections. My sights were set on my apartment building on the edge of town. It was farther than I'd normally walk, but I needed to blow off some steam.

It wasn't working.

My jaw clenched so tight I could feel my teeth grinding. The muscles in my neck corded with tension, a dull ache spreading across my shoulders. I flexed my fingers, resisting the urge to ball them into fists as I marched on. Natalie's frantic voice chased after me, breathless and pleading.

"Please—ow! Shit!"

I spun around so fast I nearly lost my balance. The sightbefore me knocked the wind from my lungs more effectively than any punch. Natalie was on her hands and knees on the sidewalk, delicate frame shaking. Her dark hair cascaded around her face like a curtain, hiding her expression from view.

I was at her side in three long strides. I crouched in front of her and took her by the shoulders, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her blouse. "Are you okay?" In my panic, the words came out harsher than I intended.

"No," she sobbed. "I'm not okay! Your stupid brother justkissedme, and it wasgross!"

A laugh bubbled up my throat, completely at odds with the situation. It took some serious effort to swallow it back.Fuck. Only Natalie could make me want to laugh at a moment like this.

"And then you ran away from me, and I tripped, and look"— she thrust her palm towards my face— "I'm bleeding, Jasper! I'mbleeding."

I examined the angry red scrape, and a pang of guilt twisted in my gut. If I hadn't stormed off like an idiot, she wouldn't have gotten hurt.

"Okay, drama queen," I said gently. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

She finally lifted her head. The sight of those big brown eyes brimming with fresh tears and that full lower lip trembling made my chest ache.

"I didn't want him to kiss me, Jasper," she said, her voice small and vulnerable. "I only wantyouto kiss me."

My heart did a somersault. Hope and desire fought withthe immediate instinct to protect myself. But the overwhelming need to comfort her won out in the end.

"I know, baby." The endearment slipped out as natural as breathing. I ran a hand over her silky hair, tucking some loose strands behind her ear.

Without thinking, I scooped her up in my arms. Her sharp squeal pierced the quiet evening air, equal parts surprise and delight. The sudden movement gave me a strong whiff of her vanilla perfume. It mingled oddly with the unmistakable scent of whiskey. If her unsteadiness and dramatics weren't indication enough, that smell confirmed it. She was drunk.

My mind swam with memories of sneaking beers from my dad's garage fridge in high school. Natalie's giggles, her flushed face and mischievous eyes—the image flashed before me, as real as the woman in my arms. Warm summer nights. Old blankets. The shadowed orchard. Her hair tumbling over her shoulders in glossy waves, strands clinging to the sheen of perspiration on her neck as she knocked back each swig.

A lifetime ago, yet I could almost feel the damp of the grass beneath us.

Fuck, how I missed those days. Everything seemed simpler, and I knew exactly where my life was headed.

I cradled Natalie against my chest as I continued the walk back to my apartment. She nestled her face into the crook of my neck and mumbled something indistinct. Her tears slowly subsided, her body relaxing into mine more and more with each step.

The streets were quieter then, and the faint sound of music drifted from a nearby open window. It was a melancholy tune that perfectly captured the bittersweet ache in my chest.

When we finally reached my apartment building, I shifted her weight to one arm, fumbling with my keys. It wasn't graceful, but I managed to get the door open without dropping her on her ass. The smells of home—old wood, coffee, and the faint trace of my cologne—greeted us as we stepped inside. I carried her to the kitchen and gently set her on the counter, making sure she was steady before stepping away to grab the first aid kit from under the sink.

"Lemme see," I coaxed, taking her hand in mine to examine the graze on her palm. It wasn't deep, but I cleaned it with an antiseptic wipe, wincing in sympathy at her hiss of pain.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, her eyes fixed on our joined hands. "For causing a scene. For drinking too much. For... everything."

I hated the defeat in her voice. The Natalie I knew was never defeated by anything. I tilted her chin up with my finger, needing her to see the sincerity in my eyes. "You have nothing to apologize for, you hear me? Chase is the one who crossed a line."

She nodded, fresh tears spilling over. I brushed them away with my thumb. "There," I said, placing a bandage over the wound and smoothing it gently. "All patched up."

"Thank you," she whispered.

Slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, I leaned in until my forehead rested against hers. "You okay, Nat?"

Her breath was warm against my lips as she exhaled shakily and nodded. The simple gesture, the closeness, made my heart race. I scooped her up again and carried her to my bedroom, relishing the way she fit perfectly in my arms. The floorboards creaked softly beneath our combined weight.

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