Page 60 of The Refiner

If it wasn’t quiet in the house, I would have missed the faint whimper that escapes Keys as she cuddles Tatum closer and whispers, “You and me both, kiddo.”

I don’t know what it’s like to lose a sibling. I can’t imagine the thought of losing one of my brothers, not having them available to answer my calls, talk shit to my face and call me out when I’m being an asshole.

I’ve taken my family—my brothers—for granted for so many years.

At any moment, I could lose the very people that made me the man I am today. And it sickens me to think of the possibility. And here Keys is, enduring that exact pain, pulling herself out of the pits of despair to help me.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I offer, needing one myself.

Keys swipes her cheek along her shoulder, drying the tears there. “I’ll take whatever you’re having.” Offering me a smile, she sits down on the couch. “Do you mind if I turn on the TV? I can’t take the silence anymore.”

“Not at all.” I try not to think about her sitting alone in Piper’s house with nothing but stillness and memories. “I’m pretty sure Tatum prefers the news.”

She shoots me a severe look and then laughs. “I bet she does, but Auntie Keys is here, so Tatum will just have to endure a feel-good romcom for tonight.”

We both know we’re not talking about an infant’s channel preference.

I groan at the thought of sitting through a cliché whirlwind movie romance with silly dates that would never happen in real life. “I haven’t watched a chick flick since I was in college.”

Keagan arches her brows. “Let me guess, you only watched them then so you could score after the ending credits.”

“Perceptive,” I muse, “and spot on. Women were much easier to please back then.”

“Women had simpler lives in college,” she counters. “Before their careers and responsibilities sucked their souls dry.” She stares at the TV, like she’s searching for something she lost in it. “Men like to call you a bitch when you try and take your life back, but what they fail to realize is that if we don’t adapt to our new lives, we’ll drown.”

I pour us each a glass of orange juice—it’s all I have other than booze. I don’t eat at home often, and if I’m going to drink, I generally prefer something a little stronger. But the juice was in my refrigerator, along with several fruits and vegetables with a note from Halle, telling me not to forget to take care of myself too.

I hadn’t opened the juice until now.

Sighing, Keys exhales a long breath and then shakes her head. “Never mind. Ignore me… I’m just…” She gazes down at Tatum, giving her a long look before continuing, “All I ever wanted to be was the best game writer atGameTales—to beat Ass Face with his subpar penis.”

Just as I take a sip of the orange juice, I choke. “What does his penis have to do with anything?”

Walking over, I set her cup of juice on the coffee table and sit in one of the chairs across from her.

“Men just have it so easy, you know?”

I nod, there’s no denying that fact. Unfortunately, her sister was a prime example. I knew Piper worked harder than most surgeons; yet, she was the last one to be added as a partner in her practice.

“Like our kiss…”

My gaze snaps up. I felt sure she wouldn’t mention the kiss.

“No one will judge you for kissing me. It’s like men get a free pass to do whatever they want. But women? Me? If someone saw us kissing at Piper’s funeral, they would burn me like a Salem witch. Whatever transpired between us today can’t happen again. I can’t taint my sister’s reputation and ruin mine.” She says the words like she’s trying to believe them too.

Flipping the channels, she goes on like she didn’t just admit her struggle out in the open—something I don’t know how to do.

“Go get some rest,” she insists, after I continue staring at her.

This woman is so different from her sister—so different from anyone I’ve ever met. She’s open, honest, with a spirit so bright, I doubt she could hide it under thousands of those boho bracelets she wears.

“Please.” Her whispered plea has my head snapping up and meeting her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

I can respect that, even if I don’t agree with it. Kissing Keagan was not a mistake. We’ve developed a friendship and, as crazy as it sounds, a relationship too. I care about her. And I know if it weren’t for the fear of tarnishing her sister’s reputation, she would admit she cared about me too.

Something between us is brewing, and it’s only a matter of time before it boils over.

“I’ll leave,” I agree, standing, “but only because you’ve had enough emotional turmoil for one day.”

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