Page 35 of Echoes of You

Nash must’ve read something in my expression because he took my hand, weaving his fingers through mine. “It’s nothing too bad. Dan McConnell just showed up at the station throwing a shit fit because he didn’t make SAR.”

I groaned. “That man is the worst.” Even growing up, he created drama when he didn’t get his way. My gaze narrowed on Nash. “That wouldn’t make you all broody, though.”

Nash huffed. “I’m not broody.”

I circled Nash’s face with my finger. “Long-distance stare. Pinched brows. Locked jaw. Broody. Spill, buddy.”

“Sometimes, I regret how well you know me.”

I shrugged. “Too late now.”

Nash shifted in his seat, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. “He just said something that got under my skin.”

“And that was?” I prodded.

“That I’m dead weight my brothers carry.”

I stilled, an urge to give Dan a knee to the groin pulsing through me. Nash had always been carefree and a jokester. Growing up, he’d gotten into more trouble than you could imagine. It had earned him a bit of a reputation with his brothers and his family in general. They were always pulling him out of one jam or another.

But that wasn’t all there was to Nash. He had a quiet, serious side. A caring side. He would do anything for the people he loved—his family, Caden, me. Sometimes, his family forgot about all the ways he showed up for them and the community and only saw the goofy troublemaker. It cut more than they would ever know.

I reached over and squeezed his hand. “He’s wrong. You know that, right?”

Nash simply shrugged.

I squeezed his hand harder, bringing his focus to me for a split second. “You show up for every single person you care about. You’ve shown up for me more times than I can count. How many times have you taken one of the boys off Lawson’s hands because he was overwhelmed? Spent the day with your mom because you knew she missed her babies? Helped Grae with work at her house, even though she hissed that she didn’t need you?”

Nash shifted again, my praise making him uncomfortable. “That’s the bare minimum.”

“It’s not, trust me. Some families wouldn’t put the flames out if you were on fire.”

He stiffened. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know. But you need to see how rare you are. How caring. How amazing. Don’t listen to some micropenis talking a bunch of baloney.”

That startled a laugh out of Nash. “Micropenis?”

“Please, a man throwing a fit like that? He must have a small dick.”

Nash shook his head, but hewasgrinning again. Nash had an endless supply of smiles, but watching him as closely as I had all these years, I’d started to recognize all the different kinds. He had the forced ones he gave because it was expected of him. The devilish ones that told me he was up to no good. The easy ones that were authentic and full of life—like now. And the ones that were just for me. Tender ones that made my heart flip. That curve of his lips that had me hoping for far too long that maybe he could love me as more than just a friend.

“You know how to put things in perspective, Mads.”

“I try to help where I can.”

As Nash came to a stop outside the gates at his parents’ place, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to my temple. “Thanks. Needed that.”

He pulled away and released my hand at the same time so he could punch in the gate code. The loss of his touch left behind a heady buzz as if my system weren’t used to spending this much time in close proximity to Nash. I needed to build up my tolerance again.

Nash drove up the steep driveway, and memories assailed me. Countless drives in the middle of the night. Endless climbs up to his window.

“You still have the emergency ladder?”

Nash chuckled. “Did I ever tell you that my mom found it one time in high school?”

I straightened in my seat. “She did?”

He nodded.

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