Page 22 of Made for You
None of them commented, but they followed me inside. My eye snagged on Nikki as she hauled a trash bag into the can Rosie kept parked at the side of her garage. My fool heart flipped at the sight of her tiptoeing in her slippers, her hair in a high ponytail creating a perfect little arc at the back of her head, and her cozy-looking clothes making me wish I could wander over and wrap her in a hug.
What is wrong with me?
I didn’t have these kinds of thoughts. Sure, I wanted what Wilder had, but I needed time. Kiley needed time. There’d be… time.
When she turned and saw us, she lifted a hand in a quick wave, then scuttled inside. It took me a second to let my hand fall away.
“Oh, I see,” Kenny said.
My head snapped to him. “What do you see?”
He shrugged. “I have eyes.”
I brushed that off, and they followed me inside. I didn’t have the mental energy to guess what they would say or how I’d respond. And honestly, part of me was relieved they’d just showed up. There’d been no time to dread the conversation like I would’ve if we’d made plans. It was a good old-fashioned ambush, and though I should’ve felt annoyed, I couldn’t ignore the twinge of relief that persisted through me dropping my bag onto the counter and unloading my lunch container, my coffee mug, and my water, and then pulling out beers from the fridge and distributing them to each man.
“I might have something I can dig up for dinner.” I’d planned on leftovers since Kiley was eating with her club.
Beast just blinked at me, his gray eyes unimpressed or somber or… you know what? I had no idea, as usual with him, but he didn’t respond. Tristan made a sound, and Wilder patted my back. “Pizza’s on the way.”
Wow, they’d really planned this. Kenny uncapped a beer and handed it to me, then turned and tromped into the living room. My eyes shifted to Wilder, who just raised a brow. We loved Kenny, but he was the youngest in a few ways. It wasn’t just that he’d served the least time with us, as though serving in the EMU—Exceptional Missions Unit—was the only thing that garnered respect. He would’ve done twenty in the Army and most of that with EMU if he hadn’t ended up with a medical discharge after an injury left him with only three fingers on his left hand. There were people who still served active duty with missing fingers and even limbs, and Kenny would’ve been the one to do it, but when he heard about Saint, we managed to woo him and his borderline toxic positivity over to us. It made his nickname—Barbie—all the more apt.
I loved the kid—I did—but sometimes, his boundless energy in the face of what had been alarming tragedyplusdifficult injury just didn’t make sense. I had my own messed-up past, and I’d done a decent job of spinning it in a positive way, but times like this, when I just wanted to mope a little and try to avoid thinking about my pretty neighbor, I wasn’t so sure I appreciated his persistent cheeriness.
Slumping into a chair opposite Wilder, with Kenny and Tristan on the couch and Beast standing like that was most comfortable for him, I didn’t even fully raise my hand but waved them on in abring it ongesture. “Let’s have it. Commence intervention, or whatever this is.”
Wilder’s gaze didn’t waver, yet his eyes narrowed a bit in warning. Kenny chuckled, Tristan shook his head just once, and Beast made a bullish, impatient sound.
“Fine. You don’t want a preamble, here we go. You’re working too hard, taking on too much, and you need your own life.” Kenny tipped his metaphorical cap to me despite currently wearing an actual ball cap.
“I have more of a life than any of you saps with the exception of Wilder.”
I gave him a nod of acknowledgment. He had come into his own in ways I couldn’t have imagined and yet had always hoped for. He’d opened himself up to loving Sarah, and man, did he do it well. I’d never seen a happier woman, even with the challenges a new baby and sleepless nights brought. He’d done that. And he’d kept boundaries with work that allowed him to maintain it.
When you spent twenty years eating, sleeping, breathing, andlivingyour work like we had in the Army and especially in special operations, it didn’t come easy to suddenlystopdoing that. I’d looked forward to the change, but I could admit I hadn’t exactly nailed down the balance thing.
“It’s not only about family,” Tristan said quietly.
Regret niggled at me for the suggestion. Who was I to say that the only way to have a life was a wife and kids? I didn’t have either; maybe I never would. But I did have Kiley, and I didn’t appreciate the insinuation that she didn’t count.
“I know. I didn’t mean to make it sound like it did. But—” I sighed. Why was I fighting this? Why not just man up and admit what’d been going on?
“Come on, Jaws. Hit us with it,” Kenny urged.
Beast grunted, face unchanged, but even the small show of support did its job.
Running a hand through my hair, I sighed again. “I’m tired. Just kind of… worn out. I think maybe it’s like what happens right before you retire or something, but I didn’t have that because I was focused on Kiley and getting our lives figured out. I had energy from getting the business set up and recruiting and I just kept working. I never stopped—never wanted to.”
They all nodded along, clearly understanding. I wondered if it felt this way for any of them, but it couldn’t. Not exactly, anyway. None of them had taken over guardianship of a sibling twenty-plus years their junior.
“It’s okay to be tired,” Wilder said, his steady voice one I always listened to. Each man here had my respect, but Wilder and I had been through italltogether these last two decades. It was only this last year or so when our lives had truly diverged.
“I know. I’m just not sure how to… recuperate. Get over it. Whatever.”
Kenny snapped and pointed at me. “That’s the point, though. You don’t just get over it. You rest. You stop doing everything for everyone. You’re only one person and you’ve got a lot on your shoulders. Like you said, none of the rest of us has any idea what it’s like to be responsible for a teenager, even Wilder.”
Wilder made a regretful sound. “My mother claims teenagers are exponentially more challenging than babies, and I tend to believe her, knowing what I put her through. My baby has nothing on Kiley.”
“Kiley’s great, though.” Even if I hadn’t quite cracked the code with her yet. I mean, we had a good thing going, but something about this new school year starting and maybe getting a year older made it feel like we were growing farther apart, not closer. “It’s more that the things I normally enjoy doing aren’t as energizing. I feel drained and I don’t like that.”
