Page 106 of Top Shelf
He finishes off the rest of his whiskey and wipes the back of his hand across his lips. “I’m sorry.”
I don’t say anything. I don’t even move. I’m not quite sure I could if I tried because it’s not at all what I expected him to say. Reed is…sorry? What the hell is that even supposed to mean?
I ask him as much, and he laughs dryly. “It means I’ve been a really fucking shitty brother.” He sighs loudly, leaning back against the booth like a weight has been lifted, and I have no doubt it’s because those words were just very hard for him to say. “And don’t try to argue with me about it. I?—”
“I wasn’t going to. You have been a shitty brother—but I’ve been a shitty sister too.”
We’ve both been mean to one another in so many different ways over the years that it’s hard to keep track of. Like when I ruined his Christmas break, and when I didn’t show for his game that night in New York. Even before that, too. I was snotty to him whenever he’d come home during the summers, and I know it’s because he was disrupting the life Dad, Angie, and I had built. It’s so silly to feel like Reed being there ruined it all, especially since he’s Angie’s son, but that’s exactly how I felt. I’d already lost one mother, and I didn’t want to lose another.
I know now that wouldn’t have been the case, but back then, I had no idea. I was just trying desperately to hold on to something that felt good after feeling crappy for so long.
He nods. “Maybe, but you were young. I wasn’t. I was old enough to know better and do better. And I should have, but I didn’t. I was fine with being a jerk to you, so it’s no surprise that your brattiness toward me has kept up.”
All I can think of is Gavin calling me a brat. He loves it now when I get sassy with him, but what if I get to be too much for him, too?
“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”
I snap my gaze back to Reed. “What?”
“Whitlocke. You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”
I have no doubt I look like one of the fish in Gavin’s tank at this point, my mouth floating open, then closed.
“You know?” I finally manage to ask.
“He told me earlier.” His eyes narrow. “Well, not so much told me, but I pieced it together. I saw your name light up his phone.”
Shit. I knew I shouldn’t have called him so soon after the game. I couldn’t stop myself, though. He was worried going into this game because it was against Vegas, and they’re always tough competition for the Serpents. They have a history together. So when Seattle kicked their ass and Gavin earned two points on top of that, I wanted to talk to him.
“I hate that you felt like you couldn’t tell me about this,” Reed says. “I mean, I don’tlovethat you’re…doing whatever it is you’re doing with my teammate and close friend, but I would have understood eventually. I’ve grown a lot in the last few years too, you know.”
He doesn’t have to say it has to do with Auden. We both already know it does.
“I don’t want to be the kind of brother you hide stuff from. I don’t like that you feel you can’t tell me things. And I really, really don’t want you to think I hate you.”
Emotion clogs my throat, my nose grows heavy, and my eyes begin to water. I know exactly what it means—I’m about to cry.
“I don’t, Van. I don’t hate you, okay?” Reed says, his voice shaky and pleading. “I…I love you.”
I break. Tears fall down my cheeks, and my shoulders shake as sobs rack through me. I don’t know when Reed scoots over to me, but suddenly his arms are wrapped around me and he’s hugging me for the first time in… God, I don’t even know how long. Maybe ever? I don’t know. I just know that it feelsgood.
I throw my arms around him, holding him just as tightly, and I let the cries come. They’re not just because of Reed and hiswords; it’s more than that. It’s everything we’ve missed together over the years we’ve been at each other’s throats. It’s the support we could have been showing, the cheering for the same team, the sibling camaraderie, like making fun of how much our parents love each other together. It’s all those things we never got to do because we were too busy thinking the other was enemy number one.
“Fuck,” he mutters, releasing me first, and not that I’d ever bring it up to him, but I see it when he swipes under his eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
I shake my head, grab a napkin from the dispenser, and wipe my wet cheeks. “It’s okay. I just didn’t realize how much I needed that.”
“Me either,” he agrees, and I believe him.
Reed scoots back to his side of the bench, and we sit there for a few quiet moments, trying to collect ourselves. This is a lot more than what I bargained for today, but I can’t deny how much lighter it makes me feel. My relationship with Reed has always bothered me, and I wonder if deep down, that’s why I came to Seattle when I needed to get out of New York. Maybe it was just another part of my life I felt I needed to heal.
“You know,” Reed eventually says, “I think I didn’t like you because you represented everything I had lost.”
I understand that completely. “And I think I didn’t like you because youhadeverything I had lost.”
He nods. “We missed out on so much because of that. I don’t want that for you anymore. I don’t want things to pass you by. I don’t want you not to know what love is like. I want you to be happy, Van. I want you to get everything you ever wanted.”
“I want that too.”
