Page 82 of When We Were Us
It’s kind of adorable the way they all are with one another. I swallow over the lump that forms in my throat. It’s probably like this all the time with them, and I feel a little envious.
Finn is still inside, talking with Emily and Duke. So, I cross the deck and quietly settle on the swing. I like this unobstructed view of Hank’s life, and I’m not ready to make my presence known.
I watch as Hank steps up to take his shot and my breath hitches in my chest. He is everything I remember from back then, and more. The easy way he laughs and the set to his jaw when he leans forward slightly to line up his throw, with long, thick fingers, corded forearms, and well-defined biceps. I let my eyes roam freely over him, taking in all that wavy, chocolate hair and the stubble on his chin. The man is a walking wet dream, and he has no idea.
There is no sign of grumpy Hank in sight. He’s relaxed and at home here with his siblings. A wave of longing washes over me. I watch him take aim and land his shot with athunkof the beanbag in the farthest hole.
Just then, he turns with raised arms to double high-five both Hutch’s hands in victory. As he does, he catches sight of me from my not-so-subtle hiding place on the swing. I lift a hand and the grin that breaks across his face is nothing short of beautiful.
With a quiet word to Hutch, he comes striding across the grass. I stand and meet him at the railing. He’s so tall that his shoulders are even with it, and I have an insane urge to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. Instead, I rest my hands on the top rail and smile down at him.
“Hey,” I say softly.
“You came.”
I pull my brows together and smile. “Of course, I came.” I’m definitely feeling awkward, so I hitch a thumb over my shoulder. “Finn’s here, too. We came together.”
We stare at each other for a few seconds, and when I can’t stand the intensity of his gaze for one moment longer, I raise my head in the direction of his siblings.
“You guys look like you’re having fun.”
He nods with a laugh, turning his head toward them. There’s another chorus of groans and ribbing, this time directed at Nat, who just missed her throw.
“Cornhole is our thing. Hutch made this set a few years ago.”
I can see from here that it's made from gorgeous planks of reclaimed wood, and he’s used some kind of burning technique to etch out mountains and towering pines. On both boards, ‘Hayes’ is carved in block letters beneath the rustic scene in the same burnished script. Even from here, I can tell the detail is exquisite.
“We used to play girls against boys, but Hales and Norah are literal sharks. So, we had to start separating them onto different teams,” Hank says, bringing his gaze back to mine.
“Sounds like a pack of hyenas out here.” Finn comes out just then and loops an arm through mine with a nod to the others and a smile.
Across the grass, Nat says something smart to Hutch and chucks a beanbag at him, hitting him in the side of the face. He lunges for her, immediately stoops, and picks her up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She squeals and punches her brother in the butt cheek. Flailing around, she tries to break free from his grasp as he carries her to the deck. He comes to a stop next to Hank and drops her on her feet. Her eyes are dancing and her hair is a mess.
“This one has had too much wine. Keep her here.” He laughs.
She goes to punch him in the gut, but she misses, her knuckles connecting with the hard metal of his belt buckle.
“Ow! Shit!” She winces and bends forward, shaking out her fist and still trying to catch her breath through her laughter.
It’s clear from her smile and body language that she’s fine, but Hank gives Hutch a light shove and takes Nat’s hand, lifting it. “Let me see, Nat.”
Hutch rolls his eyes and Hank shoots him a look. It's one of scolding—older brother to younger. But then, Hank turns suddenly and flicks Nat right in the nose. She cries out in protest, shoving Hank back a step with a laugh. He and Hutch chuckle.
“You two are such assholes.” Her voice cracks with mock indignation as she rubs her nose and Finn and I both burst into laughter.
Hutch reaches out and squeezes her sides as he steps around her, coming up the steps. He’s huge—easily two inches taller than Hank and definitely broader, like a brick freaking wall.
He passes Finn and me with a playful wink behind black thick, square-framed glasses and a wide grin. Deep dimples crease his cheeks, and he flashes perfectly straight white teeth. His long, wavy hair reaches just below his shoulders. There’s an edgy look to him with all the ink, but that quiet, confident beauty that I remember from when he was a kid is still there too.
Finn and I exchange a wide-eyed glance. Hank clears his throat from the bottom of the steps,shaking his head as he watches his youngest brother.
“Come on, you kids. Supper’s on!” Emily calls as she and Duke step out onto the deck with arms loaded with side dishes not already on the outdoor table. A little girl with dark hair bursts out of the door next. She’s dressed in pink from head to toe, but the knees of her leggings are worn with dirt and grass stains.
“Finnley!” she says, running straight for Finn and flinging her arms around her waist.
“There’s my girl! I was wondering where you were.” Finn beams down at her, then bends to plant a kiss on her forehead.
“I was in Pop-pop’s den coloring and watching TV,” she says.
