Page 12 of Reckless
“Sure.” I drop my gaze back to my plate. “No problem at all. I’d be happy to help in any way I can.”
Summer reaches under the table and gives my knee a reassuring squeeze. I look over at her, wondering how two people raised in the same household could have turned out so differently. Opposites. Winter and Summer. Our names weren’t just a stupid gimmick, they actually represented us somehow.
But I know the answer. Our parents never split from each other, they just split up everything around them instead. One team versus another.
I got my mom. Summer got our dad.
Rhett pipes up now, talking about a game of Christmas shinny, and how he and Sloane cleared the ice for it. Sloane, the dainty blonde sitting beside Harvey, launches into a story about a similar time she and Jasper played at some other farm.
And she’s talking about NHL superstar Jasper Gervais. One of my dad’s clients, and the man who is sitting beside her, staring at her like she can shoot rainbows out of her vagina or something.
I don’t even think he’s listening. He’s just staring at her like she hung the moon. It hurts to see his expression. I hate feeling jealous, but so much of what I see here tonight fills me with that dark, bitter emotion.
I could burst with it.
Not like I begrudge anyone else what they have. It’s more that I long to have it too.
It makes me realize what I’ve missed out on all these years. It makes me realize all the things I don’t have.
The things I never will.
For the rest of the night, I observe. I pull back a bit, feeling like an outsider. Everyone is so content. And I’m so...not.
It’s almost like watching bacteria grow in a Petri dish through a microscope. I can see it happening. I can understand why it’s happening. I can get close enough to touch it. But I’m still just looking through the lens. Studying.
We’ve all retired to the spacious living room area around a roaring fire, and I’m sitting in an impossibly comfortable armchair when Theo saunters up.
Again.
He’s fucking relentless.
He’s only a few feet away, eyes narrowed in on me, all confident swagger and singular focus. But Willa draws his attention. Her eyes dart momentarily to mine, and I give her a small smile. I like Willa. She’s been a sister to Summer in ways that I never could.
And I think I’ll always love her for that.
“Theo, lady-killer. How goes the hunt these days?”
His eyes stay fixed on mine for a beat, more focused determination than playful nonchalance. Suddenly, I want to know what the hell he was about to say to me. I’ve been avoiding him all night, and Willa is perceptive enough to have noticed. But her timing is all wrong.
“Willa. How are you feeling? Has anyone told you lately that you’re glowing?” He sidesteps the question so effortlessly. So playfully. Even she can’t help but grin and roll her eyes at him.
There is something irresistibly charming about Theo. Something boyish and fun. He’s not jaded yet. Perhaps that’s the appeal of a man whose outlook on life appears to be “glass half full” when I’m a “glass half empty” kinda gal most days.
It’s Cade, the oldest Eaton brother, who stomps up and flops down beside Willa, draping a possessive arm over her shoulders. “Leave it to you to hit on a pregnant woman, Theo.”
Everyone laughs, even Theo. But I see the way the back of his neck stiffens, like the joke had some bite that no one expected. Like he’s forcing himself to hold his head up high when he doesn’t feel like it.
I know because I do that too.
“Jesus, man, she’s carrying your baby and living in your house. What do you need? Your name tattooed on her forehead? I’m just being friendly.”
Rhett walks in now. “Yeah, buddy. I’ve seen just how friendly you can be. I’d go so far as to say you’re known for beingfriendly.”
Theo smiles and rolls his eyes. “Rich coming from you, Eaton.”
“Hey...” Rhett’s hands come up, his beer held in one. “I was Goldilocks. All the porridge was too hot or too cold. Finally found one that was just—”
Summer cuts him off with a feigned look of exasperation on her face. “Please do not finish that sentence. Any analogy that compares me to mushy cereal is just...no, Rhett. No.”
