Page 15 of Reckless
“It’s true. Rhett wears mostly pull-on boots,” Summer interjects with a slightly awkward laugh, clearly trying to cool the tension.
I wish she wouldn’t. I get off on watching Winter thaw.
Everyone laughs as Rhett exclaims, “Rude!”
Winter takes that opportunity to stand. She doles out an awkward hug and back pats to her sister while avoiding even turning her body in my direction. There are quiet whispers exchanged between the two women, and I feel a little tug at the sight.
I’ve come to love Summer like a sister, and I know from what Rhett has divulged that the distance between her and Winter pains her.
So, I tell myself that what I’m about to offer is for Summer, and not at all because there’s something undeniably intriguing about her sister.
“I’m going to leave too.”
“Already?” Rhett asks.
“Yeah, meet you at the gym tomorrow? Maybe Summer can make us cry?”
Rhett and Jasper laugh, because theyknowwhat I’m talking about from working out with her. Summer may be small and sweet, but put her in personal trainer mode and she becomes downright evil. I don’t think any of us have been in better shape than since we started working out at Hamilton Athletics.
“It’s not my fault you’re all so fragile,” she volleys, spinning to smirk at us. Yeah, I think she enjoys watching us struggle.
“That’s men for you,” Winter says tartly as she turns to leave without another word.
Her sister hits me with a pleading look. “Theo—”
I hold up a hand to stop her. “I’ll make sure she’s alright.”
Winter scoffs from down the hall, because of course she has superhuman hearing or something. And I just roll my eyes at Summer.
“Careful, that one’s got claws,” Cade offers right as Willa shoves a pointy elbow into his ribs.
I grin. “That’s okay. I like having my back scratched.”
* * *
“I’m not driving with you.”
Winter flies off the front steps into the storm, flakes swarming her like she’s living inside a snow globe.
“Okay.”
“I don’t even want to talk to you.”
“Well then, stop,” I tell her with a chuckle as I come to stand at the top of the stairs.
Her mouth opens and then closes. “You are so annoying.”
“Is that a medical diagnosis?”
“I...” She looks away and I swear I see her lips twitch. “Good lord, you are unbelievable.”
I hit her with my best knowing smile. “I get that a lot.”
She barks out a harsh, dry laugh as her head tips to face the perfectly dark sky. Snow adorns her lashes when she turns her attention back to me. “You’re also confusing. What do you want from me?”
The tone of her voice is different now. It bleeds exhaustion. From where I’m standing, she looks small and tired, like she might laugh or cry but isn’t sure which.
I don’t even want to keep needling her. What I want to do is give her a hug and tell her everything will be okay. I sense she needs that comfort.
