New Point (17 page)

Miles

I
stroll down the staircase like the king of the fucking castle. Hell if I’m not prouder than a guy who just won the Super Bowl. It’s impossible to wipe the grin off my face. This isn’t the typical
I got laid last night
smile. I’m radiating confidence because Zoe, my dream girl Zoe, lowered her walls last night and let me in.

There’s always a thin layer of tension hovering around her, but last night it disappeared. My sweet girl went soft in my arms. Boneless with pleasure, but also deeply relaxed. I want that again for her. For us.

I know what I have to do.

Stifling the grin and taking a more subdued cadence, I enter the kitchen to find her brother pacing back and forth with a scowl on his face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” he barks when he spots me.

I raise my hands in defeat. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

His response is heavy with sarcasm. “Please, tell me what I’m thinking.”

“That the prick from the grocery store is disrespecting your sister.”

Blake’s fierce glare lessens a touch.
“My sister doesn’t need any more problems in her life. Especially not from a guy who needs anger management.”

Any more problems?
His foreboding tone isn’t lost on me, but I have to let it pass for now. There’s a much more important goal to achieve.

“You are right, but I’m not that guy. I’ll admit, what I did was immature and stupid. If you understood my reason for coming off like a hothead, you might be less apprehensive about Zoe dating me.”

“Go on,” he grunts, crossing his arms across his chest.

“From the moment I saw her, I knew she was special, different from all the girls looking to live off their good looks or put others down with her intelligence. That’s what I see in Zoe – beauty, smarts, grace, compassion. Look, Blake, I’m sorry for coming off so strong, but I didn’t want to let her go.”

Zoe’s brother drops his arms to his side.

Normally I wouldn’t be sweating bullets in front of a girlfriend’s brother, but this is
Zoe
I’m fighting for, not some random girl I met at Blue in Green or a placeholder until the right girl comes along. Zoe’s that girl. The only girl. Her brother’s opinion and good favor matters immensely to me, whether he can see it or not. I’ll convince him eventually.

Zoe

B
y the time I’m dressed, I realize Miles has already left the room.

Oh, no.

After tossing my hair into a sloppy ponytail, I race down the stairs and into the kitchen. Blake’s frowning, but not too bad, as Miles leans against the kitchen counter opposite him with relaxed body language.

What went down here?
I wonder frantically. Both of these men are important to me, and I truly want them to get along.

“What are you doing here, Blake?” I ask as calmly as possible when I enter the room. Instead of aligning myself with either one, I walk to the sink and begin boiling water for coffee.

“Do I need a reason to spend time with my sister?”

Double oh, no. He sounds hurt.

Swiftly I turn around to face them. When I respond, I soften my tone.

“Of course not. But even when I lived a mile away, you’d usually at least send a text before coming over.”

“And when we lived at my place before you came here, did I have to call you before I came home?” Blake’s voice is tight, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m asserting my independence or if it’s because he realizes I’m an adult making her own decisions.

I cast a quick look at Miles who watches us with an indiscernible expression. “No,” I admit, wondering what he thinks about Blake and me living together.

At that moment, Miles decides to intervene. He crosses the floor to me and drops a tender kiss to my forehead. “Call me,” he requests. As much as I don’t want him to go, I’m glad he somehow understands I need to talk to my brother without him.

This was not how I wanted the morning after our first night together, but what can I do about that now? A memory of a smile crosses my face before it fades.

Miles extends his hand to my brother who takes it reluctantly. “Look, I’m serious when I say my only intentions are to treat your sister like gold. It sucks that I was a meathead in the beginning, but it was only because the thought of her being unavailable made me crazy.” His eye contact with Blake is unflinching, sincere. “You’ve raised her to be a magnificent young woman.” With that and a slight nod, Miles exits through the back glass door. I watch him go, mystified.

Magnificent?

The whine of the teapot startles me, and I move around the kitchen to brew the drink. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just… I meant what I said the last time you visited, Blake. About being more independent and standing on my own feet.”

Blake releases a breath and his hands fall from the defensive posture. “You’re right. Mom left you this house, it’s yours and I don’t have free reign.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it. You are welcome here
anytime
, all the time. A little notice would be helpful, though. Especially since I have started dating someone.” I smile weakly at him over my shoulder.

“You like this guy?” he asks gruffly, grabbing mugs from inside a cabinet and placing them on the countertop next to me.

“He’s good to me and good for me.” I glance at him over the percolating coffee, a tremulous smile appearing.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dating someone?”

“Call me crazy, but I didn’t want to jinx anything. He’s like no other guy I’ve dated,” I admit.

“As much as I want to be tough on the guy dating my baby sister, I have to give him credit for apologizing for being a douche.” Blake reaches over, smoothing a hand over the crown of my head. “Watching you grow up is my greatest achievement and hardest obstacle. I want to shield you from ever feeling pain again.”

My heart softens.
He’ll make such a good dad one day.

“Wouldn’t that be wonderful? If we could protect our loved ones from the sting of disappointment or a broken heart, life would be simpler. I would do the same for you, Blake, in a heartbeat.” I pour our drinks and hand one to him. “Coincidentally, Miles’ sister Etta is my new therapist.”

Blake raises an eyebrow. “Does Miles know…”

“No,” I answer sharply. “Not yet. Etta can’t be the one to tell him without breaching some ethical boundaries.”

“You have to tell him,” Blake says softly.

“What if he doesn’t want to deal with my drama?” I voice the concern that’s been plaguing me all along.

“Then he doesn’t deserve to be in your vicinity,” Blake says empathically. “Any guy worth his salt would admire you for what you’ve overcome.”

Though his words are meant to reassure, I can’t help but be concerned. Dating me isn’t like being with a normal, happy-go-lucky girl. My edges are rough at best, jagged and quivering on most days. What person in their right mind would want that burden?

A
fter the morning’s hiccup, Blake behaved more like my friend and brother than daunting father figure. This time I cooked him breakfast and then hesitantly asked if he wanted to hang out with Miles in the afternoon. He agreed, though somewhat grudgingly.

Now from the perch on my deck, I watch Blake and Miles set up those low-slung beach chairs on the sand. In my hand is a chilled pitcher of lemonade – homemade. Miles chatters to my brother who appears to be responding without malice. Warmth unfurls in my belly at the sight of them getting along.

If Miles and I are going to spend time together, Blake’s approval is vital because he’s the most important person in my life.

I make my way toward them when a flash of brown hair flies across the sand, then hurls itself at my boyfriend.

Boyfriend.
That sounds right.

I climb down the stairs to meet my group.

“Uncle Miles,” Duke greets exuberantly. Behind him Etta strolls casually, a massive beach bag swinging from her hand. I meet her gaze close to where Miles is introducing his nephew to Blake. Sunglasses mask Etta’s eyes and I desperately wish she wasn’t wearing the dark lenses so I could read them.

“Hey, Etta.” Geez, I sound scared.

“Zoe, glad to see you. Thanks for inviting us, Duke loves playing in the lake.”

“Oh, he’s always welcome to visit when I’m here.”

She tosses her arm around my shoulders, hugging me from the side. “Don’t look so freaked. Today we’re just friends.”

I release a deep breath. “Okay. Friends I can do.”

She cocks her head toward the boys. “That the older brother Miles mistook for your fiancé?”

I roll my eyes at the memory. “The one and only.”

Etta lets out a snort of laughter. “He’s a stubborn one, that Miles. I told him to talk to you, but he insisted otherwise.”

I toss a smile her way. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

“Well, I am pretty intuitive,” she says with a knowing smile. It should throw me off, her reference to our professional relationship because Miles is so close. Instead, I chuckle.

“You are that, Etta.”

“Cupcake, do we have a football?” Blake asks.

“Who is Cupcake?” Duke asks innocently.

With a self-depreciating grin, I settle into one of seats and dig out a spot of sand to balance the pitcher. “That’s me. On my first birthday my mom gave me a cupcake, and I ate it like a little fiend. Within two minutes there was more icing on my face than the cupcake. It became the longstanding family joke. Every year my birthday would come along and Mom would bring me a cupcake. Somewhere along the way they started calling me Cupcake.”

Bending down between me and Etta, who snagged the seat next to me, Blake pours himself a paper cup full of lemonade. “We going to bring back that tradition next month?”

Miles gaze snaps to me, a thoughtful expression in place. “What’s next month?”

“Cupcake’s birthday. My baby sister is going to be on the wrong side of twenty-five.”

I roll my eyes at my brother’s teasing.

“What day?” Miles persists.

“Saturday the twenty-sixth. Speaking of, I wanted to let you know I won’t be able to come down until Monday to celebrate.”

“What’s going on that weekend?” I’m more curious than concerned with Blake missing my birthday. Since my parents passed, it hasn’t been a big priority to commemorate the occasion.

“Public relations blitz for the team in New York.” He looks annoyed at the prospect. “Training camp starts the week prior and since they won the championship last year, the media will be hungry for anything on our squad.”

“You hate doing interviews,” I point out unnecessarily.

“Who is it with?” Miles asks.

“SportsHour.” Blake gives me an affable grin. “Need to take one for the team, literally.”

It makes sense Blake would accept this interview. SportsHour is, by far, the most popular sports news magazine show in the country. Chip Conway is known for hard-hitting questions. When it comes to sports controversies, athletes go to him for their interview. Kind of like Barbara Walters, but for the athletic community. That’s what scares me. There’s a tiny part of me that thinks the media could find and exploit my connection to my brother. The last thing I want is any more attention, because it takes away from my personal quest to toss away the painful memories.

“Are you worried what he’ll ask?” My voice is soft. What if he found out about me? What if he asked about Clarkes? I wouldn’t put it past the relentless journalist.

Etta’s sunglasses are now on her forehead and when she glances to me, it’s full of concern. Blake moves to my side, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Legal’s all over it. Personal questions are off the table or he’s…”–Blake casts a look to Duke who’s skipping around the sand–“screwed himself out of sponsorships.”

Miles watches the scene curiously, eyes flickering back and forth between my brother and me.

“I don’t want my sister getting hounded by people interested in the team,” Blake says pointedly to Miles, moving to his feet. I let out a short breath I didn’t realize I was holding when he changes the subject. “The football?”

I shake my head. “Sorry.”

“Come on Cupcake, it’s in your blood,” he teases.

Miles says he has one and jogs to his property to retrieve it. The boys toss the ball back and forth, giving Duke pointers on the proper way to manipulate the pigskin.

“Mark it down, we’re talking about this at our next session,” she tells me casually as we watch the activity in front of us.

I sigh. “I figured as much.”

The afternoon passes by pleasantly. Around lunchtime, Etta and I make sandwiches and we share them around the sand, telling stories from growing up.

Someone once told me life’s great mission is to build a family outside the blood relatives you’re born into. There, over bites of turkey sandwiches and sips of tangy lemonade, it feels like we’re building the foundation for a family outside of the traditional one. We tease Duke lovingly. Etta talks wistfully of her husband, and her impatience of his return. Blake and I share adventures from our travels together over the years. By the time the Wilson crew departs a few hours later, I’m serene.