Page 7 of Knotted Laces

Athena, or Ats as she prefers to go by, is here, hanging back as usual—a part of the festivities but also separate—as she stands in my kitchen talking to my brothers.

Everything in me goes still.

BecauseAthena, as shehatesto go by, is looking like the goddess she is, her curls flowing around her shoulders, an Eagles jersey clinging to her delicious body.

She laughs at something Lex says as she nibbles on an apple oat cookie.

And I want to drop to my knees in front of her and beg her to see me.

Unfortunately, that will never be.

I’ve had a decade to come to terms with that fact.

A decade to understand that she won’t ever be mine.

So, I pull it together, tuck down the draw I always feel when she’s near, but when she turns…

I lose all semblance of focus as my brain processes what’s on the back of her jersey.

It’s my name. My number.

Mine.

Only…not.

Because she’s in love with my brother.

CHAPTER TWO

Athena

The kiddos are sprawledout on blowup mattresses in the living room, their limbs tangled with their cousins’, blankets printed with brightly patterned children’s television show characters tucked in around their little bodies.

It’s a beautiful sight, one that tugs at even my hardened-to-ice heart.

Innocent and loved and protected.

Unlike what I had?—

I clamp my teeth together, nearly taking off my own finger as I shove one of Martha’s homemade oat cookies into my mouth.

Oat and cookie.

Those things don’t sound like they should go together and taste like anything but sawdust, but Martha Jackson—matriarch of this family of blood and friendship—is a fantastic cook.

It’s why I keep visiting them.

Not theonlyreason, of course—though it definitely drew me in the door in the first place and made it so I didn’t complain all that much when Lex initially dragged me along on a Jackson family vacation almost a decade ago.

He’s a sneaky bastard who had primed the dragging by bringing cinnamon rolls into the break room at work—cinnamon rolls that disappeared faster than our former boss during a team building exercise.

Ooey, gooey, and deliciously buttery. Add in being topped with a thick orange-zest and cream cheese frosting and…

Well, there’s a reason Martha gives me a freezer full of them every Christmas.

And why I always send her for a full body spa day in return.

I set the cookie down and take a swig of my beer, trying to focus on cinnamon rolls and apple oat cookies.

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