Page 91 of Lessons in Heartbreak

“Should I go? I can give you guys some time alone.”

“No way,” he said immediately. “If Barrett shows up, I’ll need you to protect me.”

Chapter Twenty-OneGriffin

It took six hours and thirty-two minutes. Not too bad, considering he had to get home from the office, book a flight, land in Denver, and drive out to Welling Springs.

Bam, bam, bam!

“Griffin!” my brother’s voice boomed through the door.

At the kitchen island, with plates full of pizza and sliced watermelon, Maggie and Bryce froze, eyes widening.

Ruby was in the bathroom, and I briefly considered hiding in there with her just to see how long it would take Barrett to sniff me out. I gave my niece and nephew a quick, encouraging nod but felt my face fall into a grimace the moment I turned toward the door.

I couldn’t exactly remember when this started, but for as long as I could remember, being around my brother made me feel like the annoying little kid whom no one trusted with the big, important stuff. And no matter how much I wished it not to, my stomach curled tight with anxiety as I neared the door.

It wasn’t even my fault, and I could feel my guard sliding up and locking into place when I flipped the dead bolt and yanked open the door.

For a moment, all we did was stare at each other. To the rest of the world, we looked exactly the same, but I never, ever felt like I was looking in a mirror when faced with Barrett. There was something different about his eyes to me, the way he never smiled. The set of his shoulders always made it seem like he was carrying the weight of the world.

Maybe he was. Single dad to two scarily intelligent kids with a knack for subterfuge, and an ex-wife who was as warm and cuddly as a snake.

His jaw flexed as we stared at each other for the first time in two years, and I opened my mouth to say something, but his eyes moved past my shoulder, where he saw his kids quietly sitting at the island.

“You two are in so much trouble,” he started, striding into the house without a word to me.

My stomach sank into my feet a little, wishing I’d gotten Ruby out of the house before Barrett arrived. Last thing she needed was a visual reminder of the better, smarter, more responsible King brother.

Maggie ran to give her dad a hug, looking up at him with a pleading expression. “Please don’t make us leave right away. We just wanted to see Uncle Griffin for a little while.”

Bryce joined in, wringing his hands while his sister attempted the physical side of the emotional-manipulation attempt. “We’ve had so much fun today. We went swimming, and he played pool volleyball with us, and we played Chicken and Marco Polo and ordered pizza, and he said we can stay over tonight if you’d let us.”

Barrett’s eyes flashed to mine, anger flaring so hot that I almost couldn’t breathe for a second.

“That’s not his to promise,” he said. “And you didn’t even ask to see him,” Barrett continued, voice raising slightly. “You don’t forge paperwork and board a flight by yourself because you didn’t ask me a question.”

Maggie pulled back, her eyes full of their own fire. “Yes, I did. I asked after he sent me my birthday present.” Barrett swiped a hand overhis mouth, staring down at his daughter with tired-looking eyes. “You told me no.”

Barrett dropped his hand. “I told you I couldn’t talk about it right then. I was in the middle of—”

“The middle of work,” Bryce chimed in. “You always are.”

My brother let out a slow, steady breath. I’d heard the pundits say that his ability to keep his cool was one of his superpowers. That with a single disappointed look, he could have his players willing to play through broken bones if necessary. There was no need to yell or scream or indulge in any of the sideline antics so many coaches made famous.

In college, someone had nicknamed him Ice Man, and it stuck. Through the pros, into his coaching career. In the end, I think it was why Rachel picked him. His drive, coupled with the steely, immovable demeanor, made him look like the solid bet. Someone who’d never stray. Never leave. Never fuck up.

Apparently, that trait did not extend to being the perfect parent. The thought of it didn’t bring me any joy, knowing there was one part of his life where he wasn’t a superhero. God, maybe I was experiencing a quarter-life crisis of sudden emotional growth. Maybe my capability for understanding my brother was growing in direct correlation to being around Ruby.

Like I was becoming a better person by osmosis or something. She was literally breathing her goodness into me. She’d gloat when I told her, and I couldn’t even blame her a single bit.

In the pulsing silence while my brother assessed his kids’ faces, clearly trying to figure out how to extract them without causing damage, I wondered what was taking Ruby so long. She’d keep me from doing something stupid.

“I really don’t mind them staying,” I heard myself say. “I’m happy to have them here. Even if it’s just ... until you leave tomorrow.”

The kids perked up immediately, a chorus of “please, please, please” echoing through the kitchen. Barrett’s head snapped in my direction, his expression so fucking cold that I had to grit my teeth.

Something stupid like that, apparently.

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