Page 40 of Kissing Chaos
“This weekend marks sixteen years since my dad was killed. For the first time since that night, I don’t want to go home and drink myself into oblivion. I’m finding myself again because of your sister.” I wait until he makes eye contact to continue. He needs to hear me. “That girl is the brightest star on my darkest night. Every impulse, every blanket in every corner of my apartment, every three a.m. search for a random pillow orbook or sweatshirt. Jett is worth all of it and more, and I’ll be damned if I let you or anyone else dim her spark.”
“You love her.” He says it matter-of-factly, as if there’s no question. It’s such a contrast from how this conversation began that I’m thrown off-kilter but still nod once. “And I was wrong. You know her better in a few weeks than any other guy she’s dated did in months.”
“She’s special.”
“I know it’s just words, but I’m sorry about your dad. Loss never really gets easier.” He holds out his hand in offering. As I grasp his, he says, “I’ll talk to Jett. She’s been avoiding me for a while now. I’m guessing whatever dream you’re talking about has something to do with it.”
“Don’t shut her down. Let her share with you and then discuss it like two adults. She deserves at least that much.”
Reece tips his hat. “I may be questioning some things right now, but I doubt my sister is making things easy on you after her asshole ex. She’s really good at pushing people away. Don’t let her.”
“She won’t get rid of me that easily.” I’m done hiding from my feelings.
16
Jett
“Come on, Jett. Talk to me,” Reece begs from next to me on the sidewalk.
I did my best to avoid him these last few weeks. Things have been tense between us since the we had lunch together with McKenna. I do my best not to let the truth hurt so much, but then things randomly crash back down around me. Up until he said those things, I would have called McKenna and had her rescue me, but now Reece’s words keep coming back to haunt me and I just stew in my misery instead.
Once I realize my brother isn’t going to let this go, I stop on a sigh and turn to look up at him, eyes identical to mine silently begging for forgiveness. “What do you want me to say, Reece?”
His shoulders droop. “You haven’t been over for dinner in weeks. You keep sending my calls to voicemail. You never called Mom the other week, either. I know you are owed an enormous apology and that I haven’t been the brother you need, but please don’t stay mad at me.”
“I’m not mad,” I mutter, looking past him. When I notice my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my shirt, I fist my hands and cross my arms over my chest. My brother and I rarely argue. Even growing up, Reece was always my rock. Especially through our teen years when my daydreaming and fidgeting were at their worst. The number of times I’d get in trouble in class for zoning out and missing whatever was going on, getting called out for not paying attention.
Reece would go with me to our parents, providing a buffer between me and our mom. And since we only have eleven months separating us in age, we shared classes. Those were a godsend. But this feeling of betrayal—deserved or not—hurts, and I don’t really know how to address it.
Reece groans at my response, looking up at the sky then back to me. “Then whatever you want to call it. Irritated. Upset. Displeased.”
I tilt my head at his broken tone, trying my best to get a read on him. “Did you mean to hurt my feelings that day you and McKenna and I met at Riley’s, or were you just trying to get under her skin?”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, looking genuinely confused.
“When I told you what happened with Joey.”
“You’re gonna need to be more specific, sis.”
“You accused McKenna of being my keeper.”
Confusion flits across his face. “She kind of is. She has been for years.”
I shake my head, my heart pounding, palms tingling with sweat as I steal myself to verbalize my insecurities. I never used to get this worked up about talking to Reece, but I guess things change. “She was my rock. She kept me from losing whatever sanity I still have.”
“Was?” he asks.
I refuse to meet his eyes this time.
He steps closer, placing his hands firmly on my shoulders. “I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on, sis.”
I take a deep breath, still not looking up, and relent. “I’ve only talked to her a few times since then. She’s been busy, and maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time for me to figure out how to deal with my own shit on my own. I’m twenty-seven. I should be able to handle rough days alone by now.”
“Jett…” He hesitates, leaning down so that he can search my eyes for I don’t know what. “What have you been doing instead, then?”
“Like I said. Dealing,” I say with a shrug. Nothing else to say, really. “Reading. Trying to focus on a handful of minorediting projects. Texting Noah. I watch hockey with him on Sundays, now,” I add on a whisper, blushing.
The hurt in Reece’s eyes stabs me straight in the gut, even though a small smile tugs at his lips, likely at my mention of Noah.
