Page 48 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
He grins. “Just like old times.” He glances at his watch. “I really do have to go now though. I’ve got a class at two.”
I nod and follow behind him as he moves to the front door. He pauses on the porch and slips on his sunglasses. He looks back at me and smiles. His truck is behind him, a bright red kayak lashed to the back, and his smile is wide and warm. “Tomorrow?”
“I don’t deserve you,” I say with a little head shake. I always felt that way growing up. Brody was always the one taking care of me. Talking me down after fights with my mom. Helping me study my way through difficult classes.
And here we are again. I blustered my way back into town and picked up right where we left off. Needing him. Making demands of him.
He says I inspired him to do something scary, something brave. But I don’t feel very brave right now. I feel like walking out the front door and catching the next flight to New Zealand.
I bet there’s something I could write about in New Zealand. The Maori culture is beautiful, and the food—I could absolutely write about the food.
But Brody isn’t in New Zealand.
The thought gives me pause.
For years I’ve lived without him. Traveled without him. Ten years we’ve been living separate lives.
Why does it matter now?
I don’t know the answer. I only know that it does.
Chapter Thirteen
Brody
It has been avery long time since I’ve been nervous about teaching anyone how to kayak. I’ve worked with beginners. With pros who are only looking to improve their technique. With teenagers who think they’re too good to listen and kids who ask questions faster than I can answer them. Whenever he can swing it, Griffin gives me the clients he suspects are going to be more difficult because he says I keep my cool better than any of the other instructors.
All that experience, that evidence, means I shouldn’t be nervous. I should be chill. Cool as a cucumber. Easy, breezy. I’ve got this. If I can talk down a ten-year-old who is terrified of getting water up his nose and teach him how to successfully wet exit out of a rolled kayak, I can handle today.
I can handle—
Kate climbs out of her mom’s Subaru wearing a black bikini top and a pair of gym shorts slung low on her hips. A gauzy white button-down hangs loose on her shoulders, unbuttoned, making it easy for me to notice every inch of her curves. She is toned and tan and I...cannot handle today.
Griffin steps up beside me holding the waiver Kate will need to sign before I can take her out on the water. He isn’t making me charge her, but he’s smart not to turn his back on this part.
“How’s the flow?” I ask, my eyes still on Kate.
“River’s at ten inches,” he answers. “2000 CFS, medium flow—”
I can tell the moment Griffin’s eyes have shifted to Kate. His words stall in his throat, and he slams the waiver into my chest. “Whoa,” he says under his breath as Kate nears.
My thoughts exactly.
“You’ll introduce me, right?”
My jaw clenches, and my hand curls into a fist before I realize what’s happening and snap myself out of it. I intentionally shake out my shoulders. I do not have the right to react like some jealous animal.Me Tarzan. Kate my woman. You jump off cliff.Maybe I ought to start pounding my chest. Throw in a grunt or two for good measure.
“Ohhh,” Griffin says. “Got it. When you said she was your best friend, what you really meant was she’s your best friend...who you’re in love with.”
“I’m not,” I say almost reflexively. How many times have I given the same answer? Claiming I’mnotin love with Kate is second nature at this point.
“Right. That’s exactly why you tensed up like you were ready to punch me for expressing interest.”
“I’m not,” I say again. “I’ll introduce you.” I swallow. “You can—”
Griffin holds up his hands, stopping me. “I really can’t, man. I respect you too much. Whatever is happening right now, you don’t need me getting in the middle of it.”
Kate finally makes her way into the shop, a bag slung over her shoulder.
