Page 58 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
There’s a ton I’m not telling her. I tested the waters last night, gave Kate an opening, and she shut me down. I’m pretty sure she was feeling something, so I’m not ready to give up completely, but I’m also not ready to share what’s happening with my family. “There’s nothing to tell. I promise.”
She breathes out a sigh. “Oh, honey. I don’t believe you in the slightest.”
I lean forward and kiss her on the cheek. “Thanks for caring. And thanks for being here. It means a lot.”
By the time my family leaves, Kate and I are the last two people left in the room. I stop right in front of her. “Hey.” I slip my hands into the pockets of my khakis. “Thanks for coming.”
She nods and smiles. “I wouldn’t have missed it. You did great, Brody. Truly an A-plus performance.”
I grin. “I’ll take it.”
She loops her arm through mine, and we walk out to the parking lot and head toward her mom’s Subaru. “You look nice all dressed up,” she says. “I like your tie. And it’s nice to see your glasses again.”
“I thought they would make me look more like a teacher.” I take them off and slip them into the pocket of my dress shirt. “Did it work?”
She smiles. “Definitely. But for real, you were so good. So professional. I love that you didn’t back down when it came to calling Dillon out for his bad behavior.”
She’s still holding on to my arm when we reach her car, and I let her tug me over so we’re both leaning against the driver-side door.
“I only hope it’ll make a difference.”
“What will you do if it doesn’t?” she asks. “I mean, I think it will. I don’t think you’re going to get shut down. But...what if you do?”
“I’ll keep teaching, I guess. Griffin asked me a few months ago if I wanted to come on as a full-time instructor at Triple Mountain. It’s tempting, but...I don’t know. I feel like what I do at the school really matters. It would be hard to give that up.”
She leans her head against my shoulder, her hands tucked around my bicep. “You always shine brightest when you have the chance to really connect with people. It’s easy to imagine you building that connection in a classroom.”
Kate is close to me, as close as she was last night, but right now, the closeness only feels companionable. There’s no denying the chemistry that’s been crackling between us since she came back to town, but I also appreciate that she knows me well enough to support me like this, too. I want physical chemistry. But I also want friendship.
My heart stretches and aches.I want her.
“How did today go? Did you make any progress on the house?”
“A little,” she answers through a yawn. “I spent half the morning looking through pictures of my parents before I was born.”
“You haven’t seen them before?”
“Never. I honestly thought Mom threw away everything that reminded her of Dad. I mean, I’ve seen the photos that have me in them. She saved those. But these, the two of them are so young. And they look really happy, which...I don’t know. It wasn’t what I expected.”
“They did get married, Kate. They had to have loved each other at some point.”
“Logically, I know that. It’s just hard for me to imagine. I don’t have a single memory of them married, Brody. They’ve always been divorced. And Mom hasalwaysbeen angry about it.”
It’s not a wonder Kate has a hard time imagining her own happily ever after. “Marriage doesn’t always end like that,” I say.
She nods without picking her head up, and I feel it shifting against my shoulder. “I know.” She gives my arm a squeeze. “It won’t end that way for you.”
“What makes you so sure?”
She lifts her head and looks at me. “Because you believe it won’t.” She smiles. “It was your mom who told me that, and I think she’s right. Believing that love can last has to be half the battle.”
That sounds like something my mother would say. And she’s right. I do believe marriage can last. When I think about my future, it is always in the long term, from the here and now all the way to grand kids and great-grandkids, all with the woman I love beside me.
I’m not naïve enough to believe italwaysworks out that way. Life happens. People die. We screw up. People betray us, lie to us, break our hearts. But call me an optimist, I’d rather believe that the good can happen. That the right love can endure any hardship.
“What about you?” I ask. “Do you believe love can last?”
She stares at her hands for a long moment. “I’m trying to,” she finally says. Then, with a little more conviction, “I want to.” She lifts her shoulder in a playful shrug and smiles. “If only all this baggage I’m lugging around wasn’t so heavy.”
