Page 84 of Desire or Defense

My eyes shift to the side to look at Mitch, whose eyes are open now. “Sorry, Noah,” he says in a groggy, just-woke-up voice.

Noah rolls his eyes and runs up the stairs, probably to get ready for school.

“School!” I squeak and lift myself into a sitting position, then jump up from the sofa. Mitch follows suit, looking confused and like he’s barely awake. I rush into the kitchen to see it’s already 7:30 and grab Noah’s lunch box to start packing it.

“What can I do?”

I look up at him and see his messy hair, rumpled clothes, and black eye and can’t help but smile at him. “For starters, why don’t you tell me how you got that black eye?”

He gives me a sheepish smile. “West gave me this.”

I gasp and he puts a hand up, a silent plea for me to not freak out.

“I deserved it, believe me.”

“Hmm. If you say so.” I peek inside the fridge, smiling when I spot the tray of probably one hundred sub sandwiches. I grab two of them and stick them inside Noah’s lunchbox. Thankfully, we still have ten minutes before we need to leave.

“Want me to take Noah to school?” Mitch asks.

I’m about to tell him he doesn’t have to do that when Noah comes down the steps and answers for me, “yes, please. That’s so much cooler than my sister taking me.” He stands next to Mitch, Mitch reaches down and ruffles his hair. Noah shoves him away, making Mitch chuckle.

Noah turns and starts walking toward the front door, toward his spot on the front porch, and Mitch follows him.

When I’ve packed his lunch and thrown on some sweats, I go in search of the boys. The boys… I like the sound of that.

I open the front door slowly and find them both sitting on the steps. It’s a cold February morning, but with the sunshine filtering onto the small stoop, it seems warmer than it is. The sun shines on Mitch, bringing out the flecks of gold throughout Mitch’s hair. I take a moment to watch them. Mitch’s large shoulders fill the impossibly small space, and it does something to my heart. It’s a reminder of the space in our lives that was empty after losing our parents. But this giant man with his fragile heart came in and filled it when we least expected it.

Clearing my throat, I say, “Hey, here’s your lunch.”

They both turn and look over their shoulders at me. They both stand. Noah takes the lunch and thanks me. “See you after school, Andie.” He waves and walks toward Mitch’s Tesla that’s parked nearby.

Mitch takes a step toward me, and slips one of those big hands around my waist, tugging me close until I collide into his chest.

“Good morning, Blondie.” He kisses me again. This time longer.

I hum into the kiss, then pull back slightly. “Careful, I’m going to get used to waking up to your kisses.”

“That’s alright with me.” He closes his eyes and kisses my forehead. “I love you so much it hurts a little.”

“Are you sure that’s not the black eye?”

He huffs a laugh. “Definitely not.”

I sigh happily. “I love you too, Big Man.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m going to be late for school!” Noah yells from the sidewalk next to Mitch’s car.

We snicker and I mouth the word Sorry to my brother. Noah groans when Mitch gives me one more kiss before letting me go and walking toward his car.

I lean against the doorframe, watching as they interact with each other. Noah says something that makes Mitch laugh. They open the car doors and both have smiles on their faces. They look so happy. A sob catches in my throat and I choke it back.

Mitch Anderson, with his tender soul and his commanding presence, was everything we didn’t know we needed.

And now, this feels like a family. A whole, complete unit.

Three things I’m grateful for: My little brother, Mitch Anderson, and family.

Because family looks different for everyone. Sometimes it’s not the family you’re born into, but the one you build. The one you work for. And this is mine.