Page 8 of One Week With You
Unfortunately, my parents didn’t help. My youngest brother, Jacob, had once been out of work for three weeks, and my dad had worried so much about what it meant for his pension credits he’d started having chest pains. I dreaded to think what he’d say now.
“Did you forget your key again?”
Rafe’s voice saved me from that worrying thought, and I spun in time to catch his graceful climb from his Audi convertible, along with my eldest brother, Leo. The pair were similar in height, both over six feet, but where Leo was a closely shaven dark blond, Rafe’s was thick, chestnut brown, artfully dishevelled and sweeping above his grey eyes.
My heart stuttered at the sight of him.
All broad shoulders and stubbled jawline, his cheekbones looked chiselled from stone. He had a tiny bump from a broken nose he was self-conscious about – he’d mentioned scheduling plastic surgery more than once – but I thought it gave him character. I often imagined tracing it with my fingertips while he told me the story of how it happened. I’d never admit it because we weren’t like that. We didn’t do things like that.
One drunken kiss five years ago notwithstanding.
Five years…
Time had made things easier in some ways. The frustration that he’d never see me as anything more than his best friend’s sister gradually faded to a sad sort of resignation, but every now and then I was punched with the full weight of everything unsaid.
I like you. A lot.
Sometimes I think you like me too.
Sometimes.
This time of year was the loudest of them all.
But then I remembered all the things he did say after he’d kissed me like he’d been drowning and I was the only air.
I made a mistake.
We can’t do this again.
I’m sorry.
I pressed a hand to my heart. The ache of those words like a bruise that never healed.
“Tee!” Leo shouted when he noticed me paused at the gate, loud enough to shake me from staring longingly at his best friend with his stupid broad chest and arm muscles perfectly filling out a black cashmere sweater. With his dark jeans and leather jacket, Rafe looked especially scrumptious today. I stifled a groan.
“How the hell did you get here first?”
“I’m as shocked as you are.”
My brother grabbed my face and kissed my forehead with a loud and exaggerated “Mwah!”
“Ugh, stop!” I said with a laugh, shoving him away as he walked down the garden path to let himself into the house.Nice to see you too, bro.
In the silence Rafe stepped by my side, his presence as warm and powerful as if I’d looked right at him. But that was the thing about Rafe Scott, he could command a room without so much as a word.
“Hi, my little worker bee,” he said with a knowing grin.
Worker bee?
The way his smile deepened only confused me more. “Uh, hi?”
“What are you doing out in the cold?” he asked, the accusing demand alleviated by the soft kiss he pressed to my cheek.
“Oh.” I blinked a few times against the heat of Rafe all up in my personal space and had to hold back another lusty moan. I wanted to fix my nose right up to his neck, inhale deeply, and sail away on his delicious scent. Instead, I nuzzled into the depths of my woollen scarf. “Just admiring the decorations. Mum’s gone for coloured lights this year. I think I’m in shock.”
“Huh. What happened to her no-mixing-coloured-lights-with-white-lights rule?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Never thought I’d see the day.”
