Page 11 of Blame it on the Kiss
“I can’t…” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to wait. I’ve been practicing non-stop, hitting the gym, and I’ve dominated the past three tournaments I entered. In the next month I’m getting an agent and announcing I’ve gone pro.”
He’d been a week away from that announcement when he had his accident. Fear clambered up her spine. One wrong landing and he’d never walk again. But her brother had what she never did. Tenacity. And he refused to let one mistake beat him.
She wished she could say the same.
“I’m only looking out for you.” She started walking again. With their parents a million miles away, she was responsible for her brother.
“Don’t need it.” He put an arm around her shoulders and smiled that lopsided grin that made girls fall all over him.
“We’ll see.” Agents were cutthroat, putting their professional goals above their client’s well being. Or so she remembered from two years ago when a few came sniffing around her brother.
“Let’s change the subject since I know how much you like to talk about yourself.”
“Pfft.” Coop was one of only a few people who could get her to share stuff. He didn’t judge, didn’t call her flighty, and could keep a secret. Unlike the rest of her small hometown.
“You got all sorts of wedding crap this weekend?”
“It’s not crap.” She whacked him in the stomach.
“Ow.” He fake rubbed his rock hard abs like they hurt. “I can help with the store… after all the wedding crap.”
Honor rolled her eyes. “That would be great. Thanks.” The store was number four on Payton’s list. As an event specialist for the mayor’s office, Honor kept busy, but notthatbusy, and she and Pay had tossed around the idea of opening an antique store. They’d both been history majors in college and Honor loved old things—furnishings, pottery, glass, jewelry, movie memorabilia, anything from life in the past. She’d started collecting things as a kid, her eye drawn to items that looked homeless, like they didn’t belong. So after Payton passed away and Honor saw “open an antique store” on her list, she’d asked her father for a loan to get started.
Occasionally things worked in her favor, and she’d grabbed the small space on Main Street that became available two months ago. In her free time she’d been working to get it ready.
“I’m crazy good with a paint brush,” Cooper said, breaking into her thoughts.
“You’re crazy good at everything.” She put her arm around his waist and her head on his shoulder as they continued down the sidewalk.
“True. And since I’m helping you, think you could sign my name to your wedding gift for Sophie and Zane?”
“Already did.”
“Sweet.”
In Cooper language sweet equated to thank you. It also described her brother. He hated hearing it, and much preferred “badass,” but they had each other’s backs and in Honor’s world that meant sweet.
They walked in silence the rest of the way to their cozy two-bedroom house across the street from the beach. Honor opened the front door and the second they went inside, peace fell over her. Nothing could touch her inside these four walls.
“’Night, H.” Cooper headed down the hall to his bedroom.
“’Night.” She put her gift bag on the upholstered ottoman that served as a coffee table and plopped down on the chenille sofa, her butt so comfy in the soft fabric it wanted to divorce her and marry it. While her brother could walk into his room, climb into bed, and be asleep in under a minute, she needed a few minutes to decompress.
“I’m sorry, Pay,” she whispered, thinking back to when she’d kissed Bryce. “Truly sorry.”
She’d apologized to Payton more than once over the course of their friendship. They’d fought like sisters, forgave like sisters. But this apology didn’t take away the stab of regret. How could it when the impossible attraction she felt for Bryce only intensified every time she saw him.
Suck it up, girl. The next three days were about Sophie and Zane, and she could—would—be the perfect bridesmaid. When the wedding ended, so did her time with the groomsman.
If Bryce became her brother’s agent, though… That added another layer of familiarity she didn’t like. Not one bit. She didn’t want her brother to love him. Didn’t want her parents to either. And they would. They all would. Bryce had that something that put everyone at ease and in like with him at hello.
She leaned forward and picked up the Roseville pottery book Payton had given her for her birthday. Thumbing to page one hundred, she carefully slipped out the piece of paper that held Payton’s list.
Until tonight, no one else knew about the list. She’d kept it to herself so that when she failed to fulfill all five items, she’d be the only one to know.
When, not if. And it killed her.
She wasn’t sure why she’d told Bryce except that it had felt nice to open up to someone who was close to Payton, too. The someone who had made what should have been easy into a tangled mess. Sharing responsibility for the screw-up made her feel a tiny bit better about it. But in the next few weeks—beforesheturned twenty-five—she’d figure out a way to follow through on her promise.
