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She blinks up at me, and my stomach warms. I take a step back.
“I can’t believe my brother rode a horse yesterday.” Her lips curl with a smile. “You’re helping him so much, opening his world.”
“You’re giving him books.” I nod at the volume she’s holding. “They also open his world.”
“It’s true.” Her eyes flash mischievously. “Books are dangerous. They make you think. They give you the idea there’s something better out there.”
“Or worse.”
“I thought you stopped readingThe Sun Also Rises!” It’s a teasing fuss, and I think of something less depressing.
“It was a dark and stormy night?”
“Better.” She returns the smaller book to the shelf. “Edward lovedA Wrinkle in Time.”
“Dylan did, too.” I walk to the bookshelf, surveying the spines.
“She told me you used to read to her when she was little.” Rachel follows me. “I think if I found my little boy reading to my little girl, I’d melt on the spot.”
“Readers are leaders,” I mimic Edward’s tone, and she exhales a laugh.
Reaching up, she slides her finger along the spine of an Emily Dickinson novel. “I used to dream of having a boyfriend like Mr. Darcy.”
“Instead, you had boyfriends like…” The words jump out unbidden.
Why am I asking her about past boyfriends?More importantly, why do I feel like I’m hanging off the edge of a cliff waiting for her answer?
“None.” She sighs as she says it, and her chin drops to her chest. “I’ve never had a serious boyfriend.”
I don’t know how to name the satisfied feeling that flashes in my chest. It’s primal, possessive. It’s new.
“What’s wrong with the guys in Birmingham?” I mean to say it as a joke, but I’m not joking.
She only shrugs, chewing her lip. “They don’t like weird little brothers hanging around all the time.”
I’ve got to get a grip on this. Rachel’s love life is not my business. Clearing my throat, I take a step down the passage, away from the pull of her gravity.
“Well, I wouldn’t worry. You’ve got plenty of time.” The words are bitter on my tongue.
I hate them. I don’t want her out there looking for someone. I want to put my hands on her and claim her. I want to make it clear she’s mine.
Mine.
What?
“Gran always said that, but I’m almost thirty.” She huffs a laugh. “I thought I would’ve at least kissed someone by now.”
Fuck. Me.
“You’ve never been kissed?” I move towards her.
Her eyes squeeze shut, and she puts both hands over her face. “I know. It’s so humiliating. You must think I’m a total loser.”
“I don’t. I just…” Shaking my head, I look at her. “How is that possible?”
“I mean…” Shepfftsair through her lips. “It’s possible. Just look at me.”
What does she mean? Is she trying to say she’s a dork? She has no game?
