Page 5 of Make You Mine

My stepbrother is standing in all his glory, in a different outfit than the one he had on at school today. His hair is covered by a backward hat, the dark gray and turquoise jersey he’s wearing I recognize as the team’s he used to play for in college, and the pants are simple gray joggers.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Kayden says, fingers still digging at my arms. “God, I can’t believe you didn’t change your phone number in all these years.” He laughs, but after seeing my face is as serious as an ice stone, his lips purse.

“Are you okay?”

“As if you’d care,” I hiss, trying to ignore the growing heat in my cheeks.

He looks way better than I ever remember, and I’ve had years to memorize his features.

There’s no trace of the rebel college guy he used to be. His gestures are manlier; his whole demeanor is.

He’s just as annoying, though.

“Come on, sis.” He caresses my arms. “I come in peace.”

I pull away from him. “In peace, my ass.”

There is no way I’ll trust his words. Not after everything he put me through.

“Hey!” A man behind us shouts, and we turn.

“Do you mind toning down whatever lovers’ quarrel you’re having and sitting down?” the curly-haired man wearing a hockey jersey says. He’s visibly frowning. “The game’s about to start, and we can’t see shit because of you.”

The woman sitting next to him nudges him.

“What?” He motions with his hands at her. “I paid to watch my game.”

“Sorry, man. We don’t want any trouble.” To my surprise, Kayden’s tone is apologetic, and he handles it maturely. Unlike what I’m used to seeing from him.

The old Kayden would have started a fight.

“Take a seat, and I’ll go get us some refreshments and snacks.” He motions for me to sit down. “Okay? We have a lot to talk about.”

I don’t want to. I want to leave. This was the worst idea ever.

But I’m an adult now, so I’ll handle this like an adult.

If Kayden can do it, so can I.

The crowd cheers as the hockey players enter the rink, and I take a seat again.

Kayden leaves and shows up a couple of minutes later with some sodas and cheesy nachos. He bends down to hand me one drink before taking a seat, and I fix on the black ink making an appearance under his jersey and ending right before the start of his neck. I can’t tell well. But is that a tattoo?

He didn’t have tattoos the last time I saw him.

When did he get it? Does he have more?

And why am I gnawing at my lip, staring at him?

“T-thanks.” I grab my soda and bite the straw instead.

“You’re welcome.”

Kayden takes his own seat and puts the box of nachos between his legs.

Great. Now I’ll never be able to eat them, and I’m starving.

“See? It’s not that hard to be civil with one another.”