Kickin' It (Red Card) - Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,11

I imagined that on any given day they could change color depending on her mood. Her strong jawline made her look like a tomboy, but part of me wondered if it was because of the way she wore her hair. Tight ponytails and not a stitch of makeup. Like attracting someone of the opposite sex was the furthest thing from her mind.

She jerked away from me as though I was the offending party.

When she’d done nothing but insult me since she arrived at my house.

“Your hairbrush is scary close to your toothbrush, just thought you should . . . know.” Fuck me, did I really just warn her about hair? What the hell was wrong with me?

I mentally slapped myself while she narrowed her eyes at me then back at the closed door. “You think you’re going to be able to sleep tonight knowing how close together they are, or should you watch me move them farther apart? I don’t want to cause any more gray hair.” Her eyes moved to the side of my head like she was fixated on at least a million gray hairs shining in all their glory telling her that I was thirty going on thirty-one with no girlfriend and an empty future filled with lonely nights and a room full of rescue kittens.

“I don’t have gray hair,” I snapped.

Her eyes fell to the side of my head, and her eyebrows rose. “If you say so.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Parker let out a sigh that was cuter than it should have been. It also made her look less harsh, like she had a side that was all soft curves and laughter. “It means everyone gets old, you should embrace the gray.”

“But—”

“I need to use the bathroom.” She sidestepped me and put her hand on the doorknob. “But thanks for the warning. I’ll be sure to manage my bathroom tools more effectively, especially since I know they’ll be inspected every night before bed.” With a sarcastic wink, she was inside and the door was shut in my face.

I gasped.

Raised my hand to knock again then turned on my heel. “What the hell?”

“You look lost.” Willow laughed as she made her way down the hall in short shorts and a crop top that looked like it belonged to a toddler. Why was she back in the main house? I gave her space so I could still hold onto some of my manhood and dignity in my own home! So far it wasn’t working, was it?

“Let me guess, these are your pajamas now?” I pointed at her and shook my head. “Thought we talked about this.”

She sighed and hung her head then put her hands on my shoulders. “Matt, I appreciate the concern, but I’m a grown adult. Nobody is going to see me in these but me, m’kay? Plus, you really aren’t my dad even though we both know you’ve been more of a dad than a brother.”

My throat closed up as it always did when we talked about Dad. The usual anger boiled to the surface. I slammed it down and pulled her in for a hug. “I’m your older brother. It’s my job to worry.” Our parents had never truly been involved in our lives and had died when I was in high school and Willow was in junior high. They used money and gifts instead of hugs and words of affirmation. We were like little trophy kids you tell your friends about but don’t manage to take care of. Willow and I only had each other. Sink or swim, we did it together. Always.

“Hah.” She pinched my side and pulled back. “And as your younger sister and only sister, it’s my job to worry about you too. You’re thirty.”

“Why does everyone keep reminding me of my age?” I wondered out loud, suddenly irritated with myself because it made me think of other things I didn’t have yet. Success was easy. But I had nobody to share it with. It never bothered me before. I never thought twice about it.

Maybe it was because Slade had settled down, fallen in love with his other half, and a part of me wanted that sort of passion.

Or maybe I was just feeling sorry for myself because I had two college graduates putting their toothbrushes all over the place!

Yeah, I was going to go with that.

“Because,” she said in a sweet voice as she gripped my hands and squeezed, “you should be settling down and getting