his injury. Still, I felt responsible. I’d always been responsible for my younger brother. Three years younger than me, he was only a kid himself when he got his girlfriend pregnant, and Rory came along. We’d lost our mother, and he took comfort in his girl. Idiot. We’d talked a hundred times about keeping himself wrapped up to prevent such a thing. I had played the role of father most of his life. When our mother died, I took her place as well.
“Don’t be looking at my junk. It might shrivel up and fall off.”
“Gonna fall off from disuse,” he mocks.
“Yeah, well, ain’t that the truth.” Whose fault is that? I almost state the sarcastic question, but I bite my tongue. Nolan surely isn’t at fault either that I got caught at the wrong place, at the wrong time, and accused of a crime I didn’t commit. Falsely accused. I had my suspicions about who did start the fire, but it never made sense. It didn’t seem logistically possible, so the accusation never crossed my lips. I’ll take it to the grave. Either way, I took the punishment, and I did what I did to protect someone not entirely innocent but still not guilty enough to go to jail.
It was an accident. I had to believe it was an accident.
“How was work today?” Nolan asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“It’s fine.” It’s going to get worse, though, as I kissed my boss. Leaning forward, I place my elbows on my knees and swipe both hands over my face.
“You okay?” Nolan’s concern feels like a role reversal. I’m the one constantly worrying about him, not the other way around.
“Yeah, just a lot on my mind.”
“You think too much.” He used to tell me I worked too hard. All work and no play. I was always serious, he joked, but someone had to be the adult, and it wasn’t him. I’d always taken care of him, and that was an issue. As I look at him, shame washes over me because I want my freedom. I want to rid myself of the memories and the past, and that means separating from my brother, who is another reminder of what happened. When I met my ex-wife, a small part of me was relieved. She was my excuse to put some much-needed space between my brother and me. He was a man then and could stand on his own. Now, he can’t stand without support.
“I’m not thinking,” I mutter in response. I certainly wasn’t thinking tonight when I followed Rita to apologize and then kissed the crap out of her. Her mouth against mine lingers on my lips, and I chew the lower one as if I can still taste her. Her taste was unfamiliar, but like a hit of good coffee, I want another sip. “And speaking of work, I need a recyclable lunch bag. Something environmentally safe.”
“Yes, dear,” Nolan teases, and I scowl at him.
“Your peanut butter and jam sandwiches could use some improvement, too,” I mock, although I’m grateful he wants to do something for me. He feels just as bad as I do that I went to prison, serving time for a crime I didn’t commit. Add in his injury, and I know he wishes I’d been here with him. At seventeen, his son had to grow up too quickly, just like Nolan did.
“What does it look like I’m working with, a gourmet kitchen?” he jests. Our kitchen had some improvements after Nolan’s accident. Compact and tight, shorter cabinets and lowered counters were installed, allowing better access for Nolan’s reach. In general, the house I’m building for Building Buddies is going to be nicer than this place, though.
“Yeah, yeah.” I laugh. “I’ll get right on it, along with the fifty other things this place needs.”
Nolan sobers a bit. “We don’t need anything, Jake.” His dropped tone has me looking up at him.
“I didn’t mean—”
Holding up a hand, he stops me. “I didn’t mean anything either. I’m only teasing. I can work with that kitchen. I’m just grateful you’re home.”
Twisting my lips side to side, I glance down at the hardwood floor and nod to agree.
“Yeah,” I say. “Me too.” I am glad to be home. I’m happy to be outside the four walls that confined me for seven years. I’m happy to be free to kiss a woman, even if I did take the liberty with someone I shouldn’t. But Rita kissed me back, accepting what I gave to her. She responded