Straight Up Love (The Boys of Jackson Harbor Book 2)
Straight Up Love: Chapter 11

“Why’s everyone so worried about my virtue all of a sudden?” I ask Jake. “You both need to calm down. I’m a grown woman.” Seriously, I’m not sure what Colton’s problem is this morning. He’s always been protective of me, but he knows Jake’s just a friend.

That said, I am suddenly all too aware of my thin tank top and Jake’s proximity. Funny how just last night I was thinking about how I like to maintain a bigger personal bubble than most people, but the need for that extra space never seems to apply to Jake.

Then again, after the way my insides seemed to shimmy and melt when he touched my lip, maybe it should. Shit. What was that?

Nothing. It was nothing but the response of a body that hasn’t had much physical contact lately.

“Get out,” I tell Jake. “I need to get dressed and brush my teeth.”

“Need any help?”

I arch a brow. “Help brushing my teeth?”

“Help getting dressed. Or . . . undressed.” He gives me that devilish grin that makes most girls drop their panties. It could totally work on me too if I hadn’t worked so hard to build up an immunity.

I grab a pillow and launch it at his chest. “Get out. Colton’s out there, and if he heard you saying that he’d punch you.”

His gaze drops from my eyes to my chest. “Might be worth it.”

“Out.”

Chuckling, he tosses the pillow back on the mattress and leaves my room.

I crawl out of bed and take a big gulp of my coffee, grateful for Jake’s thoughtfulness. Then I go into the bathroom and shudder at my appearance. I took a long, hot shower when I got home last night and then slept on my wet hair. This morning, it’s a mess of tangled waves. And even though I washed my face in the shower, I didn’t bother getting all my eye makeup off, and now the remnants are smudged around my eyes.

Sighing, I grab a makeup remover cloth and take care of it. Then I brush my teeth, pull my hair into a sloppy bun on top of my head, and dress in a pair of black leggings and my favorite Hamilton hoodie.

When I go back out to the kitchen, Colton and Jake are already there, shooting the shit, and someone’s made a fresh pot of coffee.

“It was awesome,” Colton says. “I was flying through the air and then the bottom of my bike, just”—he makes a cutting motion with his hand—“gone. It drops, but I’m still up there, handlebars in my hands and nothing underneath me. My team was freaking out on the sidelines, and I was flying.”

They must be talking about the last motocross race when Colton nearly killed himself. Not the first or the last time, just the most recent. Thank God I wasn’t there to see that. I don’t think I could have handled it.

“You’re lucky you didn’t break a leg,” Jake says.

I nod in agreement. “Or your neck.” Colton needs more voices of reason in his life. Levi just eggs him on.

Colton shrugs. “I’m fine. The crowd loves that shit anyway. It was great.” He turns to me. “You look better.”

“Thanks, I guess?”

He smirks. “Jill left me a message about dinner at Dad’s place in a couple weeks. Molly’s coming back to town?”

I nod. I kind of forgot, and I’m not thrilled about the reminder. I wonder what Molly would do if her boss tried to put his hand up her skirt. I can’t imagine her confronted with such a situation, but if she were, I have the feeling she’d handle it with grace. And she probably wouldn’t do something like Straight Up Casual to begin with. “Apparently she has some sort of big news.”

“Maybe she’s moving home,” Colton says.

Jake stops his coffee halfway to his mouth. “You think?”

I frown at him before looking back at my brother. “I can’t imagine she’d want to. She’s been here a grand total of five days in as many years.”

“That’s true.” Colton studies the contents of his mug.

I stifle a growl. Just the mention of Mother Teresa and all the men in the room go somber. I’m four years older than her, but I have younger friends who told me the guys in high school all wanted a piece of her. I always knew Colton had a thing for our stepsister, but I hate to imagine Jake just as lust-stricken. “Are you going to make it to dinner?” I ask my brother.

“Can’t,” he says. “Have a thing.”

“A thing? Sounds super important. I’m sure Dad will understand.”

Colton shrugs. “Since when do I give a fuck what Dad thinks?”

That’s true. Colton can’t stand our father, and when Mom moved to Florida, he went with her rather than living with Dad. For me, it made sense to stay. I was a junior in high school, so I only had a year and a half till I finished school, and I figured I’d rather be the odd man out with Dad’s new family than leave all my friends. In retrospect, I think Colton made the wiser decision, but at the time I wondered if part of his motivation was his fear that moving in with Molly made him more like a brother to her, rather than a potential . . . What? What did Colton want with Molly? To screw around, or more? Before Ellie, Colton wasn’t serious about anyone, but I always wondered if Molly was the exception. Maybe even the reason.

I turn to Jake and catch him staring at the stack of ungraded compositions on my kitchen table. He looks a little stricken as he grabs his keys from his pocket. “I need to head to Brayden’s for brunch. Do you want to come with?”

I put my hand on my stomach, already full of Star’s incredibly rich donut. “I think I’m all set.”

He shakes his head and smiles. “You don’t have to eat. You can just hang out with us. I know how much you like Shay’s coffee.”

“That’s tempting, but I have a bunch I need to get done around here.” Papers to grade, laundry to fold, weeds to pull. Since I work two jobs and volunteer as the director of Jackson Harbor Children’s Theater, I have to be stingy with my time off.

“I’ll see you later, then,” Jake says, heading to the door.

“Give Mom my best,” I say.

“Will do,” he calls back.

I wander across the kitchen to see whose paper Jake was looking at, and my heart does a stutter step. Not composition papers. Potential sperm donors.

Colton looks over my shoulder and chuckles behind me. “Jake doesn’t seem to be handling the news of your potential pregnancy very well.”

Any awkwardness from Jake was less about a potential pregnancy and more about me asking for his sperm, but since Colton would flip out if I shared my embarrassing drunken request, I think I’ll keep that to myself. Maybe I shouldn’t be allowed to drink.

I look at my brother, narrowing my eyes. How’d he replace out, anyway? “Ellie told you about that?”

He nods and studies my face. “Would’ve rather heard it from my sister.”

“Well, it’s only a possibility. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” I shrug. “How’s your season shaping up?” I ask, intentionally changing the subject.

Sometimes I think my brother chose his career in motocross just to spite our father. Then again, everything about racing appeals to Colton. The travel. The constant thrills. The life-threatening levels of danger. The women . . .

“Season’s good,” he says. “There are some new guys trying to make a splash, but we’ll see if they last.”

“And how are you and Ellie?”

“We’re fantastic.”

I grin. “That’s why she keeps hearing wedding bells.”

Donut halfway to his mouth, he freezes. “Did she tell you that?”

Folding my arms, I frown. “Not in so many words, but she talks about you two getting married like it’s inevitable. I think we all assume it is.”

He cuts his gaze from mine and studies the big calendar I have taped to my fridge. The silence grows heavy between us. I sip my coffee, waiting him out.

“I love her. I’d just hate to ruin it by rushing into something.”

“You’ve been together for more than two years. Is that really rushing?”

“If we’re meant to be together, what’s the harm in taking our time? Where exactly is it that we’re trying to get to?”

I sigh. I know Ellie doesn’t feel the same way, but the last thing I want to do is guilt my brother into a proposal he’s not ready for. “Just make sure you’re telling her how you feel.”

When he turns back to me, there’s more anguish in his eyes than I would have expected. Sometimes I forget my kid brother isn’t a kid anymore, and he has problems of his own. “I’m not like you, Av. I’m not happy with the status quo. I want more.”

I’m not sure he intended to insult me, but it stings. “Who said I’m happy with the status quo?”

He arches a brow and points to the papers on the table. “So you’re going to go through with the sperm-donor plan?”

“It’s complicated. I think so. Maybe in a couple of months, but . . .”

He folds his arms and studies me, and for a split second I see my father in his stern expression. All the McKinley men look so much alike. “Do you remember when we were kids and Mom sold the camper and put the addition on the house?”

I smile, remembering. I was twelve, and Colton was seven. Mom had gotten the camper in the divorce, but Colt and I hated camping, so we never used it. We convinced her she should sell it and use the money to buy something for herself—an elaborate vacation, a new wardrobe—anything, as long as it was for her. She decided to put an addition on the back of the house with the master bedroom and en suite she’d always dreamed of, and we had so much fun helping her with all the design decisions. “I still can’t believe we talked her into that.”

“Do you remember how excited you were to move into her old bedroom?”

Frowning, I shake my head. “You moved into her old bedroom, not me.”

“I did, but only because you decided you didn’t want to. You were so excited about having all that space and the big windows, but the closer it got to moving day, the more anxious you became. None of your worries made any sense, but you refused to move.”

“Oh, yeah.” I vaguely remember that now. Mom had said the old master could be mine because I was the oldest, but I decided Colton should have it. I don’t remember why I made my decision, only that afterward I was jealous of Colton. He had space for three friends to roll out sleeping bags during slumber parties, whereas my friends and I had to spend our sleepovers in the living room.

“You were so scared that you’d miss your old room that you refused to take the bigger bedroom even though you wanted it.”

“It worked out okay.” I punch him on the shoulder. “And I don’t remember you complaining.”

“And then when you got the fellowship to get an MFA in drama in New York City . . .? You worked so hard on that application, and when they offered it, you declined.”

“I’d started dating Harrison. It didn’t make sense to leave. And anyway, I avoided a lot of student loan debt by passing on that program.”

He steps forward and taps the stack of potential sperm donors. “And now you want a baby, but you’ve put the brakes on that too.”

My cheeks heat because I’m still embarrassed about my plans, and it’s weird to have this conversation with my brother. “Is my wild-and-free brother actually trying to talk me into having a baby?” I ask.

“Maybe.” He folds his arms. “When Ellie told me she’d successfully stalled your plans, I was pissed. You need to be reminded to go after life, not to be cautious. Your whole life has been cautious.”

“She just doesn’t want me jumping into anything.”

“I know you, sis. You don’t like change. It scares you to death. So I know it’s a big deal for you to have even gone this far. Don’t stop short of your dreams because you’re afraid of change. Change can be good.”

“This decision isn’t just about me. I have the child to consider, and Ellie’s right. It’ll be so hard to do it on my own.”

“The timing will never be perfect.” He narrows his eyes and shakes his head. “You gotta take risks if you want to be happy.”

“Coming from the boy who spends his whole life taking risks and never feeling content, I’m not sure that’s great advice.” I bite my lip. “No offense, Colt.”

“Nah. I get it. We’re different. Maybe you need to be a little more like me, and I need to be a little more like you. But you’re prepared for this. You have a job—two, really, and three if you count that summer thing you do with the kids. And that’s not even accounting for all the rainy-day savings you’ve worked so hard for and refuse to touch.” He taps my nose affectionately, just like he used to when we were kids. “Everything will work out if you just let it.”

“I never would have guessed you’d be so in favor of me doing this.” I expected him to be more like Ellie—terrified I’d be wasting what was left of my youth. But as shocking as it is, it also feels good. I like having my brother on my side.

“I know you. I know what matters to you. Focus less on making the safest decision and more on making one that’s true to you.”

“Damn.” I prop my hands on my hips. “When did you get so wise?”

He grins. “I gotta jet. Let me know how dinner goes, and tell Molly I said hey.”

“Will do.”

He leaves, and I turn to look at the calendar on my fridge. My hectic schedule is all there—theater rehearsals, drama club meetings, and shifts at Jackson Brews. I love this life. I’m truly, truly grateful for everything that fills it. So grateful that I’ve spent years feeling guilty every time I wanted a little less busy and a little more meaning.

A baby. A family of my own.

Maybe Colton’s right. Maybe I should be a little less afraid of change and a little more willing to grab on to the life I want.