Reckless (Chestnut Springs, #4)

I can’t help but snort. “How very on brand for us.”

Summer’s eyes go wide, and I wish I could take back the joke. “It was a joke,” I blurt, internally berating myself because I came here to work more at mending my friendship with her and instead, I inadvertently insulted her. “I swear it was a joke. God. Fuck.” I scrub a hand over my face. “I’m sorry. I’m still so awkward around you.”

My hand is over my eyes when I hear a small chuckle. “I feel like being able to crack rude jokes about Rob is us leveling up, to be honest.”

I peek at Summer from between my fingers. “Yeah?”

Her lips roll together as she nods. “Yeah.”

I square my shoulders, emboldened by her softness. Sometimes, I still can’t believe she doesn’t hate me.

With that thought in my head, I blurt out what I came here to say this morning. “I’ve always loved you and I want you to know that. Even when it hasn’t seemed like it. I know you’ve told me you don’t need me to explain myself, but I need to explain myself.”

My out-of-left-field statement catches her off guard, so I take a sip of my coffee to give my sister a moment.

“Of course. Do you want to go”—she glances around the public gym—“somewhere more private?”

It’s still early, so it’s quiet except for the clank of metal plates over the low beats that play through the speakers. Some guy who looks like he’s doing his best Drax imitation grunts while lifting heavy weights. He’s ridiculous.

“No. Here is good. If we go somewhere more private, I’ll cry.”

Summer’s brow furrows. “But you never cry.”

“Pfft. Apparently, it’s my new thing. It has to be some medical condition I don’t know about.”

I’m still staring at the man whose biceps must be as big as my head. His veins bulge, and his handsome face is all red as he struggles with the weight.

Theo is so much hotter.

I clear my throat and turn back to my sister, prepared to deliver this update in my I’m-a-doctor-with-bad-news way. “I vaguely remember when you were born. I was three, and I remember feeling excited. I wanted you to be a girl so we could play together. Especially with my dollhouse. I loved that dollhouse.”

Summer’s eyes twinkle and she crosses her arms over her torso, drawing my eye to the scar running down her chest.

“But it was never quite like I wanted it to be. Marina kept me away from you before I could even understand why, and then Kip was always busy tending to you on his own, so he didn’t truly have time for me. It felt like he chose you over me sometimes, but I think I know better now.” I wave a hand, not wanting to get into our dad right now. “One time, he had to run to the office while you were napping. Except you woke up and cried. And god . . .” I run a hand through my hair, frustrated at myself because this isn’t the delivery I planned. “I must have been four at that point, but I couldn’t handle listening to you cry. And Marina planned to just leave you there. She said you were safe in your crib, but I . . .”

I gaze out the window, making a mental note to research crying for no good fucking reason. If I wasn’t living the celibate life, I’d worry I’m pregnant again. “You didn’t sound safe. You sounded distraught. So, when she took a call and left me alone, I snuck into your room. I didn’t know what to do, so I crawled into your crib with you and held you. You still cried, but I felt like I was there for you all the same.”

Summer is crying again now, right out in the front of her business. Fat, silent tears slide down her cheeks as she stares into my eyes, listening intently. She doesn’t look away, no matter how badly it hurts.

I take a deep breath and forge ahead. “When Da—Kip—got home, he found us like that, and it turned into this big fight between him and Marina.” I sniffle, turning to give Peter more muffin. “I don’t remember all the details. Only that Marina took my dollhouse away as a punishment and it never came back because I”—I hold my fingers up in air quotes—“made her look bad.”

“Winter, you don’t need to go back and relive this. It’s okay.” Summer steps closer and places her hand on my bicep, squeezing gently.

“No, I do. Because that day, I learned being close with you wouldn’t end well for me. And that once you were old enough, it wouldn’t end well for you either. I mean, I don’t think I knew the lesson at the time, but I learned it all the same. Learned we both could fly under the radar best that way. That Marina paid you less attention when I made her look good.” I can’t help but roll my eyes. “I think I always protected you in my own way. I got comfortable in my role as the evil stepsister, and it just didn’t feel worth changing.”

Summer nods, the tip of her nose pink from crying. “You’re not evil. I wish you’d stop thinking of yourself that way.” Her voice breaks and my throat thickens, stupid eyes stinging as they fill.

“Ah, fuck. Come here, Sum.” I toss the rest of the muffin down in front of Peter and wrap my arms around my little sister. “I’m just so sorry. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for being here for me and Vivi. I don’t know if I deserve all the support, but I’ve taken it anyway. And you haven’t badgered me or asked questions.”

“That’s not how family works, Winter,” she whispers tearfully in my ear. “Plus, Willa told me she caught you sneaking into my hospital room during those years while I was asleep to read my chart and check on me.”

I sniff. “Willa has such a big fucking mouth. But yeah, I did that all the time.” Then I pull back and look my sister right in the eye. “I love you, Sum.”

More tears slide down over the apples of her cheeks, and I peer up at the ceiling like I can use gravity to my advantage and push mine back in.

“I love you too, Win. You really should get this crying thing checked out though.”

A laugh lurches from my chest, and it squeezes the tears from my eyes. “Fuck my life. I’m so soft now. What happened to me?”

Summer giggles, and she’s joined by another chuckle. One I know well. When I glance back, Sloane has emerged wearing leggings and ballet slippers. I didn’t realize she was here, but I should have known. She and Jasper might live at their new house on the ranch, but she still comes in to dance in the back studio. Even when she’s around, she and Jasper are constantly taking little vacations and road trips. I feel like I hardly see her these days.

“You’re happy.” She smiles. “Is it Theo? Does he make you happy?”

Summer smiles, still holding me. “Just don’t ask her about dream Theo. He’s the worst.”

“I’m melting.” I wipe my cheeks. “I’m like Frosty the Snowman.”

Summer presses her head back down on my shoulder. “Thanks for visiting.”

The door jangles, and Willa walks in, fiery mane glowing in the morning sunlight. “Why the fuck is everyone crying? Mondays aren’t that bad.”

“Sloane’s not crying.” But when I turn to my friend, I notice there is, in fact, a tear rolling down her face. “Jesus. I think my disease is infectious.” I continue to swipe at my face. “Everyone stop.”

“Yeah, seriously.” Willa looks between the three of us. “You’re supposed to make grown men cry at this gym, not have some weird Yaya Sisterhood cryfest at the front door. And why is there a dog on the front desk?”

Leave it to Willa to lighten the mood without trying.

“That’s Theo’s dog, Peter.”

She steps up to the desk and scratches Peter behind the ears. He licks his lips, small belly all round and full when he sits. “Like Peter North? Nice.”

“Willa. Please. No.” Summer scrubs at her face.

“What? It’s just that with the way he’s sitting, I can see that for his body size he has a pretty big—”

“Attitude,” I cut her off and let out a watery laugh. “He’s got a big attitude.”

My sister glances up at me, still pressed close. “Thank. You.”

“Willa, what are you doing here?” Sloane asks, trying to redirect the conversation.

“Cade told me to take the morning to myself. So here I am, ready to work out.”

“Work out?” I arch a brow.

“Yeah,” Summer says. “Willa has decided she wants me to train her.”

Willa gestures her chin in my direction. “Winter, you should join us. Summer is vicious. I’m ready for her to hurt me and come out with a killer bubble butt.”

I smile politely, but I don’t know if I’m ready to add that dynamic to Summer and me yet. I’m not sure if it’s what we need.

She must agree, because my sister says, “I could set you up with a different trainer. Might be good for you. I’ll watch Vivi and give you a break. If you do it at the end of the day, I can put her to bed.”

Relief washes over me because it does appeal. Maybe I could make the time.

“That might be good. I could ask Theo to watch Vivi too,” I say, stepping away from Summer to give her a grateful glance. She’s intuitive. She knows.

“Where is Vivi?” Sloane asks, and I sigh, sounding a bit like a lovesick teenager.

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