Without thinking, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her head. “S’all right, girl,” I murmured.
When I looked up, Caroline was staring at me. At us.
Uh-oh.
I made a kind of what-can-you-do? face at my sister. In response, her nostrils flared, a gesture I immediately recognized from our childhood as a sign that someone was about to be very sorry they’d ticked her off. But I couldn’t deal with my sister right now, not when Lyssa was gripping the front of my shirt and kneading it like a kitten seeking comfort.
I tugged Lyssa into the corner, where Caroline couldn’t hear us.
“What was her name?”
“Wanda,” I replied, rubbing her back. “I was five when she died.”
Lyssa’s big eyes hadn’t lost the shine of unshed tears, so I kept talking.
“Caroline doesn’t like to discuss her, but I don’t mind. I talk to her sometimes when I feed the animals in the morning. Dad talks to that candle. You’ll probably see him start yapping at it later, so don’t panic and think he’s lost his marbles. My mum had a big smile and a cloud of curly hair that smelled nice. I don’t remember much more about her than that.”
“I’m so sorry,” Lyssa whispered.
People always whispered when they learned you had a dead mum.
“Thank you,” I replied, because you were supposed to.
“Are you okay?”
I made a noncommittal motion with my head. “I don’t know any different. It’s harder some days than others—like when people ask What do your parents do? or something casual like that. Everyone always assumes you have a mum. That’s the default. But you couldn’t ask for a better parent than Kev Holliday. Sometimes people are surprised to learn he raised us without a woman in the house, but honestly, it’s more surprising to me that people grow up without a Kev in their house.”
“He’s the best,” Lyssa said fervently.
“He is.”
“My stepdad isn’t like Kev.” She added quickly, “He’s not a bad person, he’s just always preoccupied. Your dad cares about all of you so much.”
I knew a bit about Lyssa’s family from watching her videos, but I liked that she was telling me this herself. She never said a lot about her mum—mom—but I knew they weren’t on the best terms. It was obvious to anyone who’d watched as many of her videos as I had.
She dropped her eyes and fidgeted with the hem of her skirt.
I understood now why a family dinner like this was important to Lyssa, why she was being so fucking intense about her water facts and about her job setting the table, and why she was beaming a little intensely at everyone.
She was nervous because it was important to her.
My heart gave a little thud.
“We should take our seats,” I said but I didn’t move. I just looked at her, my fucking heart in my eyeballs, probably. It felt like it was launching toward her with each beat, like a horny cartoon character.
Lyssa wiped at her chin, inspecting it for lipstick. “What? Do I have something on my face?”
“Yeah.” I couldn’t help dropping a quick kiss on her lips. “Me.”
Her cheeks flamed and she pushed at my chest, but she couldn’t stop her wide grin, which made me grin more.
“Mike, stop it,” she hissed. “We’re supposed to be a secret, remember? You wanted to keep us a secret.”
“Fuck secrets,” I said, even as I felt Caroline’s eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. “Make videos about me if you want. Use me to make that fashion prick jealous. Have at it, Princess.”
A grin spread across her face. Seeing it, being responsible for it, I felt a million feet tall, like I could leap buildings and lift trees off babies or whatever. When I was the reason Lyssa Luxe was smiling like that, I was invincible. And I didn’t care if the world knew it. In fact, I wanted them to.
So what if I was a brainless lug whose only real talent was pulling women? I’d pulled a damn good one here, and if that’s all people knew me for: whatever. I had this girl. I had my animals. I didn’t actually need anything else. Maybe if I’d been more of a realist, I would have figured that out sooner.
