Hers From The Start: A Collection of First In Series Reverse Harem

by Laura Greenwood

  Ryan chuckled darkly behind me. “Could happen? Really, Kitkat? It’s more like it happens the moment you walk into the room, or we think about you, or we smell something that reminds us of you.” His breath tickled the side of my neck, causing me to squirm in their hold.

  Without warning, Kris spun me halfway until my sides were sandwiched between their chests. He held me securely while Ryan swooped in and captured my lips with his for a brief kiss. Pulling back until his lips ghosted over mine, he said, “It’s only fair that I get my turn.”

  That was his warning to me, and I loved it. His lips deepened their contact, taking charge until it was all I could do to follow. His kiss was so different from Kris’s. If someone blindfolded me and had them kiss me, I was absolutely certain I would be able to tell who was who. But if you’d had asked me before our first kisses, I would have been dead wrong.

  Kris, my quiet, steady, natural born leader was a soft, sweet kisser. The passion in his lips was a slow burn that grew in intensity over time. But it was all done with respect for me and my pace, not the take charge attitude I would have suspected.

  Instead, it was my joker, quick to react, Ryan whose kisses demanded obedience. His own actions were quick flashes of emotion and some of that did translate into how quickly his passion ignited mine. But he wasn’t one to sit back and wait for me, instead he dragged me along behind him. And I happily followed.

  The sound of heavy footsteps growing closer had us scrambling to extricate the three of us from one another.

  I smoothed down the dress my stepmother made me wear the morning I left home as David, Ryan’s father, stepped into the living room. “Ahh, so this is where the three of you are hiding. Julianna is waiting over at Susan’s for Kayla’s father to arrive. She wants us to head over now so she can say her goodbyes.”

  Nodding, I bit my lip. But when David held open his arms, I rushed into them. “Kayla, girl, it gets harder to let you go every summer.” His big strong hand, calloused despite his desk job, stroked over my hair in comfort as he held me close.

  “Dad, are you crying?” Ryan’s gleeful voice drowned out the quiet sniffle of David’s, but not the sobs that started to poor from my chest.

  “Shove off, Ryan James. Or I’ll show you what crying is really like.” David’s gruff voice would have scared anyone, but chuckles sounded from both my boys along with Ryan’s brothers. It also ruined his image when David lifted his hand from my head to wipe his face.

  The sounds of their laughing and joking warmed my heart and cut through my sobs. A choking sob from my chest had Kris and Ryan rushing to my sides.

  “We’ve got her, Dad. The three of you go on ahead, and we’ll be right there.”

  David allowed Kris and Ryan to draw me from his arms. His eyebrows disappeared into his red hairline as his lips pursed, but all he told them was to hurry up.

  They nodded as Kris rocked me from side to side, whispering words of comfort, of nonsense, anything really, in his calming cadence. He’d learned how to calm and heal from one of the best. His mother, a healer and influential spiritual leader within not only their Mi’kmaq community, but also within the First Nations community as a whole, had taught him well.

  The tears slowed and my breathing became less ragged.

  “There you go, KK. You are such a strong person, you can handle this separation even though it will be hard.”

  I wanted to snort at his comment. Hard didn’t even begin to describe what this was going to feel like, but he was right, I would get through it. I had to if I had any hope of returning next summer. I had to keep my feelings locked away from my stepmother’s sharp eyes or else she would find a way to remove this privilege from my life.

  Ryan handed me a tissue to blow my nose, but wiped the tears from my cheeks himself. “There you go, Kitkat. Good as new.”

  I rolled my eyes. There was no way I was good to go. I knew my eyes would be red and my skin blotchy from the tears. Blowing my nose, I excused myself and rushed into the bathroom, calling out that I would only be a minute.

  Taking a quick moment to use the facilities, I worked on trying to calm my heart and to shove my tears and feelings behind the brick wall I’d constructed within my mind. A quick scrub of my face with cold water and I was as good as I was going to get.

  The boys had reclined against the wall, chatting as they waited for me. I took another moment to memorize the lines of their bodies, the energy radiating from each of them, and just the moment in general. I may have been sad at leaving, but my heart was overflowing with my feelings for each of them.

  I smiled brightly when they realized I’d exited the bathroom. As one, their eyes darted to mine and the corners of their lips rose. Without saying a word, they each reached for one of my hands. Joined together, we walked out of Ryan’s house and over to my Aunt Susan’s.

  We didn’t speak. There was nothing left to say. Instead, I savored the moment, the feel of their calloused hands in mine, their distinct scent, even the way they breathed. All of it would be the basis for my dreams for the following year.

  As we stepped up onto the porch, Julianna elbowed the boys out of her way, wrapping me into her motherly embrace. I bit my lip to keep from crying. It was a battle, but I won. It helped that Julianna never said a word, instead she rocked me like a mother would.

  The sound of car tires turning off the main road onto the gravel shared driveway had Julianna stepping back. My bottom lip made a beeline for my teeth. Ryan and Kris each grabbed a hand and help on tightly as Aunt Susan stepped down the stairs and waited for my father’s car to stop.

  Kris squeezed my hand until I lifted my eyes from examining the wooden porch floor to meet his. “I already miss you,” he mouthed before adding, “I’ll write every day.”

  I took a quick glance over my shoulder to confirm that my father made the drive alone. Turning back, I dropped Ryan’s hand to wrap my arms around Kris in a quick hug. “Good luck and I will watch every game on TV.”

  Letting go without giving him a chance to answer, I turned to Ryan. But before I could wrap my arms around him, he’d done the same to me, trapping my arms. “Kitkat, I’m counting the days to our first away game at your arena. I’ll have all the packages from both of us for you.” He dropped a swift kiss to my temple and then dropped his arms as the sound of my father’s car door opening reached us.

  I gave everyone else on the porch a brief hug before scanning the porch for my bag.

  “I have it, Kayla,” Brad called from the trunk area of my father’s car. Catching my eye, he winked before turning back to the conversation he was engaged in with my father.

  “Oh my gosh, he’s really trying to do it,” I whispered in awe. Despite telling it not to grow, hope began to sprout. Maybe I would be watching my first live professional hockey game this season after all. Despite my sadness, the corners of my lips turned up into a steady smile as I stepped down the stairs.

  The sound of double creaks behind me told me that my boys followed. “If he succeeds, Kitkat, you’ll be watching us the following year,” Ryan murmured as I stepped onto the ground.

  Without looking back, I gave my Aunt Susan a quick hug, another one to my father, and then climbed into my front passenger seat.

  Within minutes, the car pulled out onto the road and the long drive home began. Summer was officially over for me and like bears in the wild, my life would be one long hibernation with only the occasional rousing until next summer.

  Chapter Eight

  Huddling under my blanket with a flashlight, I wrote a few lines in Kris’s letter before adding a few to Ryan’s. Finished, I refolded the letters and silently crept out of bed. Pausing to listen for any sounds of stirring within the house, I chewed on my lip. The last thing I needed was to be busted by either my stepmother or my father.

  When nothing but silence reached my ears, I said a quick prayer before crawling under my bed. On my back, I slid to the far side near the wall. I lifted my fingers and ran them over the under
seam on my box spring where I had carefully removed a few stitches and resealed the opening with double sided tape.

  Finding it, I carefully pulled the hidden area open and slid the folded papers inside. Pressing the seam back together, I noticed that the tape no longer held it as tightly as it could. Tomorrow night I would have to remember to bring another piece of tape with me.

  Returning to bed, I breathed a sigh of relief at having completed this one act of defiance. Those letters—my only ties to my boys—were the only thing giving me hope of a better life away from my stepmother.

  Since my return home two months ago, my stepmother became increasingly concerned about my conforming to her idea of a lady. I didn’t know if it was due to my age or the fact that I’d entered grade 11 at school, but she monitored my activities with an even closer eye.

  I had hoped to write the test to receive my learner’s permit for driving, but that had been denied. She said that ladies did not need to concern themselves with driving until they were living away from their parents and married. And my father didn’t fight it. It certainly wasn’t something I believed in, but I needed to obey their rules. It wasn’t as if one of them would have paid for driving lessons or taken me out to teach me themselves even if I’d somehow managed to sneak away and write the test. In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t really matter when I received my permit. I wouldn’t be allowed behind a wheel until the summer at Aunt Susan’s anyway.

  But the items that caused the most issues were the increased babysitting and homemaking chores. It was now my responsibility most nights to cook supper, bathe my younger siblings, and get them off to bed. This was on top of my homework and my general cleaning chores. To help out, my stepmother decided I spent too much time on public transport where I could interact with young males without a chaperon, so she decided to drive myself and my siblings who attended school to school.

  My only form of escape was those secret notes, and I lived for the day Ryan’s team would be playing against ours in our arena. Even there, Lady Luck was not on my side. The Junior teams played an uneven schedule, and this year, Ryan’s team would only play in our arena twice instead of the normal four times, cutting my chances to see him in half.

  As I pulled the covers back over me and snuggled into my pillow, I reminded myself that in two weeks time, I would finally be able to touch Ryan. I was living for that day.

  “Ready to go?” My father called from where he waited at the front door.

  As I left my bedroom with my secret packet of letters tucked into the hoodie I wore under the local team’s hockey jersey, I heard my stepmother complaining once again about my trips to the arena.

  I rolled my eyes wondering why, after all these years, she still continued to argue about it. It was the one thing my father defied her on. But then again, considering how many things he’d allowed her to both introduce and renege on since I returned home, I wasn’t surprised she’d stepped up her game in trying to get him to stop allowing me to attend hockey games. As for Brad’s promise—I knew there was no chance this year.

  With only a few steps left until I entered our foyer where my father and stepmother waited, I slowed my gait and wiped all emotion from my face. I’d learned that if I were to act like a lady when leaving the house, things went smoother, even in the dreaded pants.

  “Mother. Father. I am all ready. Sorry for having kept you waiting.” I ensured my eyes looked over their shoulders until they responded.

  “Did you feed your sisters and brothers?”

  “I did, Mother. They are also washed and in their pyjamas. I read them a story earlier and queued up one of the ones I’d taped earlier for them to listen as they lay in bed.” My voice was soft and demure like she drilled into me.

  She nodded her head, but kept her lips tight. My stepmother’s eyes examined each article I wore. With a sigh, she turned to my father and kissed his cheek. “Drive safe. Watch her around other men.” She spun on her heel without waiting for a response and stormed off down the hall toward the bedroom where two of my three younger siblings slept.

  My father smiled and his shoulders slumped. This was the only time I ever saw hints of my old dad, the one before my stepmother entered our lives. He held out his elbow for me to grasp. “Shall we go then? I want to get there in time to purchase some snacks.”

  “Yes, please.” I couldn’t help the grin that spread over my face as we walked out the door toward our older sedan.

  Walking into the arena, I was hit with a blast of icy air, but it seemed almost warm in comparison to the frigid temperatures of our early cold snap. My hands were shoved into the pockets of my parka to keep warm. It was times like this that I remembered how Kris mentioned that he always had a blanket with him for his mother in case she was able to attend a game. I wondered if she’d been able to see him play for his new team yet.

  After purchasing some snacks, my father led us to his season ticket seats to the side of the visitor’s box. He liked to sit next to the visiting team decked out in all the home team paraphernalia. He thought it would put the visiting team a little off their game to be surrounded by the “enemy.” Me, I loved sitting there as it gave me close up views of Ryan and Kris when he had played at this level. I wouldn’t be able to speak with Ryan until after the game, but at least this way we could trade smiles and mouth words to each other during the warm up and the game.

  I waited eagerly for the on ice practice to begin. My fingers, no longer in my coat as I’d placed it on the seat behind me, clenched into my palms until I was sure I’d begin to bleed.

  “What has you so uptight tonight, Kayla?”

  Crap. Of all the times my father would notice something about me, it would be tonight. Trying to relax my fingers and to breathe normally, I began to tap my toes inside my boots instead. “Well, you know I’m always anxious whenever we play against Ryan’s team. It’s been a long wait to see the Kingston team this year.”

  His eyes examined me shrewdly as if he detected something in my voice. I worked at schooling my thoughts and returning to the semi-placid lady my stepmother wanted me to be. Semi-placid because with the clock almost at zero, I couldn’t quite remove my eagerness from my face. “He’s still like an older brother, correct?”

  Reviewing my actions and all my words, I plastered a puzzled look onto my face. “Of course. I just wondered how he is handling all the changes this year with Kris playing in Belleville.”

  My father hmphed, but then the sound of the announcer welcoming the teams to the ice for the pregame warmup pulled his attention away. I wanted to wipe my brow in relief, but the sight of Ryan walking out of the player tunnel and turning my direction gathered my entire focus.

  He waved with his bottom fingers as he cradled the stick with only his thumb and index finger. I waved back, ensuring I kept my hand out of my father’s view. I knew immediately when my father looked back toward the ice as Ryan mouthed, “Hi, Kitkat” with a large smile.

  I returned his smile, holding his eyes until he had to turn his gaze away to ensure he didn’t wipe out stepping onto the ice.

  My eyes followed him throughout the warm up, and I rejoiced internally every time he scored on his own net in practice.

  “Well, he doesn’t seem to have lost any skill without Kris there to prop him up. I’m happy for the kid. I thought all his skill might have come from Kris.” My father sat down in his seat and patted mine.

  Following his unvocalized command, I sat. “Both Brad and Michael are great, so I think it is genetic.”

  “Maybe,” my father agreed. “I’m still relieved though. He’s a good kid. If I didn’t think so, I wouldn’t let him spend so much time with you during the summer.”

  Playing it safe, I kept my mouth shut during the rest of the warm up and while they cleaned the ice before the game started.

  Throughout the game, I watched with bated breath each time Ryan took to the ice. He played extremely well and showcased that he had talent, and a lot of it, without Kris
. I noticed some scouts in the arena talking after each goal he scored, and I knew he would be heading off to a professional team in the draft next summer.

  My heart sank at the thought. It was hard enough this year with not seeing Kris. I couldn’t begin to imagine what my senior year in high school would be like without either of them to look forward to.

  The game ended with a resounding victory for Kingston, crushing the crowd’s expectations for their home team. Everyone had hoped that this year they would be making a playoff run as the team was relatively unchanged from the year before. But Kingston, who had lost a number of their top players to professional contracts, school, or aging out of Junior hockey, was showing that they contained a lot of depth within their rosters.

  My father stood up and held out a hand to me. My stepmother’s etiquette lessons had been drilled into him as well. She told him that for me to act like a lady when we were out, then he needed to treat me as one. I didn’t mind as it made things a little more formal between us, easing the strain of unnatural silences.

  Standing, I followed him as he used his pass to bring us back to the locker room area. We waited in the hall for almost thirty minutes before, Ryan emerged, still in half his hockey gear. “Sorry to keep you guys waiting, but I had to speak to some reporters and then some scouts.”

  “Not a problem, kid. You deserve it. You played extremely well tonight.” My father patted Ryan’s shoulder although Ryan towered over him while wearing skates. “I’ll leave the two of you alone to talk while I go see my team.” My father captured my gaze. “Fifteen minutes at the most, Kayla. And remember the rules.”

  I nodded and dropped my gaze to the rubber carpeting that lined the hallway.