Falling for Him

by Jessica Roe

  Water, I decide, lugging the pack into the cart and feeling good about the choice. Nash won't thank me, but I still feel good.

  I'm not sure how I ended up as the one on grocery shopping duty, but things at home were getting desperate. Desperate enough that Nash, Silver and I ended up having Christmas cookies and eggnog for breakfast, so something had definitely needed to be done.

  My phone beeps with a video message and I almost ignore it, knowing the only person it would be from is Nash. I only left the guy thirty minutes ago, so nothing that pressing could have happened already.

  But there's only one checkout counter open and there's a line, so I open it up while I wait.

  “You might wanna get home right now-” a furious looking Nash growls into the camera, scowling.

  “You're overreacting, you ass,” I hear Silver's voice say in the background. He sounds sincerely unamused.

  “-because I'm about to fucking kill him!” Nash finishes, and the video cuts off.

  I sigh, pulling the cart back to the beer aisle and grabbing a six pack. I have a feeling we're going to need it.

  +++

  I tried to call Nash on the way home to find out what the deal was, but he ignored me. I tried again when I got back to ask him to help carry up the groceries, but still no answer. The reason for this becomes apparent when I finally struggle inside with my arms full.

  He and Silver are scuffling on the living room floor like a pair of big, stupid kids. The place around them is a mess; the lamp has been knocked over, cushions have been scattered across the floor, and the coffee table has been tipped on its side. Clearly they've been at this for a while. Nash has a big bruise on his cheek and a fat lip, and he has Silver in a headlock.

  I shake my head as I step around them to dump the groceries on the kitchen counter. Why do men always feel the need to solve their differences with their fists? Calmly, because growing up with them I'm more than used to this crap, I fill up a jug with cold water and walk over. I give them ample time to notice I'm here, but they're too busy being idiots so I pour the water right over their heads.

  They immediately jump apart, screeching like a pair of girls, cursing first each other and then me.

  “What the hell, Ivy?” Silver demands. He stands and runs his hands through his curly hair, now damp and flat on his head.

  I shove my hands on my hips and tap the floor with my foot, giving them my sternest expression. Separating their lame guy fights was something I got used to as a teenager, but it never gets any less annoying. “I could ask you two the same thing.”

  Nash climbs to his feet, full on glaring at Silver. “Why don't you tell her?”

  “Why don't you stop being an ass?”

  Rolling my eyes, I fix the coffee table and make sure it's stood between them because they look like they could go off on each other again at any moment. “You realize Blair would kill you both if she could see you right now?”

  Mentioning her name was the wrong move because Nash's face grows red with anger. “He's planning to propose to her,” he accuses hotly, as if Silver was scheming to commit some heinous crime. “To my little sister!”

  “Dude!” Silver protests. “I told you not to tell anyone. It's called a secret for a reason!”

  I hold up my hands to stop them both. “So what you're saying is, the reason I came home to find you tearing each other to pieces on the floor is because Silver wants to ask Blair to marry him?” I shake my head at Silver, feigning disgust. “You unscrupulous bastard!”

  “Fucking hilarious, Ivy,” Nash grumbles sulkily.

  “What the heck is your deal?” I ask him. “He wants to spend the rest of his life with her. To commit to her. You should be thrilled right now. Why are you treating this like it's a bad thing?” I've got a sneaking suspicion that it's all to do with Nash being the hotheaded, protective older brother again. It makes him so unreasonable.

  His black t-shirt is tight – because he likes to show off – and the sleeves strain around his arms as he folds them across his chest. “Blair's just a kid, she can't be getting her ass married. And what if this dick changes his mind down the line? He'll break her heart!”

  “She is not a damned kid, Nash!” Silver yells across the room, frustration lacing his every word. “Hell, she was never really a kid, she never had that luxury.”

  “But-”

  “This isn't even about her and you know it. It's about you. You missed out on her growing up so you think you have to make up for it by treating her like a child all the time but you know what? It's never gonna happen. You're never gonna get Blair's childhood back so get the hell over it and stop trying to overcompensate!”

  Silver's words make sense, though I might have tried a smidge harder to get them out a little nicer, but they only seem to enrage Nash. A vein bulges in his neck as he stares Silver down. “You piece of shit!” he growls, and then he kicks the coffee table aside and lunges again. They both tumble to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs.

  Not really thinking my actions through, because hello stupid, I jump on top of Nash's back, clinging on like a baby monkey. He tries to swat me away but I hold on tight around his neck.

  Getting frustrated with me, he easily stands up straight, like my weight is nothing at all to him. “Get off my back, Ivy,” he grinds out.

  “Only if you promise to stop fighting!”

  “Okay, okay.”

  I slide down until my feet drop to the floor, though this time I make sure I'm standing between the two guys as a buffer. They may be acting like total hotheads, but they would never do anything that might harm me.

  Silver clambers to his feet, angrily wiping a trickle of blood from under his nose and breathing heavily. “Blair is not a kid,” he repeats hoarsely, his nostrils flaring as he glares at Nash. “And it's not like I was planning to propose right now, you ass. If you'd have just listened to me instead of flying off the handle like a dick, I would have been able to tell you that I was going to wait until she finishes college next year.” He spins away then, and in a move that shocks the hell out of me, he punches the wall furiously. I flinch, sure that I've never seen him so angry before. He flexes his fist and then turns back to Nash, stepping forward. “And that you could think I'd ever change my mind about Blair. . . It just makes me want to break your fucking face. I'll never change my mind about her. She is IT for me, you know that more than anyone. Jesus, Nash. Do you think I'd have risked everything – my career, my reputation, our damned friendship – if I hadn't been one hundred percent sure of how much I love her?”

  Silence. They kind of just stand there after his speech, staring each other down as they slowly lose their steam.

  Eventually Nash nods contritely. “Okay, man. I was wrong to say that, I admit that. But. . .what about the future? What if she wants to travel with her photography when she finishes college? That's what some people do, right? Or. . .I don't know, what if she gets a job somewhere and wants to move away? What if she has plans? You just gonna quit your job and go with her?”

  Silver looks offended. “You think I haven't thought this through? You think I haven't thought about any of that? About every possible path our lives might take? I've got it planned, man. When she finishes college I'm gonna put Grams' house up for sale, and we'll be able to use the money to buy a new house, any place she wants. Or we can put some aside and use the rest to travel, or even open up a photography studio if she wants. Honestly, I'm good with whatever she decides to do next, as long as we're doing it together. Because she is my future, Nash. Not a house, or a city, or a job. Just her.”

  Nash scrubs a hand over his hair and paces back a few steps, coming to a stop behind one of the armchairs. He rests his hands on the back and squeezes so tight his knuckles grow white and the veins bulge in his forearms. “You really have thought about it,” he admits quietly, and I can tell how hard it was for him. He's never liked to admit to being in the wrong.

  “You seriously doubted me? You know how much I l
ove her. She's my whole world, bro.”

  He arches his back and lowers his head, still gripping the chair. “Yeah, I know.”

  I take a deep breath, not only because I think the violence is officially over, but because I'm realizing just how serious Silver really is about Blair. Not that I'd doubted it before, but witnessing the passion in which he talks about her is something else, a whole other ball game.

  “I'm going to marry her,” he states. I glance back and forth at the two of them. Things are intense now; I think they may have forgotten I'm even here. I could whip off my top and wiggle my boobs around and I doubt they'd notice. I've done my part – the rest is between them. I should edge away, but I'm nosy and I want to see what happens next. “I told you because I want you to be happy for us, but it's happening even if you're not.”

  Nash remains quiet at this. He doesn't glance up from where his fingers are crushing the back of the armchair.

  When the silence goes on too long, I clear my throat pointedly.

  “What?” he asks, finally looking up.

  “You're supposed to say something right now,” I tell him, widening my eyes and cocking my head towards Silver. “Something nice, preferably.”

  He sighs, like he's just so hard done to. “Of course I'm happy for you, man. Or I guess I will be when the shock wears off.” He hooks an arm around the back of his neck, oh so awkward. Yelling at each other is fine, punching each other is even better, but talking about their feelings? Yeah, that's when things get difficult. “You know you're the only one I'd ever let marry my sister.” That looked extremely painful for him to admit. I'm proud of him, though I don't say that out loud because he'd only tell me to get screwed.

  Silver jerks his head once in a nod and I think. . .I think this means they've made up. Maybe? Oh boy, I don't know. Guys are so confusing.

  “And you're right,” Nash adds. “I feel like shit every time I think about how she didn't get to grow up with us, and I feel worse when I imagine the crap she went through as a kid. Alone. I just want to make up for it, I guess.”

  Silver frowns. “Dude, you were a kid yourself when all that went down. It's not on you. No one thinks it is.”

  “Yeah, well, I may have been a kid then, but I was twenty four by the time she came to live with us. I had years to look for her before and I didn't.”

  Silver doesn't reply to that; I don't think he even knows what to say.

  Gradually the two of them edge their way towards the sofa, slapping each others backs before sitting down. I let out a sigh of relief, more sure than ever that the fight is officially over.

  “My fucking toe hurts,” Nash complains.

  Silver eyes him. “From where you kicked the table?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good, you ass. My face hurts.”

  “Good.”

  I sit down on the arm of the sofa next to Silver, finally allowing myself to get excited now the drama is over. I bounce up and down, barely able to contain myself.

  “What?” Silver wants to know when he looks at me.

  “You're gonna ask Blair to marry you? I can't believe it. You have to tell me everything right now!”

  He rolls his eyes. “Girls,” he complains.

  Nash nods. “Girls.”

  +++

  Later, Blair picks Nathan up and brings him over so we can all stuff our faces with leftovers sent by Felicia. Blair immediately demands to know why her brother and boyfriend are banged up so they fob her off with a story about a computer game bet gone wrong. She doesn't look like she believes them, but clearly she knows when to let something go. Or more likely she just knows how dumb our guys can be.

  “God,” Nathan says around a mouthful of turkey sandwich as we all sit around the floor in the living room. We have a kitchen table and all, but we're not quite grownup enough to use it. “Your mom really knows how to cook. Next year I'm coming to your house for Christmas.”

  “Don't you parents hire professional caterers for Christmas?” I ask him.

  “Yeah, but homemade is always way better.”

  Nathan's family are filthy rich, the kind of people who throw money at everything, and perfection is a must when it comes to his parents. I remember their gigantic, magazine worthy house was always clinically spotless, but so cold, so empty of warmth and life. They themselves, the perfect members of rich society, always put together and always proper, but unable to show Nathan even the smallest scrap of love. Their parties – birthdays, Christmas, holidays – were never about fun, but about forming connections. Even Nathan's eighteenth birthday party was more about forcefully encouraging him to enter into a courtship with the daughter of one of his father's business associates. It was supposed to have led to marriage eventually, a way to connect the two families. It didn't work, of course, because Nathan. . .he's just not like them. He's warm and loyal and fun; he could care less about money or connections or any of those fancy affairs. It was why he'd practically lived at our houses when we were younger, because he'd hated going back there. Even now he only spends times with his parents when he absolutely has to. They aren't afraid to let him know how much of a disappointment he is to them, and they bring him down in ways that most other things can't.

  “So when are you going back to the city?” he asks Blair and Silver.

  “Tomorrow,” Silver answers. “But we'll be back for your New Year's Eve party.”

  “Better had be – it's gonna be epic.” Earlier this year, Nathan finally got a hold of the art gallery his grandfather had left him in his will. His grandfather had been the only member of his family that Nathan had ever truly cared about, and the two of them had always been so passionate about the gallery. He was supposed to have inherited it once he'd turned twenty one, but his butt head of a father managed to complicate things for the longest time. He'd wanted Nathan to be a lawyer like him, and to one day take over his law firm, though that was never what Nathan wanted. But now, after years of fighting for it, the gallery is finally his. It's done well this year, and to celebrate, he's hosting a huge party there to bring the new year in.

  “I can't wait to go home and get a decent night's sleep again,” Silver adds, digging into his potatoes.

  “Isn't the sofa comfortable?” I ask, immediately feeling guilty. If I hadn't been living here he could have taken the spare room. But I don't feel guilty enough to, you know, give the room up or anything.

  He shakes his head. “No, it's fine. I just can't really sleep without Blair anymore.”

  “LAME!” Nathan immediately calls, pinging his fork at Silver's leg. Nash and I both pretend to gag.

  “You're such a girl,” Blair teases him fondly, but there are faint dark smudges beneath her own eyes so I suspect she's been having the same problem. Silver laughs, mostly because he knows what a dork he is, and picks up her hand to kiss the back of her knuckles.

  “You two make me wanna puke,” Nash informs them. He lifts the tinfoil off a plate and sniffs. “Sweet, Mom gave us ham.”

  “Ooh, gimme!” Blair tries to snatch the plate off him but he holds it above her head. They scuffle for a moment before she pinches him and wins. I smile, because Nash may think he missed a lot of Blair's youth, but they seem to have the whole sibling thing down exactly right. “Here, you can have this bit,” she allows generously, scraping a tiny piece onto his plate.

  My cell dings, alerting me to a new email. I put my plate aside and pick up my phone curiously, wondering who could be emailing me the day after Christmas. Or at all, since I'm now a social leper in the fashion industry and people rarely email me when it isn't to do with work.

  My eyes widen when I realize who it's from, because this has to be the worst possible timing.

  Oh. Crap.

  Chapter 7

  Ivy

  “Who's that?” Nash wants to know, startling me.

  I panic, holding the phone against my chest and glancing up at their curious faces like a deer caught in headlights. “No one,” I reply quickly, and
I curse myself for sounding so secretive because obviously they're not going to let it go now.

  “Ha! Ivy's got a secret boyfriend,” Silver teases.

  “No I haven't.” Damn it. That actually would have been a good cover. “I mean, yes I have. And he's a secret. Very, very secret. So leave it, guys.”

  Nathan snickers. “Is it Space Head? Is he sending you dirty pics of himself in his underwear? Ivy, you bad girl.” His face scrunches up. “Gross. Now I've just given myself mental images.”

  Nash is silent, but he's eyeing me suspiciously, one corner of his mouth turned up in a challenging smirk. He isn't fooled by me at all. I should have made something up as soon as they asked me about the email instead of being so secretive about it. Of course they want to know what's going on – none of them have any concept of social boundaries.

  “It's nothing,” I say. “Please just let it go.”

  I see what's about to happen only a second before it does, and by then I'm far too late to stop it. Squealing, I try to dive to the side as Nash launches himself at me but he catches me before I can escape.

  “No!” I screech, refusing to let go of the phone as he tries to grapple it out of my hands. He wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me up, sitting up high on his knees. Suddenly I feel very small next to him.

  “Ha ha!” he yells triumphantly when the phone slips from my grasp. He catches it, then dumps me on the armchair.

  I immediately jump at him, but he turns his back and he's too broad for me to get around. “Nash, don't-”

  But it's too late. He glances at the screen, and then just like mine did, his eyes widen as he realizes what I was trying to hide. “Oh,” he says slowly, the grin sliding from his face. He clams up, but his eyes flicker towards Nathan for the briefest second.

  A second is all Nathan needs to sense that whatever this is, it has to do with him. He glances between the two of us, his amusement fading away when he realizes that something isn't right. “What the fuck?”

  “Ivy's right, it's nothing,” Nash says, avoiding eye contact and handing the phone back to me. He moves over to the sofa and sits down without another word, probably berating himself in his head for not letting it be like I TOLD HIM TO!