Only now does it occur to me that I should have mentioned to Brayden that my brother has Angelman Syndrome. It’s not often that I bring guys home, and when I do, the way they handle themselves in his presence gives me a true glimpse into the kind of people they are. Call it a litmus test of sorts.
Brayden raises a hand in greeting. “Hey. It’s nice to meet you. Thanks for letting me drop by.”
A hushed stillness falls over the group that stretches just to the point of discomfort. I’m about to jump in and save us from impending doom when Lucus tilts his head. “You play football?”
“Yup,” Brayden replies easily, “I’m a wide receiver for the Wildcats.” There’s a beat of silence. “Do you like football?”
My brother’s eyes light up and some of his earlier reserve falls away. “I love football! I watch all the games on television. Sometimes Dad takes me to the stadium.”
A smile curves Brayden’s lips. “It’s pretty cool to sit in the stands and watch, isn’t it?”
Lucus nods as his voice ratchets up in intensity. “I get to have popcorn and a hot dog and sometimes,” his gaze flickers to our mother as he drops his voice, “if Mom isn’t there, Dad lets me have an orange soda, but that’s only for special occasions.”
“I heard that,” Mom says over the babble of voices. She shoots my father a mock glare. Even though she pretends otherwise, she’s well aware of what happens when she’s not around. “We’ll be having a little chat about that after the party.”
Dad shrugs before pulling her close and pressing a kiss against the side of her face. “Let’s focus on your birthday and save that unpleasant conversation for another day.”
“Uh-huh,” she says, the edges of her lips curling upward.
“That sounds like a good time,” Brayden says, focusing on my brother.
“It’s a lot of fun.”
“If you’re interested,” Brayden shifts his weight before offering, “I can probably get a couple tickets at the fifty-yard line.”
My brother’s eyes widen, and his mouth drops open. “Really? That would be awesome!” He glances at our father. “Right, Dad?”
“Sure would,” he replies, looking pleasantly surprised at how well the conversation is going.
Emotion wells in my throat, making it difficult to swallow past the thick lump that has become lodged there. I glance at Brayden, only to find him smiling at my brother.
Who is this guy?
And why is he being so nice to Lucus?
Confusion swirls through me like a thick fog, throwing me out of whack. It’s not the first time it’s happened where he’s concerned. Just when I start to feel like I have Brayden figured out, he does something that makes me question everything I assumed I knew. It takes a moment to grasp that I’m reluctant to alter my perception of him. I don’t want to feel any differently about Brayden or like him more than I already do. That realization is enough to constrict my heart, making it impossible to suck a full breath into my lungs.
Thankfully, I’m saved from further introspection when Caden lets loose a scream so loud it could wake the dead. Conversation and movement erupt all at once, filling the hallway with commotion. It’s almost as if now that Lucus’ seal of approval has been earned, my family is free to descend on Brayden, shaking his hand and introducing themselves as I stand by helplessly and watch.
To have the handsome, six-foot football player in my home, meeting my family feels surreal. The way he easily interacts with them is equally strange. He’s like a chameleon, fitting in effortlessly wherever he goes.
Three hours later and I’m polishing off a slice of chocolate birthday cake. If there’s one thing I can’t resist, it’s chocolaty cake with buttercream frosting.
Yum.
“Well, I must say that he seems nice,” Mom says, sidling up to me near the basketball court in the driveway where Lucus has roped Brayden into a game of horse. I’ve lost track of how many times they’ve played. It has to be somewhere around a dozen.
My gaze flickers to the dark-haired guy.
Oh, who am I kidding?
My attention has been laser-focused on him for the last hour. Instead of mingling with my family, I’m watching Brayden shoot hoops and goof around with my brother.
I shrug, torn between blurting out the truth regarding our relationship and allowing her to believe that we’re a legit couple without an expiration date in sight. Lying to my family has never sat well with me.
When she arches a brow, I clear my throat and decide to keep the truth buried deep inside, “Yeah, he is.” Maybe more than I originally gave him credit for.
Trust me, it’s not an easy admittance. Even privately to myself.
She nods toward the boys. “Lucus certainly has taken to him. My guess is that he’s found a new best friend.”