Page 20

“It says here Colin was most likely to be a millionaire by the time he was thirty.”

“They were right.” His friend had left university with a computing degree and gone on to set up his own tech company whose purpose had gone way over Luke’s head. Clearly its brilliance had resonated with others far more intelligent than Luke though, because five years later, his buddy had sold it for an obscene amount of money.

She flicked over a page. “What did they say about you?” He winced and made to grab the book from her, but it was too late. “Most likely to . . . tell you to eff off.” She read out loud and rolled her eyes. “So you were a grump even in school, huh?”

It was a dig he should be able to brush off, but today it prodded at places left unbearably tender by a morning rooting through his friend’s private possessions. “Where are you with sorting out the drawers?” He barked.

She stared stonily back at him. “You’re not in charge here, you know.”

“If I was, we’d be done by now.”

“Yeah well one of us is finding this hard. One of us wants to be careful about what we throw away of her brother’s life. To take a minute to sit and read about him.”

“He was my brother too,” he snapped. Then immediately regretted it as she reared back, her jaw falling open in shock. “I’m going to make a drink,” he said roughly, dumping the bag on the floor. “Do you want one?”

She gave a slow shake of her head, those blue eyes not leaving his until he dragged his own gaze away. Still, he felt them on his back as he marched out of the room.

He filled the kettle with stiff, jerky movements, anger humming through him. At her, for finding that damn book, for making assumptions, for resurrecting buried memories. At himself for reacting, when he’d learned to bury his feelings for exactly this reason. It hurt too much to remember.

As he poured boiling water into his mug, he heard the pad of sock-covered feet behind him. Mismatched socks, one red and white striped, one with snowmen.

“In the yearbook, do you remember what Colin said when he was asked to sum himself up?” She asked quietly.

He swallowed the lump lodged in his throat. “Look out world, here I come.”

“Correct.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “He didn’t really change, did he? Still larger than life right till the end.”

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say to that, so he focused on taking out the tea bag. Adding a splash of milk to the mug.

“Do you remember what you said when you were asked to sum yourself up for the yearbook?”

Of course he remembered. He remembered too much from that time. “I’m not sure,” he hedged.

“You said . . .” She pulled the yearbook from behind her back and read out his embarrassing quote. “Do I have to?”

“I wasn’t good at thinking on the spot,” he defended.

“No.” Her teeth worried at her bottom lip. “But if I’ve got it right, you were also coping with an awful lot around the time that book was written.”

“Mum hadn’t died then.” He took a gulp of his tea, felt the burn of the hot liquid travel down his throat. “It came a few months after graduation.”

“I’m sorry.” Her shoulders slumped and she turned away, inhaling a few deep breaths before facing him again. “I keep forgetting you’ve been through this before, lost someone who meant the world to you.” Her voice cracked and she swallowed. “It’s beyond clear to me now that Colin fits into that category as much for you as he does . . . did for me.”

“He wasn’t my brother,” he said roughly. “But I loved him like he was.”

“I can see that.” Her eyes welled. “I can also see that what you’ve been doing, acting like it doesn’t hurt to sort through all his things, is exactly that. An act.”

“It doesn’t help to keep it.” He walked over and squeezed her shoulder. “It will hurt like hell whatever you do.”

“Yeah, thanks.” She hiccupped out a laugh. “And, thanks for, you know, pushing me not to keep everything. In your clumsy way, I can see you’re trying to help.”

“Clumsy, huh?”

Her smile turned teasing. “So clumsy it’s embarrassing.” She slid the book onto the table. “Would you do me a favor?”

He was starting to realize he’d do anything for this woman. And not just because he knew it was what Colin would have wanted. He liked her, admired her. And was attracted to her a little too much considering he couldn’t act on it, yet still had another twenty odd days of living with her. “Name it.”

“Would you sit down and look at this book with me? Give me some of the stories behind the pictures? I promise to go back and finish clearing his room after.”