Page 46 of The Spare

I pull up behind all the other family members’ cars right as the last rays of sun disappear and all the lights around the property pop on. The trees around us light up, the fountain gurgles, and I see my mother has decorated it with Melody's favorite flowers. It's an explosion of lush colors entwined with greenery that would put any party planner to shame.

"Aw, it's so pretty!" Melody gushes, stepping closer and touching one of the flowers. I pluck it off and hand it to her.

Her fingers graze mine gently as she takes it, and that familiar spark tugs at me once again. I know I'm not the only one who feels this.

Placing a hand on her lower back, I lead us to the stairs but stay a step down to watch her legs in this dress. I tug at my collar, feeling extra warm, and be sure to fix my face when we arrive on the landing together and push through the front door.

Soft instrumental music greets us first, along with the warmth of my parents’ home. Muted sounds of our family talking and laughing drift from the den to the foyer, informing me they're knee deep in having a good time. So good, I wonder if we even had to show up. Theoretically, I could be deep in something myself.

Knuckle deep.

My parents’ butler appears out of thin air, interrupting my thoughts of sliding my fingers in Melody's pussy. "Your jacket, sir?"

"Sure thing, Jefferies." I shrug out of it and then undo my cuff links, sliding them into my pants pocket. I spend a second rolling up my sleeves to my elbow, undoing my tie, leaving the two pieces hanging down. I'm in the middle of undoing the first couple buttons when Melody clears her throat, bringing my attention to her. "Yes, Mel?"

"What the fuck are you doing?"

I grin. "A guy can't get comfortable?"

She rolls her eyes. "You rushed me half to death so you could take your time spraying perfume on me and then undressing in your parents’ foyer? Got it."

I smile. "Such an attitude. Why do you only ever show it with me?" I ask, knowing as soon as we get in the den, Melody's going to withdraw into herself like she always does. It's not that she doesn't like them; she's just more like me. Doesn't fit in. Isn't as sure of herself like the others are.

A sentiment I can sympathize with. Because I was a late bloomer, too. Never knowing which direction to go in, never knowing how to trust myself and my instincts.

It took me years to gain confidence in myself. A byproduct of being a younger sibling. Sometimes I wonder if that month I spent helping Melody through the trauma of Isobel being kidnapped meant as much to her as it did me.

Hours I'd spent feeding her, holding her, sitting with her in silence. Letting her cry on me. Wiping her tears away.

The hundreds of Hail Marys I've said over this girl probably needs a case study. They say everything happens for a reason, and though I'll never tell any of them because it's fucking selfish and wrong as fuck to say, I firmly believe that Isobel going through that kidnapping was the catalyst to my personality change. And Melody.

I'm not ashamed to admit to myself that a woman woke my ass up out of the deep pit of spite I'd been stewing in for years, until she came along.

Nurturing her through that month finally broke something inside me that they all spent years trying to chip away at. It made me realize that I could trust myself, if I just allowed myself to be vulnerable instead of spiteful. It took some time, but eventually my displeasure with Hendrix and my family morphed into camaraderie.

And the harder I worked, that camaraderie turned into respect.

"I don't just show it with you," she retorts in a sassy tone, tilting her chin up and looking away.

"Yes, you do."I chuckle, fixing my watch. When I'm sure that I'm put together comfortably I step into her and then place my hand on her lower back and press.

"No, I don't," she whispers at me defiantly.

"Stop talking back," I say, pressing my lips to her temple in a hard kiss. "And let's try to enjoy your birthday with them."

"I'm not talking back!"

I ignore her as we walk into the den, and everyone looks up, greeting us with bright smiles.

"Melody!Happy Birthday, honey!"My mother jumps up and almost rushes over to us where she pulls Melody in for a hug. I haven't asked, but she acts like Melody's her favorite out of all of us, almost always managing to get to Melody before her own mother does. I stand next to her while everyone comes up and takes turns giving her a hug and their congratulations.

When Hendrix walks up, he gives me a look while he's bent down hugging her, and I roll my eyes.

"Study,"he says.

Before he even gets the last syllable out I'm already headed that way, giving my dad a back clap on the back en-route to the study. Walking past the side table laden down with presents, I step through the heavy ornate oak door and meander over to the drinks cart next to the roaring fireplace.

I'm busy making the both of us a drink when Hendrix steps in.