A Kiss Within Same Blood

Uhhhhhhhm,I yawned ,my mouth tasted like last night’s cheap bourbon mixed with bad decisions and the faint metallic tang of guilt.

I took my phone,to see why it beeped,the screen glowed brighter than it should have,but why would Tonia chat me up early this morning,I murmured.

Tonia: I saw the messages, the pics, the hotel charges you thought hiding in that stupid “Business Expenses” Google Drive folder would work. You’re disgusting, Richy. We’re done. Don’t ever contact me again.

No crying emojis. No long paragraph of heartbreak. Just clean, surgical slices.

I stared at it for maybe ten seconds. Part of me wanted to type back something cocky“Your loss, babe” or “Cry me a river”but the other part, the tired part, felt… nothing. Not even anger,just a hollow echo where feelings should have been.

I thumbed the block button,her contact picture,a selfie from last month at Piedmont Park vanished. Done.

Who cares…

I tossed my phone and rolled out of bed, boxers half-twisted, morning wood still complaining about the lack of follow-through. I padded barefoot across the hardwood, scratched my stomach, and shoved the bedroom door open.

The living room looked like a bomb went off. Empty Solo cups, a pizza box with one grease-stained slice left, throw pillows on the floor. Normal Monday,except it wasn’t.

I heard voices, laughter and the clink of coffee mugs.I froze mid-step.

Shit…., it's the Reunion day,every year, same drill, Mom turns the house into a bed and breakfast for distant cousins, second aunts, people I barely remember. They show up unannounced, stay too long, ask why I’m still “figuring things out” at twenty-six. I usually hide in my room with headphones until they leave. But today I’d forgotten the date. Completely.

I was standing there in nothing but black boxer briefs,my hair was a disaster, when the front door swung wider and Aunt Ruby walked in.

She stopped,just for a second.

Ruby was thirty-nine,or maybe forty, but she carried it like thirty. Dark hair pulled into a loose knot, red lipstick that looked freshly applied, white sundress hugging every dangerous curve. The kind of body that made church dresses feel sinful. She had one arm looped through a giant tote bag, the other holding a foil-covered casserole dish. Her eyes flicked down my chest, lingered on the waistband of my boxers, then came back up to meet mine.

Heat hit the back of my neck.

“Morning, Richy,” she said. Voice low, amused, like she’d caught me doing something I wasn’t supposed to enjoy. “Nice… outfit.”

I smirked because that’s what I do when I’m caught. “Didn’t know we were doing a fashion show this early.”

She laughed,soft, throaty,and stepped past me into the kitchen like she owned the place. Which, in a way, she kind of did, she’d been coming here longer than I’d been alive.

I followed, mostly because my feet moved before my brain caught up.

The living room was already half-full. Mom,Annie, was setting out plates, smiling too wide at everyone. She looked tired around the eyes, the way she always did when Dad was in the room. Humphrey stood by the sliding glass doors, arms crossed, grumbling something about the traffic on I-95. He hadn’t shaved,probably hadn’t since Friday.

Then there were the twins. Susan and Lilly,not actual twins, just born eleven months apart, but they dressed like they were trying to confuse people, matching ripped jeans, cropped black tops, dark eyeliner, identical smirks. Susan leaned against the counter scrolling her phone; Lilly was already raiding the fridge like she lived here. They both glanced up when I walked in, then did the slow once-over thing girls do when they know you’re looking back.

“Nice legs, cousin,” Lilly said without looking away from the orange juice carton.

“Nice everything,” Susan added, quieter.

I shot them a grin. “Careful. I bite.”

They rolled their eyes in perfect sync.

Ruby set the casserole on the counter and peeled back the foil. Lasagna. The good kind, with extra cheese,she caught me staring,not at the food and raised one perfect eyebrow.

Thirsty? she asked.

I swallowed. Parched.

She poured me a glass of water from the pitcher, and handed it over. Our fingers brushed.it wasn't an accident,her skin was warm. I drank half the glass in one go just to have something to do with my mouth.

Mom finally noticed me. “Richy! Go put some clothes on, honey,people are arriving.”

“People are already here,” I said, gesturing at the room.

Humphrey snorted. “Boy’s got a point.”

Annie shot him a look,the kind that said not in front of everyone,and then turned back to me with that soft, pleading smile she used when she wanted me to behave. “Please?”

I sighed, theatrical. “Fine, but only because you asked nicely.”

I headed back toward the hallway, feeling eyes on my back. Ruby’s, definitely, maybe the twins’,maybe even Mom’s, though she’d never admit it.

In my room I yanked on gray sweatpants and a faded black tee,no underwear. I mean, why bother? I ran a hand through my hair, called it good enough, and went back out.

The energy had shifted while I was gone. Everyone was talking at once now,cousins I didn’t recognize, an uncle complaining about gas prices, Aunt Ruby laughing at something Humphrey said. But the laugh didn’t reach her eyes.

She was standing by the window, arms crossed under her chest, pushing everything up in a way that should’ve been illegal. Robbinson,her husband, my uncle by marriage,was on his phone in the corner, typing furiously,he hadn’t looked up once since they arrived. Typical.

Ruby caught me watching her again,but this time she didn’t smile,she just held my gaze,long and steady,like she was daring me to look away first.

I didn’t.

She tilted her head slightly, lips parting just enough to show a hint of teeth. Then she turned back to the conversation like nothing happened.

My pulse was loud in my ears.

Breakfast got underway,platters of scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, fruit nobody touched, I sat across from Ruby because the chair was open and because I’m an idiot. Our knees brushed under the table once,twice,and she didn’t move away.

“So, Richy,” Robbinson finally spoke, still half-looking at his phone. “Still bouncing between jobs?”

I speared a piece of bacon. “Still bouncing between paychecks, yeah.”

He chuckled like I’d told a joke. “Gotta settle down sometime, kid.” Ruby’s foot nudged mine under the table. Deliberate.

“Some people settle too soon,” she said lightly, eyes on her plate.Robbinson didn’t catch the edge in her voice. Humphrey did. He grunted, took a long sip of coffee.

Annie kept the conversation moving,Safe topics: weather, the new grocery store on Route 7, how big the kids were getting. Susan and Lilly answered in monosyllables, texting under the table. Every now and then one of them would glance at Humphrey, then away fast.

Something was off there. I couldn’t place it yet.

Ruby leaned forward to reach for the syrup,her dress slipped a fraction, showing more cleavage than necessary,she didn’t fix it right away.

I stared.I just couldn’t help it, and I can tell S

she noticed,of course she did.

When she sat back, she brushed her hair behind her ear and looked straight at me, no smile this time,just heat,raw,and unapologetic.

My mouth went dry,Mom started clearing plates. “Everyone help yourselves in seconds,there’s plenty.”

Ruby stood to help. As she passed behind my chair, her hand grazed my shoulder,her fingers lingered a second too long,I felt it in my spine.

The rest of the morning blurred,more small talk, forced laughter, kids running through the house, someone turning on music nobody asked for. I kept finding excuses to be near her,refilling her coffee,passing her the creamer,and asking stupid questions about the casserole recipe I didn’t care about.

Each time, she answered like it was the most interesting thing she’d heard all week.

By noon the house was loud, chaotic, full of people pretending everything was fine. Annie and Humphrey barely spoke to each other,Robbinson was still on his phone, Susan and Lilly disappeared upstairs with whispered giggles. Ruby stayed close to the kitchen, rinsing dishes, hips swaying when she thought no one was looking.

I was looking,she dried her hands on a towel, turned, and caught me again,this time she didn’t look away,she walked over, slow, like she had all the time in the world.

“Help me grab the extra chairs from the garage?” she asked.I nodded. I didn't trust myself to speak.

We stepped outside,the garage door rattled up,and cool air hit my skin.

Inside, shadows. Boxes. Old tools. Her perfume.

She closed the distance between us before I could pretend I was looking for chairs.“Richy,” she said. Quiet and dangerous.

I looked down at her, Dayuuuum those lips, those eyes,and that body I’d been trying not to think about since the second she walked in.

“Yeah?”

She reached up, brushed a nonexistent piece of lint off my shirt,her fingers stayed on my chest.

“You’ve grown up,” she murmured.

My heart slammed against my ribs,she stepped closer, close enough I could feel her breath on my neck,then she smiled,small, wicked and stepped back.

“Grab those chairs,” she said, turning away like nothing happened. “We don’t want anyone getting suspicious.”

I stood there, hard as hell, breathing like I’d run a mile.

She walked back inside first, swinging her gorgeous hip.I waited thirty seconds, adjusted myself, grabbed the stupid chairs, and followed.

Back in the house, everyone was laughing again, plates clinked,and someone turned up the music.

But under it all, something had shifted,I could feel it.,I guess Ruby felt it too,and neither of us was going to pretend otherwise.