Twin Ties 1: My Brother's Lover (5 page)

“Just returning your shirt,” Alek explained, unable to stop staring. He stood towering over the younger man and felt a rush of blood surge to his dick because...
Jesus
. It wasn’t just that he was hot; it was the air about him of seeming wholly untouched and unspoiled. The lure of possibly getting to seduce again someone who hadn’t already seen and done it all was too powerful to resist.

Someone called from the front office, “Evan, you okay over there, buddy?”

The kid—Evan—replied, raising his voice, “Yeah! I got this one!”

Alek handed over the shirt. Evan took it, blushing. The sight of that blush made Alek’s mouth water, wanting to lick every inch of the rapidly heating skin. He shoved a hand into his front pocket to help conceal his growing hard-on. When Evan’s eyes went right there at the gesture, and fixed on Alek’s crotch for a beat, Alek’s lips twisted up in a small, victorious smile.

“That’s your name, huh?
Evan
. I like it.”

Evan frowned, nervously scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, I can’t do this here. You have to leave.”

Alek searched for an excuse to pull sweet, pretty, fuckable Evan aside. “My truck’s been acting up, won’t start on the first try. Maybe you could look at it for me? I’d really appreciate it,
Evan.
”

“Fuck,” Evan groaned under his breath. There were a couple of men watching them curiously from the office. “Yeah, c’mon.”

He led the way, hot-footing it out of the garage with Alek on his heels. Alek jogged to catch up and pointed to his black truck.

“’Kay. Um. Open her up,” Evan muttered, tucking the shirt in his back pocket like he’d done the previous night.

Alek repressed a smile, reached into the truck and popped the hood. There was nothing wrong with the truck, and he suspected Evan knew it.

Evan planted his hands on the frame and leaned over the engine. “Start ’er up for me.”

“Why?” Alek asked with a glimmer in his eye.

Evan flushed a darker pink under countless faded freckles—each one of which Alek wanted to trace with the tip of his tongue—and hissed, “Because my boss is watching.”

Chuckling, Alek sat behind the wheel and turned the key. The engine came to life right away. Getting back out of the vehicle, he went around to where Evan was hunched over, his toned arms flexed. Alek’s gaze slipped down the gentle curve of Evan’s back leading from strong, broad shoulders to where his spine dipped to his narrow, tapered waist and hips. He was all muscle, put on from hard work, not the gym, and he was gleaming with a slight sheen of sweat.

“Damn, I bet you look fantastic naked,” Alek rasped, leaning against the truck.

Evan pretended to ignore the comment, but Alek was pretty sure Evan was hunched over the engine for more than one reason. He glanced down at the bulge in Evan’s jeans and fought not to just start humping his ass right there like a dog in heat. “What are you doing here?”

“I want to see you again. Soon.”

Evan bit his lower lip. He wouldn’t look up at Alek’s face; wariness taking over, like Evan was suddenly in wildly unfamiliar territory. He leaned farther over, fiddling with things in the truck as they talked.

Finally, Evan sighed, “How soon?”

“When’s your lunch break?”

Evan hesitated, so Alek pushed on, lowering his voice and letting all of his growing, dark, simmering lust seep into every word. “C’mon, Jailbait. I just wanna suck you...
everywhere
... and then, you know, we could go get coffee or a couple of steaks or something.”

“I’m pretty sure the fucking comes
after
dinner on dates usually,” Evan retorted, swallowing thickly and shooting a sideways glance back to the building.

“Not when you’re this hot,” Alek grinned, predatory and determined as a shark surging in for the kill. “Look, I’m not the kind of guy that messes around like this. I swear. Last night it was right after my shift and when I saw you, I had to go for it. But I’m here now because I want more than one night with you. I want to get to know you.”

“No, you don’t. You’re just sticking around until I put out, then you’ll be gone.”

“Try me. You got a
last
name, Evan? And how about that phone number?”

Evan cursed under his breath and straightened. Alek got out of the way and Evan slammed the hood shut.

“Okay, first off, you can’t come to my work like this. Ever.”

“Okay,” Alek nodded. “I get it. You’re trying to pass. I still want to see you later.”

Evan’s eyes slipped shut. Alek got the feeling like maybe if they weren’t being watched, or if he had parked around the corner instead of out front, it would be a whole different story—that Evan would open for him like a flower and the tough-guy act would disappear.

“Goddamn you’re persistent. Fine. You know Cedar Mill Road? Out on Route 73? Follow it until the asphalt turns to gravel. I’ll meet you there. Five o’clock.”

Alek smiled, his deep dimples perfectly framing his mouth.

Evan cleared his throat, “I’ve gotta get back to work but, um, you got a last name, Alek?”

“Popovic.” When Evan cocked an eyebrow at him, Alek explained, “It’s Russian. You?”

Evan threw him a sly, sexy twist of a grin and turned back toward the garage, letting Alek stare at his ass as he walked away. “Savage.”

“Evan
Savage
. How appropriate, since I’m pretty sure you’re gonna be the death of me.”

Evan laughed, “Dude. That was
so
cheesy.” His jeans, loose and low, hung on the top swell of his ass. The muscle there shifted with every step and Alek was too hypnotized by the sight to think of a comeback. His retort turned into a low moan. He checked his watch once Evan was gone from sight, counting the hours until five.

Brennan got through his morning routine just fine. He meditated for a full hour, trying to release some of the torrent of emotion and tension inside him. The weird blend of excitement and fear caused by the drastic shifts the course his life had taken left him feeling restless and un-tethered. He did yoga too, but it wasn’t enough. After making a smoothie out of an assortment of vegetables and fruit, using the blender he brought from home since Evan didn’t appear to have any sort of useful kitchen appliances, Brennan strolled through the small house, getting a feel for the place.

There were a couple of messages on his phone when he woke up—from Tommy and Charlie. He hadn’t wanted to listen to either of them. Tommy, his ex, was the past. It was over, and Brennan appreciated that Tommy still cared enough to check on him, but he couldn’t go backward anymore. He needed to move on. And Charlie....

Brennan sighed, thinking of his biological father, the mastermind behind the current state of affairs. Charlie had orchestrated the move, wanting to bring his sons together at last. He had asked Brennan to move in with Evan, offering Brennan the chance to finally get to know his twin and have a place to live at the same time without having to worry about Charlie being there to butt in very often. It was a tempting offer, and one Brennan couldn’t refuse. The opportunity to get to know Evan seemed priceless, but Brennan still resented the hell out of Charlie. Charlie was a stranger. He was the guy who never bothered to visit or call for Brennan’s entire life. His meager attempts at kindness were too little, too late.

Sometimes the sheer, sudden absence of responsibility Brennan now enjoyed raised his spirits. The possibilities seemed endless after having assumed the role of caretaker at such a young age. Now he was free of all of that, but what was he left with? Not much, it seemed. The pain drew him down. His heart ached with such loss and grief that it more than overwhelmed him most of the time. All Brennan wanted was to see his mom once more, and it was never going to happen. She was really gone. He told himself she was in a better place, that she wasn’t in pain anymore—no more chemo, no more doctors or hospice. She was free. But he was only eighteen after all, and being on his own,
really
on his own, was a reality so suffocating, Brennan didn’t know how to claw his way out.

The bedroom was tempting. He could just go back in there and keep on crying and feeling sorry for himself. It would be so easy. Instead, he wandered into Evan’s room and sat on the bed.

The room was sparse. Besides some battered concert posters and postcards tacked to the wall, there wasn’t much in the way of decoration. A few framed four by six photos lined the one shelf—pictures of Evan as a child, hunting with his dad. Or, rather,
their
dad.

Brennan lay down with his head on the pillow, curling up and trying to imagine growing up there, how it would have changed who he was to be raised by a father rather than a mother. It was too hard to manage. He couldn’t make the mental leap. He’d never had a father, so he couldn’t begin to imagine what it would have been like. Then, he realized, not for the first time, that Evan never even got to meet their mother, and ached for Evan; he never got to know her, the angel of Brennan’s life.

A tear slipped down his cheek and he angrily wiped it away. Staring at one of the faded, glossy photos of father and son, Brennan asked the empty room, “Why’d you do it? How could you do this to us? We should have been a
family
instead of torn in half.”

Before he got to Whippoorwill, he thought it was no question that he’d had the rougher deal, having to nurse Maggie on her deathbed, but after seeing Evan, Brennan realized maybe it wasn’t true. Alone in this dark, empty house, with such shadowy emptiness hiding behind his eyes, Evan struck Brennan as a wounded soul from the moment they were face-to-face at last. And Evan seemed like a stranger. Expecting something from the meeting—recognition, revelation—there had been nothing, only fascination and a sad sense that there was going to be very little the twins would have in common with each other. Evan was a man’s man—tough, strong and fearless. Brennan felt like none of those things. He felt only left behind, shattered and terrified.

Maybe he should have called Tommy back. Maybe he should have listened to Charlie’s message.

He didn’t do either.

Restless energy and cabin fever were the only things he could identify in the churning of his thoughts. So, he grabbed his laptop and looked up the nearest yoga studio. The closest one was a few towns away. He didn’t have a car, so he decided to borrow Evan’s and fill up the gas tank in the old Chevy as payment for the loan. Yoga clothes in hand, not bothering to check a mirror before he went, knowing he’d see only his sunken, baggy eyes and bitterness, Brennan headed out into the sunshine all too aware of the storm cloud following along over him.

Presley and Luka leaned casually against the end machine in a long line of ellipticals on the ground floor of Sweat gym. It was mid-day. Presley’s shift was winding down while Luka’s was just getting started. It was a slow time of day—right between the lunch rush and the after-work surge.

“What the
hell
were you doing to that poor woman last night, man?” Presley asked. “I had half a mind to come up there and save her or something with all the hollering goin’ on. I mean,
damn
.”

Luka rolled his eyes and he couldn’t help but grin.

Presley
tsk
ed at him.

“It was just Jackie. She was in the neighborhood. You know.”

“‘The neighborhood’ my ass. You two might as well be dating again with how much time she spends in your bed.” Presley folded his muscular arms over his broad chest, watching a man a few feet away struggle with a loaded leg-press.

“Oh,” Luka chuckled. “I see.
You’re
gonna start lecturing
me
on spending too much time in bed with people I’m not dating? That’s just not ironic at
all
.”

Luka’s expression lost its amusement as he pondered Jackie. His levity drained steadily away until all that remained was an unhappy pout. “No. Last night was it. I’m done. Shit with her is getting
way
too complicated. She’s starting to think there’s a chance for us. Hell, I apologized to her this morning, you know. Told her I was a jackass for using her like I did, when there was no way it could ever work between us.”

“Yeah. Then you kicked her ass out. Didn’cha?”

“Whatever.”

Presley
tsk
ed again.

“Stop that,” Luka scowled.

“
Boundaries
, Luka. Say it with me.
Boundaries
. You gotta set rules and then not break them, no matter how horny you are.”

“Easier said than done,” Luka muttered quietly.

“No shit. You, of all people, have crossed some
major
fucking boundaries. Haven’t you learned your lesson yet? There are some people you cannot fuck. Can-
not
.”

“Prude. Just because our particular society currently frowns upon certain predilections doesn’t change how people feel. And it doesn’t make them bad people for feeling that way.”

“Okay. Then how about, to start with, you pick a gender and stick to it. Women, men. I’m tellin’ you, though, women are
not
worth the effort sometimes. No matter how good the pussy is. They start talking about commitment and
babies
.”