Authors: Ilsa Madden-Mills
“Yeah, I noticed.”
She smiled. “Your turn.”
I hesitated, surprised that I wanted to tell her about my
parents. I’m not the kind of guy who just opens up to girls, especially one I
barely knew. “You were right about my parents,” I told her anyway. “They’re
dead, killed in a carjacking right outside our house. We didn’t live in the
best neighborhood. They were shot point blank in the head by a druggie looking
to fund his next fix. So at eighteen, I got a kid, a house, and an old gym.
Shit that had taken my parents a lifetime to accumulate.” I sighed. “Sorry,
guess I forgot we were supposed to tell happy stories.”
“You loved them,” she said with a bit of what sounded like
wonder in her voice.
“Yeah. We never had much, but . . . yeah,” I said, picking
at the blue bedding. “My dad taught me to play guitar, but after they died, I
gave up being a musician.”
“Because of Sebastian?”
“Yeah. The road’s no place for a kid. Sebastian’s all I got
now.”
“You were practically a kid yourself,” she said, squeezing
our still clasped hands. “Do you miss music?”
I nodded. “We had a band in LA, and I started one here, too.
But this gym was my dad’s dream and now it’s mine. It does well and I like it,
but music is my first love.”
We faced each other on our pillows. “Sebastian’s lucky to
have you,” she said, her green eyes searching my face. I gazed back, and I
think for a second, my heart may have skipped a beat. She
was
fucking
beautiful. I’d been dead wrong at the open house when I’d thought she wasn’t.
Her beauty was real and fresh, not manufactured by tanning beds or a plastic
surgeon like some of the girls I’d dated. Still dated.
A lock of her sun-bleached hair fell over her eyes, and I reached
over and smoothed it out of her face, not wanting to stop looking into her
glittering eyes. I let my hand drift down her cheek, and my fingers didn’t want
to leave her skin. As my hand fell away, I caught the scent of peaches, and it
smelled good and sweet. I couldn’t stop myself from leaning in and inhaling
deeper. God, I loved peaches. The sticky juice, the tart taste, the firm
texture against my tongue.
Fuck.
This was so wrong.
I lay back down and blew out a deep breath that I think I’d
been holding since the first moment I’d realized who she was outside.
She sighed. “Leo, I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. For
everything.”
“Even the strip tease?” I joked.
She nodded.
“Was that the first time you’ve ever, you know, stripped for
a guy?” I said. “I mean, shit, never mind. That’s none of my business.”
“I’ve never done
anything
like that in my whole life.
You were the first,” she whispered.
And I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the blood rush to my
groin at those words. It was wrong, but I wanted to be her fucking first in
everything. I moved a bit further from her, until I was practically on the edge
of the bed.
“That’s not really you is it?” I finally said, getting
myself under control.
“I don’t know who I am anymore,” she said with a sad smile.
“Tell me about your family.”
“Sometimes I dream my family is dead,” she said, “and it’s
not a nightmare.”
“What happened to you?” I said, remembering her mother.
She drew up, like she was protecting herself. “I think it’s
your turn to tell me a story, Leo.”
“I know you’re hiding something,” I whispered, squeezing her
hand. “You said everyone has secrets. What are you hiding?”
Her face hardened. “Nothing.”
I wanted to question her more. I wanted to know what made
her tick, why she was scared of her parents, and why she’d written that list,
but I sensed she’d had enough for one night. So I ended up telling her the
story of how my mom had played on a quiz show in LA and won a family trip to
England. No one knew that story but me and Sebastian, yet I found myself describing
all the touristy places we’d visited and how Stonehenge had been my favorite. I
told her how awed I’d been at those vast chunks of rock that have stood for
thousands of years and how no one knows how they got there or what they were
used for. I chuckled as I told her how, when we’d gotten back, Mom had insisted
we call her
Mum
. So, of course, we did.
After a while, I glanced over, and she was asleep. I didn’t
know much about her, but I did know one thing: she was the first girl to ever
show up uninvited at my house and get an invitation to spend the night, much
less to have breakfast in the morning.
MY EYES POPPED opened automatically
at 6:00 a.m. on the dot, the time I normally take a quick run in the park.
Thankfully, I woke up completely clothed, on top of the covers, and still a
respectable distance from Nora. There had been no kissing, no cuddling, no sex.
Nothing. Nada. Just a bit of hand holding, that’s all.
But, here’s the rub. I’ve never in my life slept the entire
night with a girl. It was an unwritten rule to be gone before sunrise. So yeah,
this waking up next to someone was strange.
She was still asleep, so I propped up on my elbow, leaned
over, and inhaled her scent one more time, committing it to memory. I truly
intended to leave, but I found myself staring at her, seeing how her dark
lashes contrasted with her hair and skin. And her lips. They were full and
erotic looking, and I wanted to— I jerked back away from her. I had to get out
of here before I did something I regretted. Giving her one last lingering look,
I told myself this would be the last time I saw Nora in a bed.
Ever.
I disentangled our hands, severing our connection, and got
out of bed.
I made my escape just as Sebastian came out of his room,
dressed in running clothes.
His eyes grew, and he shook his head. “What the fuck, Leo?
Did checking on her take all night? She’s not one of your sluts.”
I sighed. “Relax. It’s not what you think.”
“Then what is it?” he said, cocking his head.
“We started talking and I . . . I guess, I fell asleep.
Nothing happened.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Huh, guess that’s a first for you.”
I shrugged and made to go into my bedroom when he touched my
arm to get my attention. “Hey, man. Don’t be hurting her, okay. Don’t add to
her problems.”
“I’m trying not to,” I said curtly, striding into my room.
When I was alone, I sat down on my bed, wondering when my
little brother had gotten so perceptive.
BY 9:00 a.m. THE smells of bacon and
coffee were in the air when she wandered into the kitchen wearing baggy blue
sweat pants and Sebastian’s old Dallas Cowboys shirt that somehow managed to
cling to her breasts, despite being too big for her. It irked me seeing her in
his clothes.
She yawned and then glanced at me sheepishly, and I wanted
to ask her how she’d slept, but instead I poured her a cup of coffee and
avoided her eyes.
“Cream and sugar?” I asked her.
She smiled shyly and nodded.
“Both are on the island,” I said, handing her the cup, her
fingers brushing mine as she took it. She poured in a liberal dose of cream and
sugar and drank. After a few sips she spoke, her voice husky with sleep,
“Thanks for staying with me.”
Sebastian saved me from replying when he walked in.
“Breakfast time,” he called out with a grin. He stopped and took in Nora, and I
imagined his eyes were admiring the same view I had tried not to. “Hey, there.
Not sure if you remember, but I’m Sebastian, Leo’s brother,” he said, gesturing
at himself. I couldn’t help but notice that he’d showered, shaved, and put on
nice clothes. Not his usual weekend lounging clothes. Was he trying to impress
her?
She blushed. “I’m sorry for imposing on you guys this
morning.”
“Pretty girl like you? You’re always welcome,” he said,
moving in to stand next to her.
She drank her coffee, peering at him over the rim, and it
made me remember how she’d analyzed me. I wondered what observations she’d come
to about Sebastian. She’d probably like him. All the girls did. And he already
thought she was hot. It pissed me off to imagine them being attracted to each
other. Surprised at the feeling, I paused right in the middle of flipping the
French toast.
What the fuck? Was I jealous of my
brother
?
After breakfast was ready, I stayed silent while Sebastian
jumped into being the perfect host, making her a plate piled high with toast,
strawberries, and bacon. He gave her silverware and a napkin and then poured
her orange juice. He even pulled the stool out for her.
I’d never seen him so solicitous.
Finally, he stopped hovering and sat down beside her. As he
ate, he kept shooting her little smirks, and she’d grin back. When she ran out
of bacon, he jumped up to get her more. And as he sat back down, I noticed that
he scooted his seat a bit closer to hers. He leaned down and whispered
something in her ear, and I slammed my coffee down hard, splashing most of it
all over the bar.
“Okay, bro?” he asked, his eyebrow cocked.
My mouth tightened
.
“Fine. Just fine,” I said,
getting up to grab some paper towels. I wiped up the mess, angry at myself for
losing control. For wanting what I couldn’t have.
“I like your tattoos,” she said after I sat back down, her
eyes flicking over me. “I didn’t see this one last night,” she said, pointing
at the writing I had wrapped around my left wrist. “Rachel and Joel,” she read
quietly. “Your parents’ names, right?”
“Yes,” I said.
She bit her lip and gave me a cute smile. “Can I see the
dragon on your chest again? It’s incredible.”
I faltered, thinking how ridiculous it’d be to take my tank
off in the kitchen, but I couldn’t say no to her. At that moment, I would have
done anything to make her smile like that again.
“I’ve got more on my back,” I said, taking off my tank and
showing her where I had Sebastian’s name and birth date written on my left
shoulder blade. “Sebastian Tyler Tate,” she recited.
When I faced her, she studied the dragon that lay across my
heart, making my pulse kick up.
“He’s gorgeous,” she said, staring at the large tat for so
long I began to feel hot. She finally looked up at me and said, “His eyes are
blue just like yours. And he’s fierce and breathing fire, yet he doesn’t
seem scary to me.”
I nodded, pleased at her words. “Yeah, he’s an eastern
dragon, the ones with the snake-like bodies. His colors symbolize courage and
protection of loved ones.”
“I like it,” she murmured, and I pictured her touching it,
caressing the green scales, licking the red flames . . .
“You interested in getting a tat?” Sebastian asked her,
pulling her attention away from me and yanking me back to the present.
She shrugged. “My friend Mila and I are going to check out
this new place a couple of blocks over today. You can come with if you want,”
she said, looking at both of us.
I shook my head and took a deep breath. Here it was. My
chance to make sure she knew where I stood with her. “Nope, got a date with someone
at the park,” I said, picking my shirt back up and slipping it on.
Sebastian scowled. “Tiffany?”
“Just eat, Sebastian.”
He huffed and murmured out something, but I couldn’t
understand it, which was probably just as well. Tiffany was not his favorite
person.
“Who’s Tiffany?” Nora asked.
“A girl I’m seeing,” I told her, holding her gaze and
keeping my face cool. I had to set her straight, and if exaggerating about my
relationship with Tiffany was the way to do it, then I would.
She stared down at her plate. “Oh.”
She seemed disappointed, but it had to be done. But then I
remembered her list where she’d written about having meaningless sex. Was she
really going to screw any guy she could? And now that I had told her no, would
she go for Sebastian? I glared at them both, imagining her taking her clothes
off for
him
.