––––––––

The last week of Uni came around swift, and just like that, we were into summer. Sophie, Jake and I were on the same Sports and Social Sciences degree course - it was where we’d met her - and we had a lot of classes together. Sophie’s major was dance, and she was bloody good at it.

Sophie was still at the Loft. The few nights to lay her head had turned into almost two months with no sign of her leaving. Jake and I were having none of it. Her brother had not come banging down the door like I’d thought he would, and Sophie relaxed further with each passing day. We did clear the dining room and often Jake and I would sit with our backs to the wall and watch as she danced her heart out. She was a natural, preferring edgy pieces instead of the ballet she was trained in, she merged them both in such a way it was mesmerising to watch her. She had a dream to open a dance studio when Uni finished the year after. I wasn’t going to let her fail.

I often caught Jake starry eyed when he watched Sophie, he smiled more, let his guard down around her. I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Jake was falling in love with her a little. Not sure how I felt about it, I didn’t let the thought take root. He’d not had anyone back to the flat, even shirked Suzie’s advances when he saw her around classes. It kind of solidified he had a growing attraction toward Sophie, he couldn’t hide it as well as he thought he could, not from me.

We’d never set foot over the door for a night out drinking since Sophie had come to stay. We were happy in our own little bubble, just the three of us. Sophie went to the cinema or out for food with Jake or me often, sometimes together, sometimes not. It was all the social life we had, and surprisingly, it didn’t feel weird. We’d been down to Beaufort once or twice, for a night or two, but that was as far as we went. I enjoyed how peaceful I was with the domesticity we’d unconsciously fallen into, and none of us cared what it looked like to others.

My last quarter assignment was spread over the kitchen island, my head jammed in books, when the door buzzer went. I wasn’t expecting anyone, Sophie and Jake were at the pictures, taking a break from studying. Instead of ignoring the noise like I normally would, curiosity got the better of me.

Picking up the intercom, I asked who it was. “Umm...Sophie’s brother. Can I come up?”

There were no hard feelings as far as I was concerned so I didn’t understand his appearance. Sophie and Shaun talked on the phone often, things were okay between them, and he’d never pushed for her to go back home. His presence at the flat was strange.

“She’s not here.”

“I know. Can I just talk to you for a moment?”

Buzzing him in, I vaguely wondered what harm would it do? Being somewhat apprehensive, I reached for the cricket bat in the front closet. Her brother was a force to be reckoned with on a good day as far as I was aware, if he was here for trouble - it was best to be prepared. He hadn’t sounded pissed off, still, the cricket bat hitched over my shoulder gave me some reassurance when the knock came at the door and I swung it wide.

Gawking at the guy standing in the doorway whilst he eyed the cricket bat on my shoulder, he held his hands in the air. Hands that had touched me all those months ago in the bathroom of my dad’s club.

“You!”

“Me.”

His grin was disarming, his eyes shining with mischief. Fuck, he was stunning, I didn’t think I’d ever seen anyone as arresting as he was. I relaxed, knowing instantly he hadn’t come for trouble.

“You’re Sophie’s brother?” I asked in disbelief.

“The one and only. Don’t believe everything she tells you about me.”

Shoving the bat back into the closet, I mumbled over my shoulder. “She said you were a pussy cat. Come in.”

He laughed loudly as he followed me through to the kitchen. Gathering up my Uni papers, stacking them together, I shoved them off to the side. “How’s she doing? Her dancing, I mean.”

“Good. We cleared out our dining room, she has space.” I leant against the furthest counter and studied my feet, his eyes too unnerving to meet as they travelled the length of my body then flitted around the kitchen, as if embarrassed at being caught ogling. I didn’t care, he could look all he wanted, didn’t mean he was going to get his hands on me again.

“She could only dance in the hall at the flat. There was no spare room.”

“What is it you want, Gripp?” Intentionally calling him by his street name, not caring for pleasantries, my voice held an edge. He was here for a reason and I wanted to know why so I could get him back out the door quickly. The guy put me on a back foot of uneasiness I didn’t like.

“I wanted to make sure she was okay. Still welcome here.” Without invitation, he pulled out a stool and sat. Not a short visit then seeing as he was making himself comfortable.

Reaching into the fridge for two beers, I asked, “a call wouldn’t suffice? You didn’t have to come here.”

“Okay, you got me.” He snorted, looking down at his tattooed fingers he’d spread across the island top. He had miles and miles of ink, I couldn’t hazard a guess as to where they stopped. “I wanted to see you.”

My hand stopped moving for the cold bottles and I swivelled on my feet to give him my full attention and scrutinise him, to see how much he was fucking around. “Me?” I asked naively. “Stop being a twat.”

“You didn’t call.”

No, no I hadn’t. In fact, I’d wiped his number. I wasn’t stupid, no matter how much he fit into the ‘ideal kind of guy for me’ bracket. What with that rough look he rocked so well, I’d often wondered how rough he’d get with me if we were alone. He was trouble in capital letters. Even my protesting dick hadn’t dimmed my sensibility when it came to him, and I’d unsuccessfully tried to shove him to the back of my mind. The thought of calling him for some hot action had left me cold all over so I’d dumped his number. He wasn’t a choice I could make and walk away from unscathed.

Going back into the fridge, I retrieved the two beers, then offered one as I sat across from him. “No, I didn’t.”

“Why is that, Ayden?”

“You know why.”

And now I knew exactly who he was, I was convinced I’d made the right decision, I could douse any residual longing with a bucket of freezing water. He was Sophie’s protective brother to boot. Never gonna happen. I’d dodged a bullet big time.

“You’re not even a little curious?” He reached for the bottle opener in the basket at the end of the island and popped the cap from his beer, taking a long swig, his eyes never leaving mine in obvious challenge.

“And what are you? Bi-curious?”

There was no way this guy was gay. All brawn and muscle and undeniable masculinity personified with those terrifying images etched onto his skin. He was not a warm and fluffy person by any means. Bring in the fact that he ran with a gang of whatever’s...it was social suicide.

Yeah, so not gay.

“I’ll give you that.” He pointed the neck of the bottle at me. “I am gay, in case you’re wondering. But being openly gay is not an option for me.”

“Clearly.” I noted.

I stared at him, the short, mousy hair a mess on his head only adding to the good looks he had going on, accentuating the dark tones swirling all over him. If I caught a glimpse of that tongue piercing I knew he had, my blood would spike. The marks on his face served their purpose too - plainly stating - do not touch. Yet, I almost found him irresistible. Almost. He didn’t really look like Sophie, it was no wonder I hadn’t realised the connection before.

So much for not being stupid.

“We have different mothers,” he said, as if reading my mind. “Both are dead. One overdosed. Mine. Hers vanished, took four years to find out she was a body that was fished from the Thames years before, along with another. Prostitutes.” There was no emotion in his voice, just facts, like he was reading them from a book and they held no bearing for him, like it wasn’t personal. “Sophie was six. Never knew her.”

His need to share puzzled me. I didn’t want to know, was none of my business, but it put a whole new slant on the way I perceived him. Jesus, maybe we were all just a little fucked up and doing the best we could to claw our way through life. Mine had been relatively easy so far, only my mother making life difficult when she saw fit to torment my dad.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I offered.

“You perhaps now see why she’s everything to me? Why I’m...over protective.”

I got that part, having bad history I think I would have been the same with a younger sibling, especially a sister. I was already that way with Sophie, though didn’t lean as heavy on her like he did. And Jake, I had his back like a brother should.

“Yeah...”

I had nothing to add. In fact, I had very little to say to the man sitting opposite me. All that was between us was some crazy, dangerous attraction that was not healthy for either one of us. There was no future past a dirty fuck with something forbidden for us both. Me - the clean cut, rich boy. Him - the bad boy, gang member. The awareness left me feeling empty.

“You want me to leave?”

Foolish thing was, I didn’t, not really. I had no words, but plenty of thoughts and all were X-rated, nothing clean about the images tumbling around my head where Gripp was concerned. Neither were they conversation starters. “Yeah. Maybe for the best, don’t you think? Sophie is fine, she can stay if she wants. There’s plenty space, and I like having her here.”

He downed the rest of his beer. “You’re right. I can see you’re not interested.” Standing, he smiled shyly at me and left the kitchen. I plonked my bottle down, darting after him, not wanting bad blood between us.

“Gripp...Shaun...” I called. He stopped and turned fully into me, too close for comfort, yet not close enough. “It’s not a clever idea. Not for either of us.”

Disappointment stretched across his face, but he lingered, searching my eyes then taking a step toward me, surging me back against the wall. “Something tells me though...” he said in a low, husky voice, staring intently at me, “...you’d be a hell of a fuck.”

This man was so forward and unapologetic I couldn’t be angry at his words. Oh yes, the thought of a round of hot sex with Gripp had my dick taking notice. It would be a hell of a fuck, not one I’d forget in a hurry. The way my body reacted to his didn’t tell any lies. I was hungry for him just as much as he was for me. Having not seen any action since Jake was probably why my impulsiveness kicked in when I reached out and grabbed the front of his jeans, the erection I knew would be there. I wasn’t disappointed when I felt him through the denim.

Growling at me, so far from a whimpered thing - a full on animalistic growl -  sent shivers racing over my entire body. A loud and rumbling moan hit my ears as his body crashed into mine and he trapped my hand between us, the subtle grind of hips sending all my common-sense scattering.

“You’re playing with fire, Ayden,” he said quietly.

I was, and I waited for him to scorch me. Those burn marks I’d wear with pride if I could get him under me.

“Do your worst,” I dared.

“You couldn’t handle me at my worst.”

“Watch me.”

The stand-off lasted all of two seconds before our mouths collided and the fire he promised seared me from the inside out. Flames of passion licked at me from all sides and I hoped he’d not leave me a charred mess once he’d taken his fill.

There wasn’t enough water in the world to quench my thirst, to douse these flames.