Rachel doesn’t make it over after her dinner, and I slip into bed a little after eleven, spent from the emotional conversation with Mark. I managed to fend off my mom’s incessant grilling about the new boy in my life, instead getting her to talk about my aunt and my cousins. She can go on a bender when I get her started, so I faked listening while I continued to sort through my very confusing feelings for two men who happen to be brothers.
I text Brian to say goodnight, and my phone tells me he’s calling a minute later.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Hi.”
“How has your day been?”
“Busy. I’m coming home tomorrow.”
“You are?”
“Yeah. I miss you.”
My heart ripples with some mixture of excitement and fear.
I shouldn’t fear seeing the guy I’m dating, but things have been weird between us since I asked him about his ex. Oh, and I kissed his brother while he was out of town.
The guilt I’d easily pushed away with the old cliché out of sight, out of mind pours back over me.
“I miss you, too,” I say automatically. I do. I’m just not sure how much.
“I can’t wait to hold you in my arms, to kiss you…to fuck you.” His voice slurs a little on the s sound in the word kiss, and I realize he’s a little drunk. In the fairly short span of time we’ve been together, I’ve never seen him drunk.
“What are you going to do to me?” I ask.
“Mm,” he moans, and a jolt of lust spears my stomach. “I’m going to make up for lost time.”
I giggle. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re gonna be walking funny for a few days.”
I don’t doubt it. I try to brush away the sinking feeling that I can’t quite identify in the pit of my stomach.
“I’m…uh…in Phoenix right now.”
“You are? Why?”
“I came home to visit my family.”
“I get in at five tomorrow. Go back to Vegas.”
“I want to, but I just got here today. I haven’t even seen my sister yet.”
“Invite her to Vegas, then. I need to see you.”
The rasp in his voice is pretty damn convincing. I have all this pent-up sexual energy, and my boyfriend seems like the right person to be the recipient of it.
“Fine. I’ll head home after lunch.”
“Come straight to my place.”
Mark’s place, you mean? “Are you sure?”
He’s never willingly invited me to his place knowing his brother might be around.
“Yeah. I miss being home, you know? Sleeping in my own bed. I need to unpack and get some work done, anyway.”
“Okay. I’ll text you when I’m on my way. Fly safe and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait.”
We hang up without another sign of affection—no I miss you or I love you.
I fall into a sleep filled with strange, confused dreams. In one scenario, I’m with Brian, and in the next, I’m with Mark. It feels like my subconscious is trying to tell me something—trying to warn me of some impending doom, but I can’t quite decipher the real meaning.
I wake feeling guilty, horny, and hungry when the smell of bacon wafts to my nose. I don’t do anything to alleviate the horny situation, though, because Brian will be there to take care of my needs tonight.
I do, however, head down for some of that bacon after a quick shower, and I find my dad in the kitchen flipping pancakes as bacon sizzles and pops in another pan. “You smell the bacon?” he asks.
I grin. “You know it.”
“That’s my girl.”
I pour a couple of glasses of orange juice and then I hear a knock at the front door. My forehead wrinkles in confusion as I look at my dad, but he just smiles.
I go to get the door, and when I see who’s standing on the other side, my face breaks out into a wide smile. I throw my arms around my sister. “Rachel!” I squeal.
She giggles. “Reese!”
“What are you doing here?”
“Dad invited me to breakfast since I missed out on dinner. I can’t stay long because I have to get to work, but I thought a family breakfast sounded fun.”
“It’s so good to see you!”
“You, too,” she says, squeezing my arm.
We walk toward the kitchen. “You should come visit me soon.”
“You know what, I have a flex holiday I need to use in the next two months or I lose it.”
“Yes! Come stay with me.”
“And meet the boyfriend?”
“You couldn’t keep your mouth shut, by the way?” I glare at her, and her brows draw in.
“What?”
“You told Mom?”
She giggles. “Of course I did. She was badgering me for Reese news.”
“Who was badgering you for Reese news?” my mom asks.
“You,” we say together. Rachel and I glance at each other and burst into giggles.
My mom rolls her eyes. “So I care about my girls. Big deal.”
“You could just ask me, Mom.” I give her a hug.
“Like I tried to yesterday when you got me all riled up about Aunt Janice and her children that run around like little monsters?”
I lift my shoulders in mock innocence. “I have no idea what you mean!”
“Food’s ready, girls!” my dad interrupts, and we all sit at the table.
It’s like a scene from a picture-perfect movie, the whole family sitting together at the table, glasses clinking and silverware scraping against plates amidst the sound of conversation, recollections, and laughter. Part of me feels like I’m on the outside looking in as I try to categorize my feelings—as I try to interpret the dreams I had last night versus the reality of my situation, whether I’m in love with Brian or if my feelings for Mark will never allow me to fully give myself to Brian. As I wonder if my feelings for Mark are real or if they’re based on some fantasy I’ve held for ten years.
I try to participate and let go of the internal struggle I’m facing, because I miss this. I miss being with my family. I love Vegas, love my job, love the life I’ve built there, and I certainly don’t want to move back home, but nothing beats family.
I don’t get a chance to talk to my sister privately about the boy they keep referring to. I don’t get a chance to talk about my confusing feelings or the fact that I slept with the lead singer of her favorite band, too. I don’t get a chance to mention Brian’s warnings and pit them against Mark’s sincerity. I don’t get the chance to admit that I’ve slept with a pair of brothers.
I will get the chance to share all of that with my sister at some point, but breakfast with my parents isn’t the right time. So for now, I pretend like everything’s fine. I laugh at the right parts and interject my own familiar brand of sarcasm where it fits as if I’m not facing absolute turmoil at the hands of brothers.
* * *
I toss my overnight bag in my car and head inside to give my mom one last hug before I take off. My dad is off to work, but I said goodbye to him this morning along with my sister.
“You sure you have to go?” my mom asks.
I nod. “Yeah. I’m sorry it was such a quick visit.”
She gives me a hug. “You know you’re welcome any time for however long you want to stay.”
“I know. Thanks, Mom.”
“You sure you don’t want to talk about the boy?”
I giggle. “Not yet. Maybe soon.”
She smiles. “I’m just on the other side of the phone whenever you’re ready.”
We walk to the front door. “Love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too.” She kisses my cheek. “Drive safe and text me when you’re home.”
“I will.” I open the door and say one last goodbye, and then she waves a final time and closes the door before she bursts into tears because I’m leaving again. Just as I take my first step toward my car, a huge black Yukon screeches to a stop right in front of the driveway.
My mouth goes dry and my heart thuds as a nervous energy zips down my spine.
I know who it is before the door even opens, before the feet wearing black Nikes and the legs clad in black jeans step out of the vehicle.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
This is extreme, even for him.
Mark strides up the driveway toward me, looking every bit like the rock star he is—black shirt to match his black pants, tattoos snaking down his arms, sunglasses perched on his nose, dark stubble peppering his jaw—and looking completely out of place in the quiet suburban driveway of my parents’ house. He stops a few feet in front of me in the shade provided by the garage. He flips his sunglasses up on top of his head, and his green eyes search mine. “I had to see you.”
“Why?”
He pauses and looks around. “It’s really fucking hot here.”
I can’t help my laugh despite the gravity of the situation. “Yeah, it is. Why are you here?”
“I’m not sure. I just spent five fucking hours in a car trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing, but I came up short.”
“I’m headed back to Vegas now.”
“You are?”
His eyes look hopeful for a second, and I hate what comes out of my mouth next.
“Yeah. Brian’s…um…coming back tonight.”
The hope disappears and is replaced with a hardness that physically hurts my heart. “Oh.” He looks away from me.
“Don’t you, like, have a concert or something? Why are you wasting your time with me?”
He heaves out a melancholy laugh. “Tour’s over, babe. I’ve got commitments here and there and we’ve got studio time booked in a few weeks, but I’m pretty much off for a bit.”
I’d have probably known that had I not deleted all social media related to Mark Ashton. “Oh,” I say, echoing his earlier word. “So you decided to take a road trip?”
He shrugs.
“How did you even find me?”
“You told me where you were.”
“I said my parents’ house. I didn’t say where that was.”
“I might’ve hit up your friend for information again.”
I roll my eyes. “Some friend she is.”
“Maybe she is, Reese.”
“By throwing temptation at me?”
He takes a step closer to me. He’s close enough that I can smell him, and desire warms my belly. “I tempt you?”
“Every second of every day,” I breathe.
“Jesus,” he mutters. He pulls me into him, and I don’t have the strength to fight him off. He doesn’t kiss me, just holds me for a few beats, and it feels so damn good here, so right here, that I don’t even care if he is using me because of some competition with his brother. “To answer your question, this is why I came here.”
He buries his face in my neck, the scruff on his jaw scratchy and rough against my skin. My heart feels so full here in his arms. My blood heats, my nerves awaken, and all the feelings rush south to the throb pulsing between my legs.
I don’t just want him—I don’t just want this to be real, to be sincere. I need him. I ache for him. Our one night floods my memories, that hand running along my thigh, his kiss, his touch, his body as it entered mine. It’s so strong, so familiar…yet it’s starting to fade. And then it fades completely as I realize what I’m doing.
I pull out of his embrace, not sure if I’m being noble or stupid.
“Ride with me,” he says. “Vinny can drive your car back and we can sit in the back of the Yukon, just you and me, and talk.”
Trapped in a car for five hours with Mark Ashton?
It’s like a dream come true…except it’s dangerous. Suicidal, even.
“I—I don’t know. And who the hell is Vinny?”
“My head of security. Please, Reese. I came all this way to see you.” This isn’t the fifteen-minute drive from the Strip to my place. He took a five-hour car trip to come see me in another state. For someone who seems as busy as he is, that deserves some recognition. I can hardly think of a reason to say no to him when he did all this because of whatever hope he’s clinging to that we can work this out. “Please just give me a few hours.”
I sigh. I didn’t need to be convinced. The I don’t know was out of obligation to my boyfriend, not because I truly didn’t know what to do. I know what the right thing to do is, but I find myself doing the opposite despite myself. “Okay.”