TYLER

 

Two weeks.

That’s how long Dean has been dating Brenna. Two weeks and five days. Four date nights. Five dinners in. Eight nights Dean has come home past midnight.

Nineteen sleepless nights I’ve stared at the ceiling imagining them together.

Not that I’m counting.

I was already having a hard time getting used to Brenna living just a few feet away. Now I have to imagine my brother kissing her, touching her, fucking her. The ostrich approach is my first line of defense; out of sight, out of mind. Despite living with him, I’ve barely spoken to Dean in two weeks. I leave early for work most mornings and stay out late.

But I knew that couldn’t go on forever.

We have a meeting across town, and I can’t come up with a reasonable excuse as to why I can't ride back to the office with him. The topic stays on business for most of the ride, but I’m not able to make it out of the car before the subject changes.

“I want to invite Brenna and Landon over for dinner tonight,” Dean says as the car pulls up to our office.

“That’s fine,” I say, unable to keep the sharp edge out of my voice. “I have some work that’s piling up on my desk. The apartment is all yours.”

I pick up my bag from the floor and get out of the car, thankful for the reprieve. I thought the conversation was over, but Dean is right on my heels, following me into the elevator.

“I don’t want the apartment to myself. I want you to be there,” he says from behind me. “I’ve tried to be mindful of your past relationship, but this thing with Brenna is happening.”

“I told you it was fine,” I say, pressing the button to our floor again. Has the elevator always taken this long?

“You may have said it was fine, but I know it’s bothering you. It feels like I’ve been walking on eggshells for weeks and it’s time we get everything out in the air. She’s my girlfriend—”

“Girlfriend? I didn’t realize it was that serious.” My palms start to sweat, and the elevator starts closing in on me. Girlfriend. Just the word gives me palpitations.  

“Yes, girlfriend. And you’re my brother. You’re more than that. You’re my business partner and my best friend. I don’t want to keep these two parts of my life separate.”

“I never told you to keep her away from me,” I say, getting annoyed by this conversation. Out of all the women he could have dated, Dean picked my ex, and now I’m the one with the issues. That sick feeling turns to anger. “If you want to have her over, have her over—have her stay the night, for all I care. I’m fine with it.”

The elevator opens onto our floor and I get out, needing to put some distance between myself and this conversation.

“Great,” Dean yells at me from the elevator. “I’ll tell them to come over at seven.”

I’m in a foul mood for the rest of the day. I’ve already screamed at two of the interns, and my assistant is near tears by lunch. I decide to do everyone a favor and call it an early day. A few hours of solitude will help me prepare for tonight.

Unfortunately, home isn’t the oasis I thought it would be. The huge apartment is suffocating. I pace the halls, wondering what Brenna is doing right now. This is insane. I need some fresh air, so I leash up Luther and head out for a walk.

But of course, I’m batting a thousand today. As soon as I step outside, I see Brenna coming up the sidewalk loaded down with boxes like a pack mule. I ignore her and hurry around the corner to the park. But my asshole dog pulls on his leash in the other direction.

“No, Luther. Heel.”

Luther wags his tail and runs a circle around my leg, causing me to stumble. The second the leash is out of my hands, my asshole dog makes a beeline back to the apartment. Above, the sky opens up and pelts me with fat raindrops.

“God damn it.” I untangle the leash from my legs and turn just in time to see Luther run headlong into Brenna.

She falls back, the boxes fly through the air. Brenna tries to get to her knees, but Luther keeps jumping on her lap licking her. I run over and pull the big oaf off of her so she can get up.

“Thank you,” she says, a relieved smile lighting her face. That is until she notices it’s me, then the icy facade returns. “Oh, thanks. I can manage from here.”

The rain is coming down in sheets now, and I bite back a frustrated growl. I grab the nearest box. It has to weigh a good forty pounds, and I can’t figure out how she managed to carry two of them this far. “Just get the door,” I say as I get the other box.

The sky lights up overhead and the sound, so much like the crack of a whip, spurs her into action. We get inside, and she takes care of the elevator while I balance the boxes. We ride the elevator up to her floor. Only the sound of water dripping onto the tile floor breaks the silence.

I steal a glance at her. She’s shivering, her thin long-sleeved T-shirt soaked and plastered to her body. Physically, she looks so different than the girl I remember, and not just the hair and tattoos. She looks more alluring. Hips rounder. Breasts fuller. But those lips haven’t changed. I can’t help but wonder if kissing her would feel different or the same.

“Thank you, again,” she says after opening the door, interrupting those dangerous thoughts. “You can set those on the table.”

She points to the other side of the open concept room and disappears down the hall. The apartment doesn't look much different than it did eight years ago. Unwanted memories flood my brain like water spilling over a dam. Homework at the dining room table. Make out sessions on the sofa. Stolen kisses in the kitchen.

Luther trots ahead of me like he owns the place as I set down the boxes, determined to leave as quickly as possible. But when I turn, I almost collide with Brenna. She takes a step back and holds out a pair of towels like a shield.

“I thought you might need this,” she says and tosses me a towel. She bends over and drapes the other over Luther. “This can’t be that puppy you brought home. He was all feet and ears.”

Luther rubs up against Brenna’s legs. His tongue lolls out the side of his mouth, and he looks up adoringly at her.

Traitor.

“It is. As you can see, he grew into those feet.” I glance at the door and back to Brenna. “We should leave. Come on, Luther.”

“Thanks for the help.” With a sigh, she glances over at the soggy boxes. “I hope nothing is ruined.”

“What was in those?” I ask, unable to resist engaging with her. “They were heavy as fuck.”

“My roommate Liv shipped some of my library,” she said opening up one of the boxes and pulling out a plastic-wrapped comic. “She thought they would help cheer me up.” She removes the comic and thumbs through the pages. “Do you still read?”

My eyes shift to the brightly colored cover, and I shake my head. “I got rid of all that after you left,” I say, watching as she meticulously checks each box for damage.

“Oh.” Her shoulders drop. She turns back to the boxes and pulls out a thick graphic novel, setting it on the table. “Now, I feel stupid, but I got this for you. A signed edition of Last Standing. I got it a few years ago. I met Michael Carter at a convention, and I remember how much you loved the series.”

I move closer to the table and read the inscription. Sure enough, it’s made out to me.

“I know it’s stupid and childish,” she says with a laugh. “But I thought you’d like it.”

This Brenna is so different than the girl I fell in love with, but the same in so many ways. Something hot coils in my chest and the feelings I’ve worked so hard to ignore start bubbling to the surface. I have to get out of here before I say something I can’t take back.

“I should go,” I say, handing her back the towel.

Our fingers graze, and I freeze. She looks up at me with those big blue eyes—eyes that haven’t changed at all. Before I can stop myself, I pull her into my arms and kiss her.

I’m not sure what I expected. For it to feel wrong? It didn’t. It felt right, like coming home after a long, hard trip. For her to slap me? I deserved it. She isn’t mine to kiss. A voice in the back of my head tells me to stop, but instead, I pull her closer.

She melts against my chest, sighing. And that little sound drives me crazy. All the reasons we shouldn’t be doing this fall away and I push her back against the table. The kiss is all-consuming. Every unrealized need and pent-up desire I’ve carried with me the past eight years come pouring out, and I give in to the moment.

Three months and eight years of longing.

I no longer care what’s going to happen next. To hell with the consequences.