Torn

She glares at me and shakes her head, the helmet twisting crookedly on her head.

"It's better when you hold me up."

I take her small hand in mine. "Maybe for now you're right. Let's go back to the house and fix up your knee, okay?"

"Okay. I won't tell Mommy you let me fall."

I don't know why, but those little innocent words slice through my heart. I've never let her get hurt before. And no matter what, I'm never going to let it happen again.

Tor

Tristan is standing over me in my work area as I'm kneeling in front of this old Indian bike that I feel like I'm never going to finish. Finding parts for this bike has been nearly impossible and has put me way behind with my schedule.

"Speak or go away. I'm busy." I say, grabbing a wrench.

"I need a week off."

"Need or want?"

"Does it fuckin' matter? What's up your ass lately?"

I stand, grab a rag to wipe my hands off on, and turn to face my little brother. Even though he's twenty-four, he'll always be my little brother in my eyes.

"A week off is a long time. I'll have to rearrange some work since you're the only one who does what you do here. When do you need it?"

"In about two weeks."

Two weeks doesn't give me much time to move things around for the custom paint jobs we have booked, but Tris hardly ever asks for time off so I really can't complain.

Sighing, I nod. "Okay, then. We'll work it out. Can I ask where you're going?"

He shoves his hands into the front pockets of his faded jeans and looks down, his dirty blond hair falling down into his face.

"I'm meeting with a local service dog rep to go through the screening process for a therapy dog."

My attitude instantly diminishes. Mom and I have been after him for years to look into a therapy dog to help him with the seizures he suffers.

"Tris, that's great. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "It's just taken me a while to accept it, I guess."

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

He's always tried to hide the fact that he has seizures, like he thinks there's something wrong with him. It's kept him from making friends and he's never really dated anyone, at least as far as I know. He and Tyler have both become like hermits and that worries me a lot. I don't want my brothers spending the rest of their lives alone. Like me.

"Anyway, so now I have to meet with them in person, they do a home check, I meet with a few of the trainers, and then I get put on a waiting list for the right dog."

"Take all the time you need, then." I lightly squeeze his shoulder. "This is worth it, trust me. Do you need any money?"

"Nah, they work on donations and I already made one."

"We'll organize a ride to raise some money to donate to them, too. Does Mom know?"

"Yeah, she's the one that pushed me into it. A few of their service dogs are rescues so Mom has worked with them before."

"Good deal." I say, glad that he's going through with this decision. "This is a good thing, Tris. If it can make your life a little safer, that's all that matters. Right?"

He nods but still has that uncertain look in his grey eyes. "I hope so."

"Be positive. And hey, I wouldn't admit this normally but since I brought home that big white fluff monster, I'm not as lonely. It's nice to have him and that cat waiting for me when I get home after a long day."

Laughing, he shakes his head, turns and walks away. "I'm starting to worry about us, man." He jokes, turning his head. "We need to find us some chicks."

Speaking of chicks, it's been almost a week since I saw Kenzi at the bonfire, and my emotions are still all over the place from that night. The way her eyes were glued to me, glowing with a mix of love and lust as I played the guitar did way more than just turn me on like mad. It made me itch to start playing again. Every night since then I've dragged my guitar out of the closet and sat in my back yard brushing up on my old favorite songs and toying around with some new ones.

I miss my dreams.

I can still feel her lips on mine, in that daring moment when she kissed me all on her own and almost made me tear her clothes off in Asher's laundry room while he was probably twenty feet away eating her birthday cake.

I feel sick.

I feel tortured.

I feel unhinged with want for her.

I feel a deep ache in my heart that only she can soothe.

I feel like I'm stabbing a dagger straight through my best friend’s back.

The scales are tipping, though, and it's scaring the shit out of me.

I pull my phone out of my back pocket and type out a quick text, my stomach immediately knotting up.

Me: I'm taking tomorrow off and going for a ride.

Kenzi: Um ok? Thanks for the update? Shall I expect further notice?

I laugh at the screen, loving her little snarky attitude.

Me: Be outside at 8am. Jeans, boots, and your helmet.

Kenzi: I'm going too?! :-)

Me: If you want to...

Kenzi: Of course I do!

Me: Good.

Kenzi: Woot! I haven't been on your bike in years!

Me: Because that seat on my bike has been reserved.

Kenzi: For who?

Me: The woman of my dreams ;)

Kenzi: Eep

Me: Wtf is that?

Kenzi: It’s like wow.

Me: Speak English. I'm old, remember?

Kenzi: You are not. You're so cute.

Me: Please don't call me cute.

Kenzi: But you so are!

Me: I'll see you in the morning, Angel.

Kenzi: I can't wait!