by Gow, Kailin
Bryson drops his towel and picks it up before spinning around like he didn’t even hear me. A gentle tap lands over my shoulder, and I turn to find Cole and some beefed up linebacker next to him. That explains a lot.
“What’s up, sis?” Cole gives a light sock to my arm. “Have you met Luke Carter?”
He looks vaguely familiar. He’s got dark hair and incredible dimples. I can see why girls might drop to their knees in front of him, but, unfortunately for both Luke and Cole, I won’t be one of them. All of my knee-dropping skills are reserved for Bryson.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I offer. “You guys want a table?” I point over to the back where most of the people from Whitney Briggs hang out.
“No, thanks.” He slaps Luke over the shoulder then it comes back to me, Music Appreciation—Luke is the boy who’s good at picking up pens and, apparently, girls. “I thought maybe you and Luke could catch a movie or something. I feel bad that you haven’t seen much of Hollow Brook. You in?”
Crap. Leave it to Cole to hand select a boyfriend for me. I’m sure he paid him not to touch the merchandise. Just the thought makes my blood boil.
“I’m working.” I nail Cole with a look that says we’ll talk later. “Or, trust me, I’d want to.” I glare into my brother. “Because I am thoroughly ready to spread my wings.” His face bleaches out. Okay, so maybe I could have chosen another analogy, but still, the premise is the same.
Bryson pops up and knuckle bumps Luke and Cole.
“What’s going on?” He sharpens his gaze at my brother, and it feels like the temperature in the room just went up ten degrees.
“Baya and Luke were just about to hang out. You mind giving her the night off?”
Bryson’s mouth opens as if he’s about to say something, but he aborts the effort.
“Oh”—I widen my eyes at Bryson as if begging him to hoist me out of this verbal quicksand—“I’m not wearing anything decent.” I look down at the shorts I swiped from Jeanie, my crop top, coupled with a pair of patent leather FMs. Surely my conservative brother wouldn’t want me roaming the mean streets of Hollow Brook in what amounts to brothel-ware.
“I thought that might be the case, so I brought these.” Cole holds up a bag, and I snatch it from him only to find my pink Whitney Briggs sweat suit staring back at me. Figures. Cole is still very much interested in me maintaining my V-card for another twenty years. Little does he know I turned it in last weekend to his beefcake BFF.
“Look”—I sigh into poor Luke who doesn’t even realize his balls are on the line if he tries something with me—“I’m kind of not feeling that great. I really just want to finish my shift. I’m shy a few books for class, and I need the cash.”
“Baya.” Cole pulls me to the side. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you needed money? You know that’s what I’m here for. I want to help you in anyway I can.” His eyes melt over mine with a layer of heartbreak underneath.
I cut a quick glance back at Luke. “I see what kind of help you’re offering, and, by the way, no thank you. Do you honestly think I’m that desperate to have my brother hook me up? Don’t you think I have what it takes to find someone on my own?”
Cole lets out a heated breath. His fingers fly through his hair in frustration.
“No, Baya”—he shakes his head good and pissed—“I’m afraid you do have what it takes to get a guy, lots of guys. I also know you lied through your teeth about where you went last weekend.” His eyes remain over mine, and my stomach explodes in a ball of acid. Holy shit. Cole knows.
The air clots up in the room. The speakers blare some yodeling country song that mimics all of the disasters in my life, and I just want to crawl under a table and stay there while trying to avoid both Cole and old gum.
“I don’t have to tell you everything.” I practically spit the words in his face. “You’re not Dad. You never were. You pretended you were, but you never came close.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His dark brows knit together. “I care about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt by whoring around with a bunch of guys.”
“Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black. I think you’ve perfected the fine art of ‘whoring around,’ or haven’t you noticed the writing on the wall? I believe you’re in the lead by almost fifty points. I hope to God your dick doesn’t fall off, but, if it did, I wouldn’t call it a loss. If you keep throwing yourself away like that, then you don’t deserve to have one.”
I hurry to the restroom, lock myself in a stall and just lose it.
Less than three minutes later Laney comes in, and I finally open the door.
“Sometimes big brothers suck.” She pulls me into a strong embrace.
I don’t think Cole will ever accept me being with anyone—let alone Bryson.
Cole’s not at all like Dad.
He’s a hypocrite of the highest order.
Bryson
Fucking Cole.
He’s such an ass for treating Baya like she’s still fifteen. He took off soon after their blowout, and, lucky for Luke, he took off not long after, too. I have nothing against the guy, but, if he thinks he’s hitting on Baya, he’s got another thing coming, namely my fist.
I watch as she and Laney wipe down the tables. It’s a quarter to three, and you’d never know it by the way the co-eds still line the bar even though we shut down the kitchen an hour ago.
“Why don’t you get going?” Holt smacks me on the ass with a dishrag.
“I should help you close.” I watch as Baya frowns into Laney. Cole ruined her entire mood the second he showed up. It’s obvious his opinion means a lot to her. I wonder if she’ll have a change of heart about me once he fills her in on what a womanizing asshole I’ve been the entire time he’s known me—not that she’s completely unaware. It’s just that hearing it from Cole might put some weight behind it.
“Don’t worry about me, man.” He nods over to Laney. “Me and Sawyer have got it handled.” He steps in. “So, did you appreciate the big ‘meltdown’ last weekend?” His brows pitch so high they’re about to rocket right off his forehead.
“I figured that was your doing.” I shake my head. “Do me a favor, and don’t go defrosting any more of our assets. I got this.”
“Done. And next time a little thank you would be nice.” His face grows serious. “Dude, I don’t want to see you get hurt again. Got that?”
“Baya isn’t going to hurt me.”
“I’m not worried she’s going to leave you. I’m worried you’re going to do something stupid and leave her.”
A couple of girls spill their margaritas, and Holt jumps on it.
I shake my head at the absurdity. I wouldn’t leave Baya. There’s no way in hell I’d let Cole push me around like some pussy.
Maybe I will take off.
“Baya.” I nod her over, and she strides up with that sexier-than-hell smile expanding over her face. “You want to head home a little early and watch a movie?” I’m hoping she’ll know what “movie” is code for because I can’t take looking at her strut around the apartment in her skimpy shorts another second.
“Sure.” Baya takes a step back and looks up at me from under her lashes. “You know what I really want to do, though?”
“I’m hoping.” I hold back the shit-eating grin waiting to erupt on my face.
“This.” Baya pulls me in by the cheeks and detonates a kiss over my lips that makes my balls ache with pleasure.
A series of oohs erupt, and a round of applause circles the vicinity. I know for damn sure that not one of those people are related to Baya in any way.
This is it. Baya is ready to take the next logical step and fill Cole in on our relationship. Now it’s all up to me to man up and do it.
I hope to God I survive.
Baya and I head back to the apartment because she’s emotionally and physically drained.
Cole’s door is sealed shut, but a steady stream of female laughter bleats from the other side. Fi
gures. The fuck-fest continues.
I flip on the TV and find a movie we both agree on before we settle on opposite ends of the couch.
This sucks.
Baya and I just stare at each other while Cole and his girl of the night shout themselves into an erotic oblivion.
“You know”—she shakes her head as the climax subdues and all is quiet in the next room—“I don’t see what we’re so afraid of.” She runs her tongue over the rim of her lip, and my dick perks to life.
“We’re adults.” I shrug as if it were no big deal.
Baya pushes her tits out in my direction as if she were offering them up for dessert. “I wish I had a nice mattress to lay on. This couch is really starting to mess with my back.” The tiny dimple just shy of her lip goes off as she gives an impish grin. She touches her finger to her lips before plunging it into her mouth and pulling it out incredibly, achingly slow.
A hard groan comes from me, and I pull her up from the couch.
Baya latches onto me by the waist. Her fingers glide up the front of my shirt, and my stomach twitches as she runs her cool hand over it.
“I’ve got a really nice, comfortable mattress you can try out—I mean, if it’s for your health you can have it.” I swallow hard because I know for a fact we’re about to cross one serious fucking line.
“Thank you,” she says it while rolling her chest into mine, her seduction still in full effect. “But I really don’t believe it’s as good as you say it is.” She runs her fingers through my hair, and my head rolls into her. “I might have to see for myself.”
“By all means.” I lead her by the hand to my bedroom and entomb us inside.
“So this is it?” She whispers looking around at the clusterfuck of clothes and books, my unmade bed that looks anything but enticing. Hell, I don’t even know when I last changed the sheets. Maybe this isn’t the greatest idea.
She reaches back to turn off the lights, and I stop her.
“I want to watch.” I bury a smile in my cheek.
What the hell, she’s already seen the mess.
“Well, then”—Baya drops to her knees and unbuttons my jeans—“I’d better give you something worth looking at.”
“Baya,” I whisper. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.” She works my jeans down past my knees and runs her cool fingers along the inside of my boxers until I groan. “You like that, don’t you?” She bats her lashes at me. Baya tugs down my boxers, slow, like waiting for Christmas, and my hard-on pops out to greet her. “Wow, would you look at that?” She glances up at me. “No wonder it felt like a freight train backed into me—because it did.”
Baya brushes her lips over me, and I resist the urge to thrust into her mouth. She bites down over the tip of my cock, and I let out a groan that goes on for miles. I didn’t think I could get any harder, but it feels like I’m about to push right out of my skin.
Baya runs her tongue over the length of me then plunges over my dick with her mouth until it feels like she’s deep-throating. I glance down to make sure she’s okay, and she doesn’t seem to be struggling. She rides her mouth over me in long, lean strokes, her teeth digging into me on the sides.
“Careful,” I whisper, and she goes easy, washing over me with her tongue. “Oh fuck, yes.” I want this feeling to last forever. Baya gets the hang of it, and my dick feels as though it’s died and gone to some penile nirvana. I run my fingers through her dark hair and watch her steady motions as she rocks over me. It feels so fantastic that I’m about to lose it in record time. “Baya,” I whisper, trying to coax her to pull away before I destroy this version of sexual activity for her, too.
A set of footsteps scurry down the hall. Voices bloom, then yelling, but I can’t see straight because she’s got me right at that magical place I’ve waited to be at all damn week.
“Baya, stop.” I pull out just as the door explodes open, and Cole’s wild eyes stare back at me with my dick in the air—his sister’s lips ready to receive me.
Baya jumps up and screams, pushing her way past him.
Shit.
Cole thrashes me against the wall before I can pull up my pants.
“You fucking little asshole.” He thunders in my ear. Cole sends his fist flying into my face, and I feel a pop in my lower jaw. He yanks me by the T-shirt, pulling me in nose to nose. “You said you wouldn’t do that to my sister, man.” His voice comes out hoarse like he’s crying the words out. “And now you’re screwing her right fucking next to me!”
The front door slams, and, for a second, I think it’s Baya that’s taken off, but she appears in the doorway, and my heart breaks for her.
“Get the hell off.” I pull on my jeans with my boxers rolled in a knot at the base of my balls.
Cole stuffs his fist into my gut, and I double over trying to catch my breath.
“Stop!” Baya screams until it sounds like her lungs are going to launch across the room.
He knocks me to the floor, and his foot finds its way into my ass over and over while I cup my balls, trying to protect the things he’s really after.
“Cole!” Baya claws at him from behind, but he lands his knee on my back and starts delivering hearty blows to the side of my face, my neck.
Shit.
From the corner of my eye, I see Cole jerk back, and Baya flies across the room.
“That’s it.” I leap up and snatch him by the throat. I pin his sorry ass to the wall and clock him a good one, square in the mouth, before his knee comes up to greet the boys.
“Shit.” I drop to the floor, and he gives a power kick to my chest.
“Stay the hell away from my sister,” he roars.
Baya tries to make her way to comfort me, but he holds her back.
“You can forget about that asshole,” he seethes into her. “This is the last time you’ll be seeing him.”
“Go to hell, Cole!” She tries to break the stronghold he’s got on her. “Bryson!”
It takes all of my willpower to suck in a breath and stagger to my feet. The pain echoing in my balls is enough to land me into next week.
“Let go of me!” Baya screams, and a hard thump emits from the apartment next door.
Cole kicks me hard in the shin. “Get your stuff, and get the hell out,” he thunders.
“I’m not going anywhere, dude.”
He pulls Baya out of the room with him and slams the door behind them.
Fuck.
8
Caught in the Middle With You
Baya
“You’re an asshole!” I scream at my brother at the top of my lungs.
More pounding ensues from the apartment next door, but I really don’t give a shit if the entire building crumbles because of my outburst. I scan the area for something solid to throw and spot a beer bottle off in the corner.
“Baya, no,” he shouts as I wield it like a machete.
“Well, I say, yes, for once.”
He steps toward the television, and I hurl it, missing his face and hitting the screen instead. A large spider web of a crack stares back at me in its place, and I’m damned impressed.
“You fucking broke it.” He straightens, pulling himself out of the moment. “Baya, come here.” His voice softens. He’s back to being his sweet self, and, to be honest, not a single part of me wants to be mad at this version of my brother. “Baya, I care about you. Trust me, the last person you want to be with is Bryson Edwards. The guy’s a slime.”
“No, he’s not.” I pull my hands over my hips. “Take it back. I really care about him, Cole. And, if you cared about me like you say you do, you would let me be with whoever I please.”
“What the hell?” He says it mostly to himself, obviously shocked at the idea of me having my own opinion. “Baya, the guy is a jerk. He beds girls for fun. Look”—he walks me over to the scoreboard—“he keeps track of them on the wall like its some kind of game.” His eyes bulge when he says it. He’s so convincing, it frightens me.
“And whose score sheet is this?” I point to my brother’s side of the wall, who, by the way, is blowing smoke in the face of the competition.
“He told you?” A guilty look crosses his face.
“Yes, he told me. We don’t have any secrets.”
“Really?” His brows pinch. His dimples depress. “So I suppose he told you all about Stephanie.” His head ticks back a notch as if daring me to say it was true.
An entire dam of words gets locked in my throat.
“No.” It comes from me in defeat. “He will though. When he’s ready.”
“So you don’t know what’s been eating at this guy for the last five years, turning him into some kind of sperm dispenser, but you’re willing to get on your knees for him?”
I try to say something to defend Bryson—to defend me, but it feels as if an ex-girlfriend-shaped boulder has lodged in my throat. Tears start to come, and I snatch my bag off the floor and run out the door.
“Baya wait.” Cole follows me down the stairwell, but my feet don’t stop moving. We hit the cool night air, and I run all the way across the street back to Whitney Briggs where I should’ve been in the first place. “I’m not leaving you alone. It’s four in the morning.” The haze blows out of his mouth like steam as he pants alongside me. “You know I love you, right?”
I stop in my tracks and just stare at my brother a very long time as the sky brightens a pale shade of lavender. He has the same dark wavy hair, piercing green eyes as my father, same dimples, too and my heart breaks because not only do I miss my father, but I miss the old Cole, the one I thought I knew.
“No, I guess I don’t know that you love me.” I swallow hard. “I mean you always told me how to act, and who to spend my time with, but you’ve never used those words.”
Cole pulls me in and sniffs hard into my hair. His chest rattles with grief. “I do love you, Baya.” He pulls back, and the street lamp picks up the moisture in his eyes. “You’re my baby sister, and I only want what’s best for you.” His voice cracks with grief. “You deserve some nice kid who’s never even made it around the block, let alone entire neighborhoods. You’re amazing, and I want you to have a safe, and wonderful life.”
