When Forever Changes

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When Forever Changes Page 11

by Siobhan Davis


  “Yeah, Mom was still picking bits of carrot out of my hair the next day.” I smile at the memory.

  Ryan slings his arm around my shoulders, smacking a loud kiss off my cheek. “Fun times, little sis.” He steers me into the kitchen, and I giggle at the sight that awaits me. Slater is standing in front of the stove, wearing a wide grin and an apron that reads “Can I suggest the sausage?” with a picture of a hand with the index finger pointing downward.

  “Hey, Belle.” His warm brown eyes meet mine. “Hope you’re hungry. I made Mom’s chicken potpie and peach cobbler for dessert.”

  My tummy rumbles in appreciation and the guys laugh. “I think that’s your answer,” I joke, “and it’s not like I’d ever turn my favorite food down.”

  “Good, because I’ve made way too much food for the three of us.”

  “Isn’t Austin joining us?” Ryan inquires, rummaging in the refrigerator. “Beer?” he asks, looking at me, and I nod.

  “Nah. He’s working an extra shift tonight. Won’t be home till late.”

  I get to work setting the table, sipping on my beer as I go. “It’s not like it’ll go to waste. I know how much food you two put away.”

  “We’re growing boys, Tornado. What do you expect?”

  “Nothing less, Randy Ryan.”

  He scowls. “Gabby.”

  “Ryan.” I smirk in his direction as Slater shakes his head, quietly chuckling.

  “I might need to set some new house rules.”

  “Oh, this I gotta hear.” Slater takes the pie out of the oven and starts slicing it into sections.

  “One,” Ryan starts, “Randy Ryan is banned. It’s on the list of words that deserve to die a thousand deaths. I do not want to hear those annoying words leaving your lips while you’re here.”

  “Well, then you have to agree to refrain from calling me Tornado. Fair’s fair.”

  He shakes his head, rounding the table and pulling my chair out for me. “You don’t get to dictate, Tornado. Our house, our rules.”

  “Defend my honor,” I beseech Slater as he slides a loaded plate in front of me.

  Gently placing his hands on my shoulders, he pins Ryan with a serious look. “Your sister is right, and I’m all about equality. While Belle is living here, she has an equal say in all things.”

  I reach up, squeezing his hand. A tingle of electricity dances over my skin from the slight contact, and I pull my hand back as if it’s contaminated. My cheeks heat as I pick up my silverware and dig in.

  “Why do you get to use a nickname and I don’t?” Ryan inquires, wolfing into his food.

  Slater slides into a seat across from me. “Because I’m me, and you’re just Randy Ryan. Now shut up about stupid house rules and eat.” He stabs his fork in Ryan’s direction, and we all laugh.

  The rest of dinner passes pleasantly with the boys ribbing one another in between demolishing the entire potpie and all the dessert. So much for having too much food. I try to force Slater into the living room after dinner, so I can clean up, but he’s having none of it. Ryan has gone upstairs to get changed. He’s taking Myndi to a movie, so that leaves Slater and me on clean-up duty.

  We work silently and efficiently, rinsing and loading plates and glasses into the dishwasher. I’m acutely aware of his presence and how the muscles in his arms flex and roll as he bends and straightens. When the back of his shirt lifts, exposing a strip of toned, tan skin, my stomach does a strange, twisty motion and my body overheats. Silently slapping myself upside the head, I tell myself to get a grip. This is Slater. My pseudo-brother. And I don’t know why I’m feeling weird around him lately.

  I could blame Dylan for putting notions in my head, but, if I’m honest, it commenced before he started hurling ridiculous insinuations at me.

  I’m wiping down the countertop while Slater is sipping from a bottle of water, watching me, and I’m aware of his dedicated attention. My mouth feels suddenly dry, and all the tiny hairs on the back of my neck lift. “You doing okay?” he asks quietly after a bit.

  Throwing the cloth in the sink, I shrug. “I’m taking it one day at a time.”

  “For what it’s worth, he’s a fucking idiot.”

  “Thanks, but I really don’t want to talk about Dylan. I’m trying to clear my head so I can think straight, and going over everything won’t help my agenda.”

  He steps in closer to me, tilting my chin up with his finger. Heat floods my body, and I lose the ability to breathe. His eyes shimmer with emotion when he speaks. “Just don’t sell yourself short, Belle. Any guy that has you in his life is a lucky sonofabitch, and you deserve to be treated like an angel. Anything less just won’t cut it. You hear me?”

  I can only nod, because his touch and the intensity of the way he’s looking at me has rendered my vocal cords ineffective. My eyes flit to his lips, and I wonder what it would be like to kiss him.

  I jerk away from him, my cheeks flaring at the inappropriateness of my thoughts. “I, ah, I get it.” I look down at the floor, mumbling. “I should go unpack.”

  “Sure. Let me know if you need anything.”

  I race up the stairs, even more confused and tormented than I was earlier. Ryan has already deposited my bags in his room and cleared out half of his closet, but the rest of the room is a mess, and I set about stripping and redressing the bed in my own bed linen and tidying up the room. Ryan pops his head in while I’m on my cleaning-ninja buzz, offering again to take me with him on his date, but I shoo him away. I don’t want to feel like a fifth wheel, and I don’t want to be envious or jealous of my best friend. Ryan and Myndi have really clicked, and I’m genuinely happy for them. I don’t want to rain on their parade. Ryan needs the love of a good woman, and if it’ll stop him from screwing his way through campus, then I’m even more in favor of the relationship.

  After I’ve dusted and wiped clean every disgusting surface, emptied the trash cans, and vacuumed the floor, I unpack my things and hang them up. Changing out of my clothes into a lace-trimmed camisole, I flop down on the bed, plug in my earphones, and select my favorite Kelly Clarkson album. Her brand of angsty, edgy music and emotional lyrics are exactly what I’m in the mood for now.

  I must have fallen asleep because I wake hours later in darkness, music still playing in a loop on my cell. Stifling a yawn, I remove my earphones and swing my legs out of the bed. I slip out into the corridor to use the bathroom. The hallway is eerily quiet, and there isn’t a sound from the house.

  I scrub my face, clean my teeth, and take a pee. Opening the door, I scream when confronted, unexpectedly, by Slater. “Oh fuck. You scared the crap out of me.”

  “Sorry,” he says, failing to hide a smirk that looks in no way apologetic. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I knocked on your door earlier, but you didn’t answer.”

  “I fell asleep listening to music, and I’m fine. Stop worrying. Please. I’m not going to fall apart.”

  “That’s virtually an impossibility.” His eyes start wandering. “I’ll never not care about you.” An electrical charge sizzles in the air, and my nipples harden in response. I realize I’m only in a flimsy cami and my lace thong about the same time Slater does.

  His eyes darken, and he visibly stiffens as he rakes his gaze up my bare legs, lingering on my tits for a fraction too long. I clutch the side of the door, feeling a little woozy. He scrubs a hand over his prickly jaw. “You better not parade around Austin dressed like that or Ryan will blow a fucking gasket,” he grits out, his deep voice heavy with tension.

  “I thought everyone was asleep,” I murmur, “and point noted. Now, if you’ll excuse me?” I arch a brow, waiting for him to move aside.

  He watches me through hooded eyes as he silently steps sideways.

  “Night, Slate. Sleep tight and don’t let the bed bugs bite.” I walk away, trying my best to keep my tone jovial, to dispel
the frisson of desire flickering between us.

  “Night, sweet Belle.” His voice is soft, and I feel his heated stare ogling my bare ass cheeks as I slink back into my room. The instant the door is closed, I flatten myself against it, silently counting to ten, in an effort to regulate my breathing.

  I don’t know what the hell is going on with me right now.

  Only I’m beginning to wonder if Dylan wasn’t right. Maybe coming here was a mistake.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I don’t see much of Slater the rest of the week or the week after. Between classes and work, he’s not home much, and I’m grateful. Whatever it is I’m feeling toward him can’t get in the way of figuring out what I need to do about Dylan. Dylan has messaged me every single day, at least a couple of times, despite my request for a blanket no-contact policy. I don’t respond, even if I’m sorely tempted.

  I miss him. I miss him so much, and I feel lost without him. But I’m also coming to a few new realizations. Things I’m uncomfortable admitting even to myself. Ryan manages to drag it out of me on Friday night as we’re going for a run around campus.

  “You’re a million miles away, Tornado,” he says, stopping at a bench to take a breather. “I don’t think you heard a word I just said.”

  I drop onto the bench, rooting in my bag. “I didn’t, sorry. My head’s all over the place.”

  Ryan guzzles from his water bottle, and we drink in silence. “A problem shared—”

  “Is a problem halved,” I finish for him. It’s Mom’s favorite saying, and she always uses it when she wants to get us to open up about something.

  I finish my drink, stuffing the empty bottle back in my bag. “Let’s jog back and talk.” We set off for home at a slower pace. “I guess everything that’s happened with Dylan has forced me to take a long hard look at myself and my life, and there’s plenty I don’t like.”

  “Like what?”

  “I didn’t realize how reliant I’d become on him and how much of my own identity I’ve lost in our relationship. I … I—” I slam to a halt, and Ryan stops running too. “I feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore. How to be without him, and that’s not right. Not healthy.”

  “Let’s walk the rest of the way,” Ryan suggests, and I fall into step beside him. “Until recently, I’ve had no issue with Dylan, but I’ve always felt your commitment to one another bordered on the unhealthy at times. You were so hot and heavy, and I hated how you deferred to him on certain things. How you were happy to let him make the decisions, even if I knew it’s not what you really wanted to do.”

  “Has everyone noticed?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s not like we all sit around dissecting your relationship. Dylan’s a good guy, and we had no reason not to trust him with you. But I’ve always felt you’re different with him, and, if I’m honest, that’s made me uncomfortable sometimes.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “I honestly don’t know, and it’s not like I’ve given it huge thought. You were happy, and he treated you right. That was all that mattered, but now …” He trails off, but he doesn’t need to elaborate. I get his point.

  “I’ve come to the same realization myself, and I don’t like it. If we stay together, and I still haven’t decided if that’s what I want, but, if we do, it’s not going to be like it’s always been. I’m going to make changes. Starting with getting a job.”

  “Yeah?” Ryan lifts a brow.

  “Yeah.” I say it with confidence. “And then I’m saving up for my own car. I need to be more independent.”

  “How do you think Dylan will react?”

  “He won’t like it, and he’ll tell me it’s unnecessary, that he has plenty of money. But that isn’t the point. I have tons of money in my bank account, but it’s not mine. I haven’t earned it, and I don’t want to sponge off him. I want to earn my own money and buy my own things. I should never have fallen into the habit of just letting him pay for everything. It’s not right. And I’ve sat on my high horse and criticized every girl that’s hit on him for being a gold digger when I’m really not any better.”

  Ryan takes hold of my arm, forcing me to a stop again. “Hang on here a sec. You are not a money-grabbing whore. You’ve loved him for years, before he had any money. Just because you’ve accepted his generosity and let him pay for things does not mean you’re a gold digger.”

  “Maybe not, but I don’t want to rely on him to fund me. I want to be more independent, and I want to have more interests in my spare time that are mine. Not tagging along with whatever he wants to do.”

  “Good for you, little sis.” Ryan presses a kiss to the top of my head. “But don’t beat yourself up too much. You’ve always been really selfless. Happy to go along with other people’s plans and always the first to offer to help. That doesn’t make you a bad person, neither does wanting to do stuff for yourself now.”

  “Thanks, little big bro.” I wrap my arm around his waist. “And thanks for always being here for me. I appreciate you, even if I don’t always show it.”

  Ryan insists that I come with him and Myndi to the club later, and I don’t put up too much of a protest. Austin is there along with a few of Ryan’s buddies. Slater is working behind the bar tonight, and he sends over a beer for Ryan and a couple of fruity drinks for me and Myndi before we’ve even had time to order them. I blow him a kiss in thanks, and he grins.

  “So, Gabby,” Austin says, sliding in closer to me until our thighs are brushing. “How are you enjoying your new abode?” He gives me his full attention, his blue eyes pinning mine in place.

  “It’s cool, although I didn’t think I’d be in the house alone so much. You guys are hardly ever there.”

  “We’re all busy. Senior year is a bitch, and I’ve been pulling extra shifts lately. Saving up for repairs on my Harley.”

  “You have a bike?” I inquire, taking a sip of my drink.

  “Yep, but she’s been out of action for a while. The parts I need are outside my budget. Hence the double shifts.” He waggles his brows and clinks his glass against mine. “But I should have her fixed up in the next couple weeks. I’d love to take you out on it sometime.”

  “I’d like that. I’ve always imagined riding on the back of a bike, dressed all in leather, with my hair streaming behind me, throwing caution to the wind,” I answer truthfully.

  I’d shamelessly tried to convince Dylan to buy a bike before, but he was having none of it. He spent about fifteen minutes giving me this big lecture on the dangers of motorcycles, spewing a load of road stats like an encyclopedia, and all sexy images disappeared from my brain.

  “Well, fuck me,” Austin says, moving his arm around my shoulder. “That’s like my favorite wet dream, right there.”

  “Pfft. As if you haven’t lived that dream a thousand times over, I’m sure,” I scoff. Austin is almost as legendary for his manwhore ways as the now-reformed Ryan and new, tamer Slater.

  “Not with anyone as sexy as you.” He winks, holding me a little too tight for comfort.

  “Powers!” Ryan hollers over the table at Austin. “Keep your fucking filthy hands off my little sister.”

  Austin holds up his palms, protesting innocence with an angelic face. “Just making small talk, bruh. No need to get your panties in a bunch.”

  “Powers?” I inquire, removing Austin’s arm from my shoulder and scooting away from him a little. I’m choosing to ignore my brother’s timely intervention. While I’m grateful, he has to stop babying me too. Everyone has been sheltering me, and it’s time I learned to stand on my own two feet. I’m more than capable when left to my own devices.

  “Your brother thinks he’s a comedian,” Austin deadpans. “Austin Powers? Man of mystery? Legendary womanizing party whore?”

  I giggle. “Now I get it. That’s one of Ryan’s better ones,” I tease.

 
“Of course, you’d say that. You Jameses are as thick as thieves.”

  “That we are, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Austin leans in close, pressing his mouth to my ear. “I envy you that, you know. I—”

  “Thought you were meeting Nadine?” Slater barks, appearing at our table and shooting daggers at Austin.

  Austin surveys Slater for a moment before stretching his arm across the back of the booth behind me. He smirks at his roomie. “It was a casual arrangement, and I’m discovering the scenery in here is much more alluring tonight.”

  Slater purses his lips, exuding tension.

  I slide out of the booth, not wanting to get in the middle of whatever is going on between them. “I’m going to the restroom.”

  “Wait a minute,” Slater says, ignoring Austin and focusing on me. “I came over to speak to you. Ryan mentioned you were looking for a job, and we’re hiring. My boss can talk to you now if you’re interested.”

  My eyes light up as if it’s Christmas morning. “I’m interested. Definitely.”

  He smiles. “Okay, go to the restroom, and then come find me, and I’ll bring you to him.”

  A half hour later I walk back to our table with the biggest grin on my face. I sit down beside Ryan and Myndi. “I got the job. I start tomorrow night.”

  “Congrats, babe.” Myndi shoves my brother out of the way so she can hug me.

  “I’m proud of you.” Ryan kisses my forehead.

  “Welcome aboard, Belle,” Slater says, looming over me. “This one’s on the house.” He hands me a champagne cocktail. “Anyone asks, it’s nonalcoholic.” His lips kick up, and he sends me a cheeky wink.

  I stretch up and kiss his cheek. “Thanks. Can I get a ride with you to work tomorrow?”

  “Of course. You know you don’t even have to ask.” Bending down, he whispers in my ear, “You’ve no idea how much I love the idea of you working with me.”

  Shivers cascade down my spine, confusing the hell out of me. “Me too.” I look into his eyes and get momentarily lost.

 

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