by Selena Scott
“Maybe you need to stop matching your socks to your underwear,” Raphael quipped, starting to sand down the wall closest to him.
Sarah barked with loud laughter. It was a delight to be in the midst of two brothers. She was an only child and had never had the kind of dynamic that she was witnessing right now. Prickly and humorous and loving and comfortable and irritated all at once. It looked good on them.
“You do not do that… right?” she demanded of Seth.
He turned back to face her, sheepish grin on his face. He yanked up one ankle of his jogging sweatpants to expose a navy blue athletic sock. Next, he rucked up the white T-shirt to show a matching navy blue strip of underwear peeking out from the top of his low-riding sweatpants.
But that wasn’t all that she saw. There was a six-inch strip of tanned skin exposed. His smooth side was golden and a shadow arced down over his hip in a V straight under his pants. He was already dropping his shirt, but not before she caught sight of a blond happy trail, the hint of a six-pack.
She’d been to the Olympics twice, she’d seen the hottest, most fit bodies that the world had to offer. But one glimpse of Seth’s stomach and Sarah’s brain went, guh.
It was clear to her that though he wasn’t as thick as his brother, Seth was by no means thin. When he reached his arm up to keep sanding the wall this time, Sarah watched. And yeah. There was definitely some muscle there.
She averted her eyes. It felt wrong to perv on a guy who was being so friendly and generous to her. Especially one who, in no uncertain terms, had just firmly friend-zoned her.
Sarah walked into the room and picked up a sanding sponge. She set it back down. She turned to one wall and then the other. One of her feet started tapping.
“You all right?” Seth asked from behind her, watching her over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” she said, but her voice wasn’t even convincing to herself.
He raised an eyebrow and turned to face her. “You sure? We can get out of your hair if you want your space back.”
“No, no. It’s not that.”
“Sarah,” Seth started. He said her name as if he’d been saying it for years, as if they hadn’t just met the other day.
“I really need to go on a run is all,” Sarah said, cutting him off. “But it feels like maybe it’s rude to do that while you guys are doing all this free labor for me?”
“Nah,” Raphael said, still facing the wall as he worked. “Go ahead, girl. Do your thing. We’ll be here when you get back. Besides, you’ve already more than paid us in sandwiches. I’ve never had a triple decker before.”
Seth nodded his agreement. “Totally. You go ahead. No big deal.”
Sarah took them at their word and went and changed into her running shoes. They were a pair that had begun to show a little bit of wear. When she sat on her front porch, lacing them up, she couldn’t help but just stare at them for a minute. She’d never, ever worn a pair of running shoes for more than two months before.
One, because you’re not supposed to wear out running shoes—they lose their support if you do. And two, because up until this summer, she’d always had endorsements with athletic companies that sent her free swag up to her ears. She literally couldn’t remember the last time she’d paid for athletic equipment of any kind.
She sighed.
Well, that was gone now. The Olympics had ended just a few weeks ago and her endorsements were gone along with her hopes at a medal. The only thing left of her legacy was the body she was sitting on the steps with. And, of course, the silver medal that her father refused to let her take with her when she moved out west.
So, her body then. That was the only thing left that she still owned.
She stood up, stretched for a minute, and took off at an easy jog down the street. She didn’t want to think about that anymore. All the things she’d lost.
Instead, she’d think about all the things she had. She composed the list in her head. She had Aunt Lynn, the only family member she had who wasn’t drinking her father’s Kool-Aid. Moving to where Aunt Lynn lived had been a no-brainer. Sarah would be closer to a family member who loved her, and she couldn’t help but feel like Lynn had some magic forcefield that kept her father away.
What else did she have? Ah, she was a home owner now. She had a kickass house that was gonna be even more kickass once Seth was done with it. She was gaining a new friend. Who was extremely pretty but also sneaky hot. Whoops. That was a no go. The last thing she needed was to get a crush on her neighbor who was not interested in her.
She ran faster and harder, the way she hadn’t done in a month. She was out of shape, by her standards, and thus, she punished herself by running harder, faster, never letting up. Her lungs screamed and her father’s voice rang in her head. You’re looking a little thick. Why don’t you go for a run? Rise and shine, tubby, time for a run. Your last run time was slow. Do we have to change your diet again?
Sarah was tempted to run harder, to try and leave her father’s cruel words and twisted ambitions behind her. But, instead, she did something new. She slowed her gear down. She went from a sustained sprint down to a jog. She was jogging at a speed he never would have approved of. He’d mock her for going so slowly. He’d convince her that she didn’t care about the health of her body as much as he did. He’d make her run until she literally puked. And then he’d tell her it was okay because she’d eaten too much that day anyways.
Bastard.
Again, her anger had sped her up to an untenable pace and she forced herself to slow the heck down. The houses and mailboxes were still whizzing past, so she knew she wasn’t going that slow. But she was going slow enough that the wind wasn’t whipping away the heat of her skin. Her racing heart wasn’t erased by the pounding of her feet. She could actually feel the work her body was doing to get her here to this very moment. The one she was so freaking grateful for.
It was harder to run this way, she realized. Sprinting, pushing herself to the threshold of what she was capable of, that had been her only gear for all the years she’d been exercising. But this? Allowing herself to acknowledge her own discomfort, listening to her body, refusing to compare her success to anything else… it was harder for her.
But that didn’t mean that it didn’t feel good. After a mile or so of this slower pace, she felt her body fall into a new rhythm, a natural one that she hadn’t really known she had. Her breaths were even enough, and her heart didn’t race so much as beat strongly, with purpose.
By the time she made it back to her own front porch, she was drenched in sweat, her body was loose, and she had absolutely no idea how long or how far she’d run. If she was running at her Olympic pace, she could track herself without a phone very easily. But at this new pace? She had no clue. It was thrilling.
She stretched on the front porch and then knew it was time to head back in. The afternoon was starting to fade. It was hot in the clear, sunny patches, but chilly in the shade. Besides, she needed to either convince these guys to quit for the day or continue to help them.
She took a deep breath, said a prayer of thanks to her body and went inside.
***
“I thought you worked at the shelters on Sundays.”
Raph and Seth had already finished sanding all the walls on the first floor and were back around just washing and dusting now. Necessary prep work if they wanted the paint job to look perfect. Which, of course, Seth did. And Raphael, as disheveled as his appearance might be, truly did care about the quality of his work. No matter how complicated and exacting a plan Seth might dream up for one of their landscaping projects, Raphael executed it with ruthless precision, not giving up until it was utterly perfect. It didn’t hurt that Raph had the steadiest hands of any person Seth had ever met. Seth knew already that Raph would be able to paint all the trim in this house without needing to lay down tape. Just one swipe of his hand and it would be a perfectly straight line.
Seth had seen his brother get a bullseye on a dartboard without
looking. He’d seen him make a half-court shot during the halftime show at a Nuggets game. Raph could juggle, he won every carnival game, he could thread a needle with frayed thread. Some people just had it, and whatever it was, Raph had it.
Seth was extremely grateful that his brother had agreed to help him out. If he hadn’t, the Sarah painting project would have taken twice as long. “I usually do, but I rescheduled because I really wanted to get a jump on Sarah’s house.”
“Why?”
Seth knew his brother well enough to know that there were actually a whole bunch of questions wrapped up in that ‘why’, so he chose to answer the easiest one.
“Because she was living in a pig sty with no end in sight. And I know that for a lot of people, if you don’t set up your house right away, it stays mediocre forever. And I’ve always liked this house. So, I wanted to help get it right.”
Raphael shook his head. “Right. You just got the itch to do a little random home improvement. It has nothing to do with your cute-ass neighbor.”
“She’s cute, but not my type. And no. My neighborly friendliness does not depend on whether or not the neighbor is cute, because I’m not a perv, like you.”
Raph continued on as if he’d barely heard Seth. “And it definitely doesn’t have anything to do with what happened with June. Right?”
There was a beat of silence. “June has nothing do with this.”
“You’re not doing anything to keep yourself busy while you get over her?”
Seth, scrubbing at the walls, refused to look at his brother. Sometimes it was so freaking annoying having a twin. And what was even worse than that? Having an intuitive twin. Who wouldn’t ever let anything rest.
“You know I’m not still getting over June, Raph,” Seth finally said quietly. “It wasn’t June that got me so down. It’s just the…”
“Inevitability?” Raphael supplied. “The fact that we’ll never get to have a girl in any meaningful way? The fact that any time we get close to someone we have absolutely no choice but to kick them to the curb? Yeah. That’s the part that gets to me, too.”
Seth grunted. Raphael’s aim was true when it came to a dartboard and when it came to telling the truth. Sometimes he hit the nail on the head so freaking hard that Seth felt cleaved in two.
“Yeah. I guess that’s it. Just kind of lonely, I guess.”
Raph nodded. “Me too, man. Why else would I crash out drunk in your guest room.”
“Because my guest room kicks ass,” Seth quipped, shooting for some levity. If they got to talking about all the things they could never have because of who they were… well, it always bummed them out. “And Sarah’s house is gonna kick ass too, if I have anything to do with it.”
“Seriously,” Sarah’s voice came from behind them. “Am I on a hidden camera HGTV show or something? Two hot twins fix up a neighbor’s house for free? Any minute some washed-up, aging star is going to emerge from my bathroom and shove a microphone in my face?”
Seth laughed and turned, but his laughter jammed in his throat the second he caught sight of her. She was so sweaty she was shiny, the end of her long ponytail darkened and wet where it lay over her shoulder. Her mouth was slightly open as she panted, her color high on her cheeks and her hands on her hips. She looked strong and active and holy shit, she smelled good. He caught that girl-sweat smell from all the way across the room and liked it. He couldn’t explain it and he sure couldn’t deny it, he just liked it.
She wasn’t model pretty. She was more muscular than thin. She was a little skeptical, a little surly, a lot hungry. But there was something about her standing there, flashing all sorts of toned lines and the straps of a sweaty sports bra.
He just liked it.
“Dang, girl,” Raph said. “You’ve been gone for a long time. How far did you run?”
She shrugged. “Not sure exactly, I didn’t track it. But I ran to that bike park and back. I think it’s called Valmont?”
Both brothers just stared at her for a second. Seth shook his head to get his brain jumpstarted again. “You ran to Valmont and back? That’s gotta be at least fourteen miles.”
She shrugged. “Cool.”
Seth looked at his watch. “You were only gone for a little over an hour and a half.”
She stared at him blankly as if to ask what’s your point?
He stared back at her. “That’s, like, a seven-minute mile. For fourteen miles.”
She shrugged again, this time a little sheepishly. “So, I’m a little out of shape. I’ve been taking a break for a few weeks.”
Seth and Raphael made eye contact, the surprise apparent on both their faces. “Sarah,” Seth said slowly. “I was complimenting you, not criticizing. A seven-minute mile is really fast. And to do fourteen of them? I mean, Jesus.”
“Oh.” She shifted from one foot to the other, like she wasn’t sure what to do with that information. “I need more friends,” she blurted. And then went instantly pink, covering her eyes with one hand. “That was awkward.”
Seth and Raph made eye contact again, this time while chuckling.
She brought her hand down. “What I meant is that the only friends I’ve ever really had are other really intense athletes and I’m kind of trying to… cleanse myself of that right now. And if I can’t even tell the difference between a compliment or a criticism, then I think I really need some friends to kind of, I don’t know, teach me about life. Normal life.”
“Well, you’ve got two friends standing right in front of you, girlie,” Raph said. “But if you want, why don’t we take you out later this week? We can get some dinner. There’s a few places where some of our friends usually hang out. We can introduce you around.”
Seth snapped his attention from Sarah’s hopeful face to his brother’s. “Where are you talking about?”
“Coretti’s.”
“What? No. We’re not taking her to Coretti’s.”
“Why not? They’ve got great pizza.”
“It’s a hook-up scene, Raph.”
“Um. So what?”
“Raph!”
“What’s wrong with a hook-up scene? She said she wanted to meet people. I assume that includes men.”
Seth put his hands on his hips. “Have you seen her? She’s obviously capable of meeting men on her own. She doesn’t need you to pimp her out.”
Raph laughed and cracked his neck to one side. “Taking her to a pizza joint at 6 pm on a random Tuesday or Wednesday night isn’t exactly the same as slapping some ripped up tights on her and making her march around on a street corner, okay? Coretti’s is fun! Who cares if it’s a hook-up scene?”
“Not me,” Sarah cut in. “Pizza sounds good. And I’m not exactly Virgin Mary. If your friends are gonna be there, I’m in.”
Seth’s brow furrowed. This had gotten out of hand very fast. “Sarah…”
“Seth, it’s fine. You think I can’t handle myself?”
Involuntarily, his gaze skated down her body. She was toned and soft and strong and a drop of sweat coasted over her golden chest and disappeared into her sports bra. She looked like an ancient Greek goddess of war. Ready to kick ass and have sex. He cleared his throat.
“Yeah. No. I mean, sure, we can go to Coretti’s.”
She nodded. “That’s great! Look, I’m gonna shower and then I’ll be back down to help.”
Seth turned back to the wall to finish up work, ignoring his brother’s gaze the entire time.
CHAPTER FOUR
Elizabeth drummed her fingers on her kitchen table as she eyed her visitor suspiciously. He sat at the far end of the table hunched over a bowl of soup. His posture was horrific, but his manners weren’t. He had a napkin on his lap and he’d thanked her when she’d slid the bowl in front of him. Though that might have been due to the pellet gun that, even now, sat between them on the table, Elizabeth’s free hand resting on the butt of the gun.
He’d been on her property for twenty-four hours. And she still couldn’t believe
what her eyes were showing her. She hadn’t let him sleep indoors; he was a strange man and she wasn’t a lunatic. But she’d rolled out a cot for him in the garage, tossing some old camping blankets onto it and locking him firmly out of her house.
She hadn’t known whether or not he’d be there in the morning. But sure enough, the second she’d started frying bacon that morning, he’d knocked on the door separating them. She’d opened it, gun in hand, to see him looking less haggard than the night before, but still terrible.
His face was lined with age and exhausted, carved out from months, maybe even years of hunger. His stringy, gray hair hung in his eyes and he swam in the old clothes of Jackson’s she’d given him. He had a self-sufficient look in his eye, but he jumped at any small sound in a way that made Elizabeth think of the hunted.
An entire day had passed, with him disappearing out the back door for most of it, and then returning at nightfall. Somehow, she’d known he would return.
She sighed and drummed her fingers some more. When she couldn’t take the silence a second longer, she walked over to the television and put on the news, sitting back in her seat at the dining room table.
An attractive young newscaster was pinching her brow at the camera. “Which will make him the third shifter this year to be sentenced to the death penalty. Earlier this year, Williams was convicted of first-degree murder when, in his shifter form of an alligator, he mauled a sixty-five-year-old woman to death. It has been a topic of great debate whether or not shifters should be tried in the same court of law as humans, or even if they should have the same legal rights as humans. The most complicating factor being that shifters cannot control their actions when they are in their shifter form.”
The man across the table made a low, growling sound of dissent that had Elizabeth glancing up at him. His attention was on the television with a sort of focus that made the hairs raise on Elizabeth’s arm.
“Following the sentencing, the White House released a statement once again urging all unregistered shifters to come forward and turn themselves in. The president reminded all citizens that the designated shifter camps were set up for a reason, to keep the public safe from shifters and to keep shifters safe from themselves.”
