“Sorry, Ty, but can we save the affection for later? I’m copping stares left, right, and center,” I tell him truthfully when we walk to class. I know it shouldn’t bother me so much, but it does.
“Screw them, Brooke!” he tells me. “You are mine, so I can do this, and they can all go to hell,” he declares before kissing me long and hard. When he pulls back, I swear I’m bright red and breathless but smiling widely. Those kinds of kisses make me forget all about the jealous assholes of the world.
Tyson drove me to school this morning, so after school, we are going back to his place—today is the one afternoon we are free this week. “See you in fifty minutes, angel,” Tyson tells me and kisses my hand as we reach my classroom.
“See you then,” I say feeling a little giddy. He goes above and beyond to make me feel special each and every day.
English is a hard one today; we are doing a practice exam. “You need to write and summarize three books that we have read this year,” Mr. Singer instructs as he hands us our paper exams.
I count my lucky stars that I love to read as I begin the test. I allow roughly fifteen minutes for each summary otherwise I won’t get them finished. With five minutes to spare, I’m done. Time for a quick read-through.
“Okay, everyone, pens down,” Mr. Singer announces, and I hear a few students object or complain. God, I hope I did okay. I must remember to get Tyson to quiz me on a few history questions today before he kisses me or I will be a hot mess otherwise.
The bell rings so I walk out with Jade and Ellie, two girls I’ve known since junior year. “Have you heard the rumor about Tyler and Chelsea?” Ellie asks me sounding eager to see my response. I have no idea what she is talking about.
“No, I haven’t heard a thing. What is this week’s rumor?” I question her intrigued.
“Well, apparently Chelsea is pregnant.” I think the blood drains from my face.
“Holy shit. She can’t be pregnant,” I reply hoping to God the rumor isn’t true. I can just imagine Tyler, then Jimmy’s reaction. Poor Rose, she is too young to be a grandma, and then there is Thomas, an uncle at fourteen. What the hell?
“Well, that is the rumor. Who knows if it’s true,” Ellie states.
“The other rumor is that Chelsea is lying to keep Tyler. They’ve been fighting a lot lately, and he wants to dump her,” Jade tells me. God, I hope that is the case.
Either way, Tyler is kind of screwed.
****
I decide not to mention what I heard about Chelsea and Tyler to Tyson just yet. I was actually waiting for him to bring it up, but it looks like the rumor mill didn’t get to him in record time like the previous gossip.
Driving to his place, I love sitting in Tyson’s pickup. Now that we are together, he insists I sit closer, and that is super closer on his bench seat. At traffic lights, he affectionately holds my hand and kisses my cheek.
As we head inside his house, I notice no one is home. “Do we have the place to ourselves?” It’s a rarity with his two brothers.
“Yep, we sure do. Mom is working until nine, Thomas is at practice till seven, and Tyler is at Chelsea’s for dinner.” Chelsea’s for dinner, huh? Wonder how that is working out for him?
Fine by me. I don’t think I will ever get sick of being around this guy. Tyson is a wonderful host and makes us both grilled cheese sandwiches and fresh juice.
“Should we watch a movie?” he asks so I nod. Lying with him on the couch in his arms sounds perfect to me. It’s the best way I can ask to make out with him without actually saying, ‘Let’s make out.’
“McFly?” he asks me laughing, and if I didn’t know him as well as I do, I would think he was nuts.
“Marty,” I respond knowing exactly which movie he means. We are both creatures of habit and enjoy watching our favorites a number of times. Tyson slides Back to the Future into the blu-ray player and makes himself comfy on the couch, leaving room for me.
I then make myself at home lying back in Tyson’s arms. I can’t help but inhale his masculine scent and aftershave. He rubs his hands, which are a little coarse from the hardware store along my arms, causing the hairs to stand up. So much for watching the movie. I’m now totally distracted as I shiver from the feeling.
“How am I supposed to watch if you are going to distract me?” I say, turning around to give him the evil eye.
“You won’t miss the whole movie,” he whispers and then his lips are on mine. He kisses me as if he hasn’t seen me in weeks. His kiss is passionate and intense. I kiss him back with the same ferocity. We are so drawn to each other and savor each other’s taste and touch. His hands caress my neck as he rubs his thumbs gently up and down, then through my hair massaging my scalp. I smile through our kiss as more goose bumps run up my arm, along my head, and I shiver as it hits my spine. I pull back to catch my breath, or I may suffocate.
“Jesus, Tyson, I need a minute,” I say feeling breathless yet still smiling.
“I’m glad I have that effect on you,” he states, and the smile on his face is huge. “I’m totally bewitched by you, Brooklyn. You are breathtakingly beautiful,” he tells me, and I melt from his words alone. I bite my lip wondering how I got so lucky.
“My heart races when I’m near you. Hell, you don’t even need to touch me, and I melt,” Tyson continues to compliment me.
“Tyson Caine, you are unlike any other guy I’ve met. Your momma sure brought you up the right way.” I’m feeling overwhelmed by the beautiful words he has said to me.
“If you could read my thoughts right now, you wouldn’t be saying that,” he jokes back to me.
“Even your dirty thoughts would still be sweet and charming. I know you better than anyone,” I respond stirring him.
“Oh, is that so?” From the lust in his eyes, I think he is about to prove me wrong. Holy shit.
His lips find mine again; his hunger is so intense, and the goose bumps get me every single time. I feel frenzied and eager for more when I’m in his arms. I’m caught up in the moment when he kisses me; our lips mould together perfectly.
I can’t help but squeeze my legs together, as my core is ablaze with need and his assault. Every ounce of my skin is on fire, scorching hot and feverish as our tongues dance together. His hand travels up my top along my naked flesh. I moan as his hand travels higher and skims my breast. That is the first time we have gone this far.
I crave every inch of him. My desire hits me hard; suddenly, I’m so thirsty for him, so hungry for his touch. He caresses my breasts some more, and I pull back from his kiss and nestle into his neck, kissing him softly but feeling tempted to bite. I forget about everything else in the world. Right now, it’s just him and me. His hand travels under my bra and when his finger touches my breast and grazes my nipple, I jump from the sensation.
“Everything about you is amazing, Brooklyn. I cherish you,” he tells me as I keep kissing his neck. My hand travels down his t-shirt and underneath to his abs. His bare flesh is so warm, smooth, and cut to perfection.
Oh God, how on earth will I stop him if he goes any further?
I rub softly along his stomach feeling his toned body; it’s so intimate our bare skin touching. I kiss my way up his neck to his cheek and find his lips again. He kisses me hard and positions me so he is lying over me slightly. I eagerly lie back as he slowly climbs on top, not putting his whole weight on me.
I’m surprised when I feel the bulge in his pants. It makes me wet knowing he is hard for me. He kisses my neck, along my chest making me shiver. He lifts my shirt up slightly and places delicate kisses on my stomach.
I can’t help but moan. It’s so nice, new and foreign yet smoking hot all at once. Tyson lifts my top higher. His eyes find mine; they’ve gotten dark with lust. He places soft kisses over my bra while his hand massages my breast again making me squirm. He slightly pulls the lace down exposing my naked nipple and the cool air makes me jump. He looks at it as a prize meal, and then his mouth is on my nipple. He kisses, licks,
and sucks ever so softly.
Jesus Christ, this is amazing.
I find my knee on his crotch massaging his hardness. I can’t stop myself. He takes his time with each breast, then covers them up and pulls down my shirt. He takes a deep breath.
“God Brooke, do you know how good you taste?” he asks me smiling.
“I don’t think I can control myself if I don’t stop now,” he admits to me, and I nod as I know exactly what he means.
“I know the feeling. We have so much time to explore and be with each other Tyson. I want it to be perfect,” I tell him, and I mean every word. Our first time will be utter perfection.
We lay for the next hour just staring into each other’s eyes.
There is no doubt in my mind that we are soul mates. We’re destined to be together.
Why the fuck am I the last one to hear about the rumors involving me? Is Chelsea really pregnant? She is on birth control. Well, at least she told me she was.
I’m starting to see her true colors, and they aren’t all rainbows and sunshine. Every time we are out together, she makes sure it’s posted on Facebook or Instagram, and I’ve had it with the damn selfies posted everywhere. Is it all for popularity status?
I actually had feelings for her at one time. But that’s in the past now. Her fakeness is oozing all over everything. I might have a reputation for being a womanizer, and sure, I love the ladies, but some of them who are claiming we’ve had sex are lying. I just haven’t called them out on it.
Let the world think what they want. Fuck them. Fuck my father who will never be proud of me. Fuck the haters who are jealous. Fuck Tyson, who is the golden child.
And screw that new chick in my science class who won’t give me the time of day.
She has these dark brown almost black eyes and short spiky blond hair—her style is funky. I think she is grunge. Her three piercings in one ear are hot, and she is nothing like my usual type. But normal is becoming boring. Chelsea is boring, and a little scary, but still boring.
If I end our relationship, will Chelsea become the psycho ex that I’ve heard about? Maybe I should wait until after prom and exams.
Don’t be gutless, do it now, my subconscious is telling me. The longer you leave things, the worse it gets.
First thing first, I’m buying a pregnancy test and making her take it.
“So what, it was just a little fight,” I tell Mom when I arrive home from school. Today really sucked. Damn teachers, do they really have to call your parents immediately? I mean it was a stupid fight, and there was no blood, so it was nothing major.
“Come on, Tommy, you can talk to me. This is your first real fight. Is someone hassling you at school? Did you stick up for one of your friends?” Mom asks me trying to get to the bottom of my out-of-character behavior.
“No, it’s none of those things. Marco is just a loser. He tripped me on the field, and I lost my cool,” I tell her honestly, forgetting the part about me mouthing off to him first.
“Your teacher has noticed that you seem more aggressive in class, and your coach agrees,” Mom states, and I have to agree with her. I’m feeling a lot of pent-up anger, frustration, and isolated lately.
“They are suspending you for two days, Tom. That is not something little. They obviously think the suspension is the correct punishment, so why don’t you?” I just shrug my shoulders. I don’t have any answers right now.
“Well, you will be coming with us in the morning since we have a meeting with your principal, Mr. Arnold, at ten.” I cringe at the thought as I know Dad will be coming. It’s going to be a nightmare.
“Okay, I will be ready,” I tell her feeling anxious. Our new principal is cracking down on a lot of things and fighting is one of them.
We all make mistakes. God, I’m only human, but I’m constantly compared to my older brothers. Tyson hasn’t gotten in a fight on school grounds. Now, he has another one-up on Tyler and on me…
I’m fourteen, not ten. Why do they treat me like I’m breakable, like I’m still in diapers? I’m not allowed to go to parties, which is so unfair. Some days, it feels like no one understands me. God, I hate being the youngest. I get called squirt, small fry, and runt. Some days, the only thing that keeps me going is Mom and her kind words. I’m so lucky to have her—we all are.
Her words ‘I love you Tommy,’ and ‘You were the last, but my most amazing creation,’ and ‘I had three tries to get the perfect son,’ is exactly what I need to hear. Mom tells me these things frequently. Even if it’s all bullshit, I love her words. I need them to boost my confidence. It’s true what they say, sibling rivalry is a bitch.
Fourteen is a frustrating age, but it totally sucks living in the shadows of Tyler, the best quarterback and womanizer in Indiana, and Tyson, the king of perfection—the guy is incredible.
Another thing confusing the shit out of me are girls! They are becoming so much more interesting and hot, but I can’t talk to Mom about them. Tyler is all about trying to score, and well, Tyson just has his first girlfriend now, so what would he know?
Speaking of that, damn Brooklyn is getting hot. He is damn lucky he snapped her up before someone scooped her up first.
****
“You get your ass in the truck, Thomas James Caine!” Dad shouts angrily. Here we go.
I cringe at the sound of his angry voice and run cowering out to the truck. I hastily climb in, buckling my seat belt. I didn’t mean to keep them waiting; we have plenty of time to get there, it’s just Dad and his usual over-the-top intensity.
Mom turns around to look at me and smiles slightly. Her smile, even though it’s small, helps to calm my nerves just a little.
“Now, you keep your mouth shut in this meeting, Thomas. It's ‘yes sir’ and ‘no sir.’ No smart mouthing like your brother, got it?” he states to me.
I nod. He really thinks I’ve gone crazy and turned into Tyler.
Well, sure, the thought has crossed my mind. Let loose and live a little—I could handle running around and having fun. But with Jimmy Caine as your father, you gotta have balls of steel for that and going head to head with him is not on my bucket list. Ever.
We arrive early and walk up to the front office. I’m dressed in my black dress pants and pale blue shirt. These clothes are usually reserved for court, weddings, or funerals.
We sit anxiously in the waiting room. Jimmy is bouncing his knee looking agitated. I think back to last night. He was drinking rum. I went to bed when he started arguing with Mom. I’ve learned to put in my headphones and listen to music, so I don’t have to hear them.
It’s just too much for me sometimes. The more I hear him treat her like shit, the more I feel angry, and those thoughts are not healthy. Is it normal for a teenager to wish his father was dead? To wish he would just stop all of the hostility.
So the headphones are how I tune out. I don’t like my options.
“Mr. and Mrs. Caine, Mr. Arnold will see you now,” the receptionist announces to the three of us. I swallow the lump in my throat, a little unsure of what to expect from this meeting.
We make our way into his office. “Thank you for coming today, Mr. and Mrs. Caine, Thomas. Please take a seat,” Mr. Arnold tells us as we all sit.
“Now, we know we are here because there was a fight with Thomas and another boy. I’m new to the school, but I take fighting and bullying very seriously,” Mr. Arnold states to us all. Bullying. Is this guy for real?
“I have spoken with Thomas’s teachers and football coach, and they have said he is becoming more aggressive in class, during physical activities, and even at football practice,” he adds, and I can practically see the smoke swirling in Dad’s ears. He will lose his cool either with Mr. Arnold or with me.
“We are suspending Thomas for two days starting tomorrow. Now, unfortunately, that will mean missing two football practices too,” he continues to add salt to my wound.
“Can I please say something?” my mother questions Mr. Arnold. I see Dad’s e
yes widen in shock. He does not like it when she is vocal.
“Of course, Mrs. Caine, go right ahead,” he replies smiling at her request.
“Well, I’m sure you know that this is Thomas’s first misdemeanor. He has an impeccable record, and he is a good kid. Why is he getting such a harsh punishment instead of a first warning or second chance?” God, I love my mother twenty percent more today. Her question is legit and true.
“I can understand how you feel; the fact of the matter is that this is more lenient than what others would receive. Usually, it’s a four-day suspension. I believe that by being strict from the start, we set a high expectation,” Mr. Arnold states always having an answer for everything.
“So you are setting an example of my son to show others that fighting will not be taken lightly?” Mom questions him looking unimpressed.
“No, this is standard policy,” he responds obviously pissed with Mom’s comment.
“That’s enough, Rose,” Dad orders.
“Thomas broke the school rules, and he needs to be punished. I, myself, am a very strict father, and I understand the need for authority and discipline, so you will have no arguments from me.” Dad agrees with Mr. Arnold. Why am I not surprised?
I see a lonely tear stream down Mom’s cheek. They are such different people.
We leave the office in silence. I can’t think of anything to say. What’s done is done.
The trip home is also silent, very uncomfortable. As we get out of the truck, I don’t expect what comes next.
“Rose, go inside,” Dad states to Mom pointing to the house. She looks shocked and sad.
The next thing I know, Dad has me around the neck. He drags me into the shed and throws me onto the dirt. Then he locks the doors. Holy shit, what the hell is he going to do?
TYSON CAINE: Book 1 in the Brothers in Arms Series (Brothers in Arms Book 1) Page 11
