Loving Siblings: Aidan & Dionne

by Catharina Shields

  He recalled how his heart lurched when she descended the stairs that afternoon. He recalled thinking she looked really sexy and beautiful. And although she always looked sexy and beautiful in his eyes—ever since he could remember noticing things like that—she looked doubly so after she’d sent him to heaven and beyond with her gentle seduction and . . . skill.

  She had looked stunning in her sleeveless, round-collar white cotton top with delicate button front and eyelet cut-outs. Her hips and legs were further complimented by her stonewashed, Capris-style jeans, but even if she wore a gunnysack with cut-outs, she couldn’t look more breathtaking to him than she did at that moment. Her figure had always been, to him, dick-hardening sexy no matter what she wore, but she’d looked absolutely amazing then.

  Although her clothes were always simple, lacking the more lavish cuts and designs most girls preferred in the era of innerwear as outerwear, Dionne always looked beautiful in all her simplicity, especially when he spotted how her simple, somewhat cropped top billowed a bit to show a little of her smooth, soft waist.

  Although her skin was a pale ivory color, her clothes had somehow made it seem as if she’d been airbrushed to perfection. Then again, Dionne has always had good skin . . .

  He damn well knew he wasn’t being objective, and that he was seeing her through the eyes of a lover, but that was his prerogative simply because Dionne has always been his girl—even though she still didn’t seem to understand that.

  He’d just exited the basement when he saw her descend the stairs that fateful afternoon. It was after her shower, long after their shared experience by the poolside. He recalled how his heart thudded with silent idolization. He’d stopped in his tracks as he watched her take the stairs with swift feet, knowing she hadn’t yet noticed him below.

  Her long golden-brown mane was swept and held back by a wide, white elastic hair band. She nearly hopped down the stairs, playfully jumping the last steps, and she made him smile when he saw that rare, carefree side of her.

  With a hand on the newel post she’d swept around, but she’d abruptly stopped when she finally noticed him. She really did look like a doe caught in the headlights. He had quickly produced a smile, and she had returned a shy and somewhat flustered one, but he loved seeing the color in her pretty face when he came over to her and slipped an arm around her waist.

  He was captivated by her, enjoying the sensation of feeling the soft, warm skin of his sister’s waist against his bare arm as he pulled her closer to him. Her shyness only endeared him that much more, compelling him to try for a kiss. And he gave in.

  But she stopped him.

  “Aidan stop. Someone might see,” she had told him.

  “Good point. Let’s go downstairs,” he had whispered back. He had bent his head, making her giggle uncomfortably, as he kissed her cheek, moving his full lips along the side of her neck. He swore she tasted like warm honey.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she had said, putting hands against his chest and gently pushing him back.

  He recalled being confused. “Why? There’s more privacy in my room—”

  Then the doorbell rang, and everything went to hell from that moment forward.

  He hadn’t heard it at first. He was too busy trying to seduce his sister into coming with him to his room downstairs. But she had heard it, and when his lips reached for hers, she suddenly pulled back as she frowned up at him.

  “What?” he had asked.

  “I have to answer it,” she answered.

  His head was spinning being so close to her that he was absolutely dense, and he must’ve looked it because she had laughed softly.

  “The door, Aidan. I have to answer the door—”

  “—No, you don’t,” he had cut in. “C’mon Dionne, let’s go downstairs to my room,” he had said, and was already busy corralling her to the basement door, but she shook her head and even set her hands on his arms before she pushed them firmly down, freeing herself.

  “Cut it out, Aidan,” she had giggled, and he sighed. Loudly.

  She had laughed softly before she turned and went to answer the door. He recalled looking longingly at the basement door for a moment before he turned to watch her rush to the door; his gaze sweeping down her body paying extra attention to her nice tush.

  But his smile had vanished when he realized who it was at the door. Dionne had opened it to reveal his arch rival, tall, tawny-haired, and dorky—his take—standing on the doorstep. He never hated a guy more than he had hated Helbutt at that moment.

  “Hey Helly!” Dionne had said in surprise. Her cry had a giggly quality to it.

  He had felt himself burn with jealousy, but he got outright furious when he saw she had pulled herself up on her toes with heartrending intent—heartrending for him, and what had him see red.

  As if to prolong the agony, he recalled seeing everything happening in slow motion. He had watched how her lips pressed a kiss on Hel-shit’s pathetically thin lips before she dropped back while that blond gorilla whispered something that had her fluster, and him, seething.

  His blue eyes had sparked and burned as he stiffly watched how the future doctor-to-be wrapped an arm around his Dionne. His fists had balled tightly when he watched as dorky-boy pulled his sister against him for a real kiss while Dionne had put fingers against his chest to stop him.

  “Oh wait! I forgot to tell Mom I won’t be home for dinner tonight!” she had said, and wrestled out of Helbutthead’s one-arm embrace. She had turned to go into the living room, but paused when she saw the anger in his face; one he couldn’t and wouldn’t, hide. She must’ve seen he was on the verge of doing something really stupid—which he was--because she quickly moved to defuse him.

  Behind her, Helclueless had closed the door as he sent him a smile and nod as greeting. But he wasn’t feeling the least bit charitable toward the intruder. He had merely glared back with, what he hoped, was the most chilling look he could muster. It did the trick. Helmutt had stopped in his tracks and blushed in discomfort.

  He had been so caught up with glaring down and intimidating his rival, that he hadn’t noticed Dionne had come up to him.

  “Stop it, Aidan!” she had admonished beneath her breath. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He had looked down at her concerned face. She wasn’t angry or upset. She was concerned. It was then when he knew the painful truth; that she damn well knew what she was doing, although his heart and head wouldn’t allow him to see it because it would mean she had a change of mind.

  At that moment, he knew, it was the start of the worst week of his life. And as he returned to the here and now, listening to her angry feet stomping down the stairs, he knew it was going to finally come to head.

  **~~**

  Chapter Ten: Dionne’s Dilemma Unfolds

  It’s been little over a week since that Saturday, and Dionne was bone-tired by the time she exited her maroon Prelude. But tired or not, the moment she saw her brother’s sporty black CRX parked in the open garage, she forced herself to stand straight, scraping every ounce of energy and courage she had left in order to put up her façade.

  She had to keep up the charade, one she’d been playing for the past week, but it was really starting to negatively affect her. She was stiff all over, aching like you wouldn’t believe, and tired enough to sleep for a week, but she’d be damned if she’d show how much she’d been suffering.

  Jesus! Why did he have to be home now? She just couldn’t catch a freaking break, and she didn’t know how much more of this she could handle before she’d finally crack under the pressure. Maybe she should take Dad up on his offer to pay her an allowance so she wouldn’t have to work for a measly $3.25 an hour plus a meager 10% commission.

  It really wasn’t worth banging herself up over anymore.

  Yeah, she was feeling sorry for herself. Although that wasn’t really her style, she believed current circumstances gave her that right. The pressures left her lethargic, even stressed
out. She was positive it was more of a mental than physical condition since she usually had the constitution of an ox, and she normally didn’t have this much on her head.

  Apparently, her little brother was suffering the same affliction. He was, much like her those days, listless and tired all the time. But she darn well knew why. She felt bad about it, too. She should’ve never put this kind of pressure on him. How could she be so stupid, so immature, and so callous? All because of vanity? Was she really that pathetic? And selfish?

  “Yeah,” her conscience whispered in her head. “You sure are.”

  When she finally entered the cool house, she found her normally energetic brother practically lying down in one of the big leather armchairs in the living room. And that wasn’t happy she saw on his handsome face, either.

  He was zapping through channels, pretty much keeping true to his newfound habit of ignoring her. It hurt her since he had no problem lavishing everyone else with his stunning smiles, laughter, and tease. She had to admit it. She missed it. A lot.

  Normally, when she’d enter the house and saw him home, she’d go straight up to her room to avoid him and the uneasiness she’d been feeling when she was around him. Although that uneasiness stemmed from a self-inflicted problem, it was still pretty unbearable.

  Now, however, she thought it was time they resolved this matter. Enough was enough, and she knew this really couldn’t go on any longer. It would tear them both apart. It wasn’t good for the rest of the family, either.

  So she paused in the main hall thinking it was time to bury the hatchet, and she made her decision. They needed to talk, and although she darn well knew he’d seen her come home, he didn’t even look up when she entered the living room. And although the volume to the television was up high, she was sure he knew she was there.

  “Hi, Aidan,” she greeted as chipper as she could, but he didn’t even flinch. She felt an overwhelming urge to just turn tail and head for her attic room, but she made the decision to make things right, and she would see it through. Or, at least, give it her best shot. She knew how stubborn her younger brother could be, but things really had to change.

  “How was your day?” she tried again.

  No answer. She felt a lump in her throat, and cleared it.

  “Is Mom in?” she asked, still hoping for a response to break the ice.

  And it finally came, but it was anything but pleasant.

  “Did you see the white Van in the drive, then?” he said.

  Okay, it was a sarcastic response, but it was a response, nevertheless.

  She stared at his belligerent and stark profile, but he didn’t even bother to look at her. The signs weren’t good. Aidan was clearly much too upset for her to try to reason with him now. Dad had warned her that he was a bit grouchy those days since the school he was hoping to attend in fall hadn’t written back. But she didn’t believe that was the main reason for his grouchy disposition, although it could have influenced it.

  “Right,” she said quietly. “I see you’re busy. I’m sorry I’ve bothered you.”

  Again, no response.

  Hurt by being so coldly dismissed, and not knowing what else to say or do since it was clear Aidan was hell-bent on being cantankerous, she turned and left the room. She decided it wasn’t a good moment anyway, because she was just too tired to have it out with him. She’d give it another try when she was feeling less kaput.

  She wasn’t sleeping well—still trying to get used to noc shift in addition to coming to terms with her place in her younger brother’s life—and she really needed some extra shut-eye. Rest was important now, and she’d spend what little time she had getting some rather than picking a fight with Aidan.

  She knew she had to talk to him, though, and she really had planned to do that right after that poolside fiasco, but then an unexpected, hectic week bore down on her like an out of control locomotive, and she just didn’t get a chance.

  When she finally made it to her attic room, and barely set a foot over the threshold, she suddenly froze. She instantly felt her entire body sizzle—and then explode. Energy returned full force—by way of an explosive temper born out of a ripped open wound—when she spotted her rumpled bedcovers.

  “That’s IT!” she hissed before she snapped around and stalked toward the stairs before angrily taking them.

  **~~**

  Aidan hadn’t moved. He was exactly where she’d left him, and in exactly the same pose. Filled with rage and fury, born out of fatigue and stress, she was more than a little upset, and he was going to know he’d picked the wrong day to piss her off!

  She had just about all she could take of his antics and pain-in-the-ass attitude!

  All the hurt she felt came crashing down on her like a ton of bricks—bricks made out of ice. Clearly, someone had lain in her bed, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know who that person was, or who those persons were.

  Aidan and one of his sex-sluts.

  There was no doubt in her mind. Her room smelled of him. She’d recognize his scent anywhere. It was a sensual, musky scent combined with his fresh deodorant, and it never failed to make her dizzier than anything in the world. No. There was no doubt in her mind he’d been in her room—with Candace, no doubt!

  Her blood boiled. Her white summer skirt swayed aggressively around her bare legs when she came to an abrupt halt beside the armchair while he continued to act like he didn’t notice she was there. She only realized she was still holding her book bag when it dropped from trembling fingers with a thump on the floor.

  Her fists balled tightly, but she stuck them in her sides as she tried, really hard, not to punch him! Then, angering herself more for even considering another physical act of violence toward another, she took a deep breath and calmed herself.

  A little.

  “Aidan,” she began, trying her darnedest to control her tone. “Please tell me you didn’t bring one of your sl—girlfriends up to my room? You didn’t, did you? You wouldn’t disrespect my privacy like that, now would you?”

  She tried really hard not to, but she was clearly having trouble not gnashing her teeth. What made it extra difficult was . . . he was still ignoring her!

  “Aidan?”

  “Nope,” he finally answered.

  She swore she saw red. “What part of what I said—?”

  “—Asked.”

  “—asked are you answering “nope” to?” she finished without a hitch.

  He sighed, exasperated. “All of the above.”

  She lost it.

  “Oooh you—you LIAR!”

  He gave her an insultingly brief and disinterested look before he tossed the remote onto the coffee table, and got up. She stepped back when he towered over her, but he didn’t immediately pass her, as she expected him to. Instead, he paused to lean down, forcing her to bend back.

  He looked her straight in her angry eyes. “I’m. Not. Lying,” he stressed each and every word. “You wouldn’t disrespect me by stubbornly calling me a liar in my face after I told you the truth, would you?”

  “How do I even know you’re telling me the truth—?”

  “—I didn’t take any girl up to your room to fuck in your bed, alright? Clear now?”

  She started by that crude word and blinked big, angry eyes up at him. When he was done, he rounded her and strolled toward the kitchen as calm, cool, and freakin’ collected as could be!

  “I don’t believe you!” she shouted after him.

  “I really don’t care. You got your answer. Now leave me alone,” he said before he disappeared into the kitchen.

  Oh, but if he thought they were done, he had another thing coming!

  She followed him into the kitchen with heart pounding and blood pressure high enough to burst an artery. She entered just in time to see him close the fridge after helping himself to a bottle of Cola, and he twisted off the cap as he looked straight at her without revealing his thoughts.

  Her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared.<
br />
  “Still here?” he honed. “Thought I told you to leave me alone—”

  “—I’m warning you, Aidan,” she hissed, “you bring another one of your easy sl–girls to my room, and so help me—!”

  “—I already told you,” he cut her off with a tone that silenced her. “I didn’t. So chill and get off my back, Dionne.” He glared tightly at her. “Why don’t you do what you do best, and go run and hide up in your little ivory tower and lock yourself up for the rest of the day until Prince Helshit comes to rescue you from the big bad dragon? That’s what you want to do right now, don’t you? Run from me? Well, do it.”

  Ignoring his taunts and sarcastic remarks, she narrowed eyes. “Are you going to stand there and tell me with a straight face you haven’t been up in my room?”

  “Nope. I’m standing here telling you I haven’t taken any girl up to your room since the last time,” he said calmly, gazing at the disapproval on her pretty face as he brought his bottle of soda to his lips. “Satisfied?” He popped brows before he took a good swig.

  “Why should I believe you?” she asked. Her tone was softer, even if her look wasn’t.

  He lowered his bottle and looked at her with mild interest.

  “That hurts,” he said, unconvincingly.

  “Yes,” she tossed back, “I can see you’re suffering something awful.”

  He remained silent and just stood there, tapping the bottle against his stomach. “Is this what you really wanna do, Dionne?” he asked.

  She suddenly felt overwhelmed and overly sensitive, and adding insult to injury, she felt hot tears burn behind her eyes. She was pushed to her limits and on the verge of coming apart at the seams, but she knew she had to keep it together for just a little while longer.

  At least until she can make it up to her room and . . . lock herself up.