Under the Orange Moon

by Adrienne Frances

  “I know I should, but—” Dylan shrugged, “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t force feelings you don’t have,” Meredith warned. “You’ll just hurt him more in the end.”

  Dylan nodded as she put on her shoes. “I know.”

  Linda didn’t leave very often, but, when she did, she was well aware that the boys would stay in and drink themselves stupid. She didn’t mind this now. Just the thought that they were noisily filling up her home once again sent warm feelings through her heart.

  Charlie passed around bottles of beer as they all relaxed in the living room. With everyone present, even Ben, Dylan knew this was going to be a long night full of boozing and vulgar language.

  “Where’s Mom at anyway?” Jonah asked, sitting on the couch with his legs stretched out into the middle of the room.

  “She went out with a few friends,” Brandon answered. He slapped Charlie on the back of the head. “Use a coaster.”

  “Isn’t Michael coming?” Dylan asked.

  “Who invited Oilie?” Ben asked with a scowl.

  “I did,” Charlie announced. “He likes Weed. I thought I’d help him out.”

  “That idiot? Seriously?” Ben snapped, catching himself immediately after. His voice grew calmer, as he asked, “You want your sister with that guy?”

  “Why not?” asked Hugh. “He’s a good guy. Successful.”

  “He owns a bar,” Ben half-laughed, choking on his resentment. “I wouldn’t call that successful.”

  Dylan sighed and rolled her eyes. “Why is this in discussion right now?”

  “Because we want you to date Olerson, that’s why,” Jonah teased.

  The doorbell rang, causing Dylan to jump to her feet and Ben’s throat to tighten. She turned and scolded her brothers and Ben at the same time. “Behave,” she warned, before heading to the front door.

  She returned with Michael in tow, smiling as everyone, all except Ben, greeted him loudly. Ben wouldn’t lower himself to say hello; there was simply no point in acting as if you liked someone you despised.

  Dylan sat down on the floor beside Brandon. Ben watched as she stretched out in front of him. He wanted to punch Michael in the face when he realized that, like him, he too was admiring her long, tan legs.

  The group sat and chatted for hours, drinking until the beer was just about gone. They had a lot to catch up on and they knew that for certain. The fond feeling of history repeating seemed to hang over them all as they all understood that these times didn’t come as often as they should.

  This was their club in a way. Once a group of boys that would build pipe bombs and ramps in the garage, they were now a camaraderie of men that had history like no other and a bond that could never be broken.

  Despite the lack of blood, Ben was just as much a part of this brotherhood as Jonah or the rest. This was his family as well, but Ben looked at Dylan in such a different light. Could he go that far and get away with it? No. He knew the answer; he could not.

  The more that Ben drank, the more irritated he seemed to be at Michael’s presence. Every so often he would glare over to where Michael and Dylan sat, exiled from the reminiscent conversations and forced to come up with their own topics of discussion.

  The night came and consumed the desert sky with black. Michael looked out the window and Ben knew without a doubt his brain was in motion. This would be the moment the asshole would turn to Dylan and suggest a walk or something romantic like that, Ben thought.

  Like clockwork, he watched as Michael worked up the nerve to whisper to Dylan, and together they walked out of the room. They disappeared into the kitchen and Ben wanted nothing more than to follow them and listen to every word that Oilie used to seduce her. He stood up and followed them, pretending to use the bathroom so he could hear what they were saying.

  “I like hot cider better than tea,” he heard Michael say.

  He couldn’t help but roll his eyes and mouth the word “pansy” from the other side of the bathroom door.

  “Well, I’ll make both then,” Dylan politely gave in. “I’m sure you want whisky in yours?”

  “Yes please,” Michael agreed. “You know me so well.”

  Ben wanted to gag. He decided he had heard enough and flushed the toilet so that he still appeared to be in the bathroom for reasons other than eavesdropping. He quickly slipped back into the living room and took his seat on the couch.

  Dylan and Michael appeared in the room with thermoses in their hands. They both put their shoes on and headed for the door.

  “Where are you guys going?” Jonah asked.

  “The moon is orange.” Dylan grabbed a blanket and turned to look at all of them. “There’s enough tea and hot cider for everyone. Did you drunks want to join us?”

  Michael shook his head at all of them from behind Dylan, a silent but obvious request to be alone with her. If it had been anyone else, the Mathews boys would have all gone outside and hovered over their sister, guarding and protecting her from the perverse idiot that wanted alone time with her. But this was Michael Olerson and, for whatever reason, only he could successfully ask them to back off.

  “I’m going to bed,” Charlie answered with a drunken grin. “Goodnight.”

  “I’m going to throw up,” Brandon announced as he staggered up the stairs.

  Hugh said nothing as he climbed the steps behind Brandon.

  Jonah leaned back against the couch with a smile. “Thanks for the offer, but Mom will be home soon and I want food before I sleep.”

  “I’ll go,” Ben announced, defying Michael. He stood to his feet and grabbed his sweatshirt. “What are you drinking, Dylan?”

  The disbelief in Michael’s eyes transitioned back and forth between shock and rage. Everyone knew that Ben could be a jerk. Stooping this low was not something out of the norm for him, so he couldn’t understand the look on Michael’s face.

  “Tea,” Dylan replied. “Do you want some?”

  “Yes,” Ben answered with a devilish smile, an air punch into Michael’s gut. Serves him right. Ben knew what he was up to. “I’d love some.”

  Dylan poured the hot tea into a thermos for Ben and smiled with a confused expression that only he could adore. “I didn’t know you liked tea.” She handed it over to him with a puzzled smirk.

  “I like it better than cider,” he replied flirtatiously. He could feel the evil glares from Michael, which only satisfied him that much more.

  Jonah shook his head and chuckled at Ben’s rude behavior, but he would never dare tell him to stop. Jonah would always agree with Ben. “Have fun watching the moon.”

  The once pair and their third wheel walked through the sliding glass door and headed into the backyard. Dylan sat down on her blanket with a guy on each side. She looked up at the moon and sighed delicately.

  Michael pointed up, and said, “There’s the constellation of Fenix.” His finger guided along, making the shape that Dylan tried to see. “Do you see it?”

  Dylan laughed. “No.”

  Ben watched in amusement as Michael worked hard to keep Dylan’s attention. He knew better than anyone that constellations were not a way to impress her. This was a definite one-up in his direction, knowing her inside and out with a history that went as far back as he could remember.

  “Hey, did you know that the moon looks orange right now because of the pollution in the atmosphere?” Michael asked stupidly with growing desperation.

  “Really?” Dylan asked, looking up into the sky. She was obviously trying to be polite. “That is interesting, but sad at the same time. I like an orange moon for different reasons. I’d rather not know about the scientific explanations of it.”

  With an evil gloat, Ben smiled victoriously and scooted closer to her, practically sticking his tongue out at Michael. The orange moon did nothing but give her a reminiscent feeling of her father, Carl, whenever it came out for its rare appearance. Ben knew this well, and he knew exactly why Dylan looked at the moon the way she did on that night
. Normally, this would make him sad for her, but he secretly thanked Carl for granting him this triumph over Oilie.

  “Oilie, shut it. You’re ruining the moment,” Ben harassed.

  “What moment?” Dylan asked with a careful smile.

  Michael laughed uncomfortably, stiffening his body in frustration. “Ben here thinks everything with him is a moment. He doesn’t realize that we could care less if he’s here or not.”

  “You may not care that I’m here, Oilie,” Ben jabbed. He grinned at Dylan as if to point out her smile. “Dylan’s always happy when I’m around.”

  “Sure,” Dylan teased, elbowing Ben and leaning into him with a lighthearted laugh.

  Fueled by Ben’s hovering and constant shadowing, Michael swallowed hard like a nervous loser and reached over to pull Dylan’s hand from her lap. Ben waited and watched for Dylan to let go awkwardly, but she didn’t. She actually hung onto Oilies hand and continued to watch the orange moon, sickening Ben to the point of seething aggravation.

  Not quite defeated, Ben scooted even closer to Dylan and allowed his arm to just barely touch hers. He matched her breathing and moved with her as he hoped she would find the feeling of him beside her as pleasant as he felt. That’s my hand, he thought.

  Dylan could feel the silent competition between the two of them. She understood the threat that Michael was feeling, but, for the life of her, she could not figure out Ben’s motives. She chalked it up to intoxication.

  Michael sighed loudly. He looked Dylan’s way and smiled. “Do you want to go for a walk alone?” She knew that last part was meant for Ben’s ears.

  “That’s a terrible idea. Her brothers wouldn’t like that,” Ben answered for her. He looked Michael up and down with a raised brow full of dramatic suspicion. “You never know with certain people.”

  “What?” Dylan laughed in disbelief. This was getting ridiculous. “Ben, shut up,” she scolded.

  Michael stood to his feet and held out his other hand. “Let’s go,” he demanded politely. He looked at Ben, and said, “You’re not invited.”

  Dylan knew what he wanted. It made her stomach sink just the thought of kissing Michael. Would he really go that far in one night? He was already displaying actions she never thought possible, shocking her forever with even the hand holding. She had been thankful when he let it go to stand. The sweat on his palms was simply too annoying for words. Or maybe that was her sweat, a reaction against the hand she didn’t want to hold.

  “Michael, I’m tired. I was thinking about just calling it a night,” Dylan answered like a coward.

  “Some other time then,” he said, disappointed.

  Ben stood to his feet and flashed a wide, satisfied grin. “Have a good one, Oilie.” He pulled at Dylan’s shirt and headed up the steps of the patio.

  “I’m going to walk him to his car,” Dylan said to Ben, pulling her shirt back from his hand and slapping him with an evil glare. He was like a dog chewing on her pant leg.

  Ben froze on the steps. He glared at them both and pressed his teeth onto his lower lip, a movement of his that Dylan knew well. He was trying to shut himself up.

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” Dylan snapped at Ben when he hadn’t moved.

  As Dylan and Michael headed around to the front yard, Dylan could feel him moving closer. She prepared herself for his attempt and contemplated dodging it when it finally came.

  “So, thanks for having me,” Michael said when they reached his car. He moved in close, sending Dylan’s face back. He kissed her on the cheek and pulled back with a smile. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight,” she replied, wishing she felt disappointed. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

  As Michael drove off, Dylan walked back into her dark house. Jonah snored away on the couch and Ben was nowhere in sight. She sighed as she walked up the stairs to her lonely bedroom, where she got ready for bed and slid into her cold sheets.

  The sound her door made when it opened and closed did nothing to cause any shock to Dylan. It was only a matter of seconds later that Ben was sliding under her covers. He pressed against her and moved her hair from her face.

  “Why did you do that to me?” he asked in a low whisper.

  His fingertips traced her jaw, then down along her neck, sending a tremble she couldn’t conceal throughout her body.

  Frightened that he would leave if she spoke, she waited before answering him. “I did nothing,” she finally lied.

  “You don’t like him,” he said, rubbing his nose to hers. His hand moved along her hip and down to her thigh. He lifted her leg and pulled it around his body, a move that stunned her beyond anything she could have anticipated.

  Dylan’s heart accelerated and she tried not to make any sudden moves, knowing he would run if she took any of his power. She tried not to hold her breath, but she was sure she shouldn’t even breathe.

  Ben’s hand moved over Dylan’s shoulder, sliding his smallest finger under the strap of her top. “Michael Olerson doesn’t deserve you,” he whispered.

  She couldn’t keep her mouth closed. “Do you?” she asked boldly.

  Ben’s lips brushed against her neck as he pulled her body closer. He was hard against her and was in no way attempting to hide it. “No,” he whispered, sending a gust of warm breath into her ear. “Nobody does.”

  Dylan moved her hips with him and tried to prepare herself for what she was sure was going to happen next. Was she ready? Of course she was! It was all she had ever thought about. Even in Ben’s absence, she dreamed of this moment.

  His hands moved around the curves of her body, exploring it over the small amount of clothing that covered her. She thought of urging his hands on, pulling him into her. Could he really be so closely controlled that he could resist making love to her if she was to undress completely? She felt like a fork in the road. Whichever way he wanted to go with her, she would happily go that way as well.

  Nevertheless, this was Ben she was dealing with, and he would always keep her on her toes. When she realized that was as far as he was going to let things go, she relaxed into his arms and closed her eyes. His heart thumped through his chest and slammed against hers until it slowed to a soothing beat.

  This was her comfort, sleeping in his grasp. She hadn’t forgotten how much she loved his warmth and his skin against hers. The days were growing too long now as she waited to be back in his hold. Sadly, it was all she looked forward to anymore.

  She slept soundly and happily, waking up every once in a while to stare at Ben’s perfect, angelic face. She pulled him closer and nuzzled deeper into his arms. This was her peace, her only perfection, an escape from her reality. She would enjoy it until the sun came up and pulled him away.

  Chapter Four

  Ben walked through his mother’s front door as quietly as possible. The sun was still buried in the horizon and he was sure Ruth would still be asleep in her bed. The pills she was ingesting these days wouldn’t allow her to wake up before the sun rose. Ben wondered if she was even awake when she was vertical, walking and talking. She seemed to be in a hazy fog most of the time and, odds were, she assumed he wasn’t even there, a hallucination of drugs and alcohol perhaps.

  If he crept up the stairs quietly enough, she would hopefully believe that he actually spent a night there. I slept here the other night, he would lie and say when she confronted him about not staying home. He walked into his room, pleased that he now had something to throw back at her when she nagged him to near death about being so neglectful.

  He fell back against his bed and felt peace when he realized he could still smell Dylan’s perfume. He couldn’t remember her ever wearing any before, another sign of her maturity after all these years. Perfume or none at all, he was drawn to her naturally.

  Ben rubbed his hands over his face and found himself wishing that he kissed her. She would probably have been angry at him for doing it when he had so much to drink before. He wondered what her lips felt like; he could only imagine afte
r all this time.

  It was harder for him to move from Dylan’s bed that morning. She was so tangled up in him, almost holding him there in a way, that he hated to pry away from her. He knew he had to and she should as well. If Jonah or any of them caught him there, if they knew what he thought about when she was next to him, practically naked in nothing but her underwear and a small top, they would kill him for sure.

  The Mathews boys were his brothers, but Ben was on thin ice in this particular area. They knew him inside and out. They knew what a pig he was and how he treated all the women in his life, including his own mother. They would automatically justify killing him because they would fear him hurting their sister. And that was just the very point of it all. He would hurt her; he destroyed everything in his path.

  He couldn’t watch her get closer to Michael Olerson. That was asking too much of him. He thought of himself as strong, but not that strong. There was never competition before. He never had to watch her hold hands with anyone, flirt with anyone or, for God’s sake, talk about constellations and tea with anyone!

  His head spun with these thoughts and he quieted them instantly when he knew he was getting nowhere. He thought about staying away from Dylan. Last night was close enough. If she had kissed him or done anything inviting, he couldn’t have stopped himself like last time. He knew this. If it weren’t for his mother’s guilt trips, he would hop on the next plane to Massachusetts and never come back just to avoid it all.

  Ben flipped and sighed loudly into his pillow. He knew he just needed to sleep it off.

  “Benjamin?” Ruth’s knock on the door woke him, but he still said nothing back.

  She opened the door and sighed loudly. “It smells like a bar in here.”

  Ben sat up and stared at her tired face. He looked around sarcastically. “It’s a good thing I don’t see one. I could use a shot.”

  Ruth stared at him through squinted eyes. “Your father sent these.” She held out a white piece of paper. The longer blue paper at the bottom was a dead giveaway what they were. Ben stared at them and said nothing.

  “Did you know?” she asked through a lump in her throat. “You could have warned me.”