Unavoidable Bond

by C Bradley

  Well, if that doesn’t just burn my ass!

  I slam the door behind me and lock up for the night. The tension and anxiety I’d been able to release on my run and at the gym, quickly returns. Moving mechanically through the motions, I shower and ready myself for bed, only to toss and turn the entire night. The light funneling through my curtains forces me to make an important decision, either go to work or stay home.

  Clearly, the responsible piece of me should go to work. However, I do the opposite and email my boss and team informing them of the same details, concluding that I’ll be working outside of the office on administrative tasks and to contact me with issues. Huffing out a yawn, I stretch my sore muscles within the comforting state of my king size haven. I’ve almost dozed off completely, when my phone pings in quick succession.

  Seriously!

  Reaching over, I grab my cellphone from the nightstand and flop it back against the pillow, when I see Micah’s name appear with three unopened messages on text badge. Nope, not even going there. If it’s an emergency, he’ll call.

  “Banana, open the door,” Micah’s voice booms through the door and my apartment, followed in quick succession of rapid knocking.

  “Dude, hold your dick!” I shout, making my way to the door just as he starts to pound on the wooden slab.

  “So, not only is Addison completely AWOL, but you missed brunch this week. What gives with you women?” His sigh, hits me right in the chest. I’ve neglected my best friend over a personal pity party because Brody isn’t available. I’m such a loser.

  “Sorry, I’ve been stuck in my own head. Why’s Addison off the grid?”

  “If I knew, I wouldn’t have termed her as being AWOL smart kid.” A smile tugs at his lips, and I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up.

  “Maybe she’s hiding because she found out Brody is a two-timing jackass?” I shrug, making my way from the kitchen to the living room with a glass of Moscato and a beer for Micah.

  “The hell?” He shouts, taking the beer.

  “Whatever, it was too good to be true. Story of my life. What’ve I missed the last few days?”

  “Swift topic change, but not much. Dad’s pissed about the annual Memorial Day party, but that’s the same bullshit spewed every year.”

  “Aww,” I coo. “So troublesome to have a daddy that cares.”

  “Shut it. It’s my house. He just can’t let it go.” He shakes his head in frustration then grins.

  “What’s got ya smiling, cranky pants?” Deflection has always been my go to, so why stop now.

  “Nothin’. So why do you think dreamboat is a double-timer?”

  “Seeing a beautiful, tall, brunette woman walking through his front door, and complete avoidance for nearly a week. Those are two huge clues. Meh, whatever though. No biggy.” I shrug, playing it off, and toss the television remote onto Micah’s lap. “Let’s watch TV because I’m done talking and thinking about it.”

  Setting down a basket of dirty laundry on my bed, I reach for my wallet to grab my laundromat card.

  “Nin, I’m going to toss some laundry in, or I’m going to have to attend the funeral naked!” I shout over the TV sound, receiving a quick arm wave in acknowledgement, as she promptly returns to her lifetime movie.

  I love my sister, but I can’t wait to have my house back. Any longer, and I might just start my period.

  Tucking the detergent bottle and dryer sheets into the basket, I make my way down the stairwell. The laundry facility, which is located on the ground floor just one flight below my apartment, offers washers and dryers along the walls of the ten-by-ten foot space. The fancy laundry card vending machine is tucked firmly into the wall at the far-left corner.

  Hannah and I have spent countless hours in this room. Occupying one another, while we waited for the machines to free up or finish, which normally meant heavy petting with her ass firmly planted on a washer, during the spin cycle. We quickly determined the best time to do laundry was in the middle of the night, which meant neither of us got much rest. However, we always hit Dough Balls in the morning for coffee and a breakfast treat to start the day right.

  Placing my basket on the floor, I toss my lights and darks into two available machines against the back wall and begin pouring a measured cup of detergent in, as I set the machine to normal wash.

  Just as it’s happened numerous times this week, the tug of emptiness pulls at me, but now it’s stronger, as if she’s right here. Quickly pivoting towards the door, we lock eyes. Just before crossing the threshold, she abruptly stops, rolls her eyes, and then quickly spins around, leaving the room.

  “Hannah?” I shout.

  What the hell?

  Plopping the detergent bottle down on top of the washer, I quickly move towards the door in effort to catch her.

  “Hannah, where are you going?” Making my way up the stairs, I loosely grab on to her elbow. Her immediate reaction is to forcefully punch back her arm, nearly hitting me in the face.

  “Don’t fucking touch me, Brody!” She snarls facing me. Her face flushed red, and her eyes dark brown and brooding.

  “Whoa, what the fuck is this about?” I ask, holding my hands up in surrender.

  She drops her laundry basket to the concrete, and it lands with a thud. She pops her hip out to the side, and if a glare could kill, I’d be meeting my maker alongside my parents.

  “You went MIA from work, the gym, and running with no explanation, no texts, and no calls! And then... then I see some leggy, brunette all giggling and laughing, as she oh so comfortably enters your place the other night.” Growling in a very unladylike manner she continues, spewing anger, “You could have just told me you weren’t interested! Hell, you could’ve just said you didn’t want to be monogamous. Dammit! I don’t even know what we are or well were.” She sputters, as if in defeat when her argument tangles.

  “Hannah, I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve been preoccupied. Not by choice, but I’ve been dealing with some things.” I shift my body to lean against the wall, as neighbors make their way up the stairs, walking right between us.

  “Mhmm.”

  “Hannah, just let me get this out,” I plead.

  “Brody. You got all wound up time and time again, then beg me to trust you and to not hide from you. But yet, here you’ve been obviously hiding. I have a right to be pissed off!” She rants, her voice continuing to escalate, unphased by the witnesses passing by us.

  Exhaling a deep breath, I search out her angry and hurt eyes. “Hannah, my parents died. A little over a week ago in a car accident.” Vocalizing their loss hasn’t become any easier; I lean into the wall for stability.

  “So, you go for an easy piece? Because clearly I’m just the fun fuck?”

  “Hannah, did you hear me?” I growl in frustration. “My parents died.” It’s only when I repeat that my parents have left this world does Hannah’s breath catch, as if hearing me for the first time. “The brunette is my baby sister, Nina, and she’s been staying with me since the incident, so we can get all the details ironed out with funeral arrangements and legal details. Well, and we need each other for support.”

  “Brody...” her voice trails off, as tears well and spill over. “I’m sorry for your loss, I truly am. I didn’t know.”

  “I’m sorry for not reaching out. It’s just... I should have told you, but you’ve been through enough rough shit with your family, or lack thereof, that I didn’t want to burden you.” Letting a sigh escape me, I lean my head back against the concrete wall. “Baby, I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad. I’m honestly too exhausted on all accounts to manage right now.” Her facial expression softens, as she turns towards me.

  “You’re right. You should’ve reached out. Why are we even doing whatever the hell we’re doing, if you don’t trust me enough or feel that I can’t handle the hard shit?” She rests her head against the cinderblock wall and whispers, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  I lean over, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Thank
you. It’s been a long week, and I’ve missed you.”

  “I missed you for a while, until I saw your “sister,” after that I was just mad and wanted to rip your ball sack off.”

  “Fucks sake, you’re violent.” I gasp and visibly shiver at the thought of forcefully removed genitalia. “And for the record babe, if you have to question what we are, then obliviously I’m not doing my job right. You’re my girl, and I’m your man, which makes us together, baby.”

  Hannah sighs into my chest, like she is content with my answer, before squatting down to pick up the laundry basket she’d earlier tossed away. “Thank you, Brody. Now, I need to throw these in the wash. Are there any machines open?”

  Shaking my head, I answer, “No, but you can have my machines once my clothes are done. Do you want to meet the leggy, brunette, giggling, and laughing whore I’ve been keeping from you?”

  She rolls her eyes and elbows my ribcage, after my suggestion and embellished accusation. “I did not call her a whore! I thought it, but I didn’t say it!”

  My stomach tightly coils and uncoils, as I follow Brody back into the laundry room, dropping my dirty clothes bin onto one of the washers he’d claimed. He chased after me, that’s got to be a good sign, or I’ve lost my mind because my heart leapt, and my brain refuses to rationalize.

  “Why are you shaking your head, baby?”

  “Oh, I was just thinking about something that happened at work. Speaking of work, my office space looks nice, even as incomplete as it is.”

  “Yeah, I’ll have my guys back onsite by Wednesday.” His grin doesn’t reach its general dimple inducing state. Clearly, he’s forcing the emotion, but why? Do I care? Uh, why do I care is the better question.

  “No rush on my part, I don’t pay for the upgrades. I’m just getting the perks of newly remodeled digs.”

  “Let’s go, so you can meet Nina, my sister.” He full out smiles, when mentioning his sister. It’s a relief seeing his carefree demeanor, even if it is fleeting.

  Then it hits me, I’m meeting his family. Well, meeting his only family left. Oh hell, what if she hates me? What if I can’t stand her? No, I’m not ready for this. We could go up in flames in one encounter. Maybe I can back out. Maybe Micah will pop down here and pull me away for some fake something. Oh shit, now I’m sweating. My breaths increase, and I sway slightly. Oh no.

  “Baby, hey. Hey.” Brody gasps, catching my now quivering chin in between his thumb and forefinger. “Breathe, what’s happening?”

  “I can’t meet your sister, not like this. Not now,” I ramble and attempt to pull away.

  “What? Why?” He asks, confusion splashing across his features.

  “Brody, I’m in no condition to meet your sister. What if there’s just too much pressure? I’m not ready.”

  “Hannah, you were going to be meeting my parents last Wednesday had they not died. It’s fine. You’ll love her, and she’ll love you. Just wait you’ll see. She’s the nice one.” His strong arms encase me, as his hands roam my back effortlessly.

  “I’m sorry.” I shake my head against his chest both in apology for my freak out and acceptance. “But I should go change first. I mean,” I stop speaking and put a bit of space between us, looking down at my attire feet first. Sneakers, performance booty shorts, and a gray muscle tank that shows my neon pink sports bra and tan obliques.

  “No, don’t. This is you, and frankly, you’re hot as fuck right now.” He smiles so wide it reaches his eyes, which are now crinkled with happiness.

  “I’m not sleeping with you. I’m meeting your sister. Your baby sister, and I’m dressed like I’m going to the gym, which I’m not. I was going to do laundry.” I argue, but he’s having none of it. Before I can continue my point, he hoists me over his shoulder and stalks out of the laundry room.

  “Look who won,” he laughs, as he jogs up to his apartment. “Crap,” he mumbles through his laugh and kicks the door.

  “Dude, put me down,” I cackle and begin smacking his tight ass.

  “Um, forget your key again, loser?” I stop swatting, when a southern accent fills my ears.

  All that runs through my mind is that I’m meeting his sister for the first time with my ass in the air. My ass is in the air!

  “Yes,” Brody answers and adjusts my leaning body back to where he wants me. “Will you stop squirming?”

  “No! Put me down you caveman!”

  Once we clear the doorway, he slides me down his front side, controlling the slow pace, which pulls my tank up and reveals my less than flat tummy. Tugging it down quickly, I attempt to turn and greet Nina, but his hands lock down on my hips, and he stares into my panicky eyes.

  “Breathe.” Brody whispers against my lips, offering a quick kiss. He pulls away, turning me to face his seemingly amused sister but keeps me in his arms.

  “Hey, I’m Nina, and you must be Hannah.” Her smile is so bright and genuine, and it puts me at ease, until she starts talking again. “Brody has told me literally nothing about you.”

  “Oh, um. Nice to meet you, Nina. I guess I could say the same. I thought he’d moved on and found a new piece of tail to conquer and release.” Brody’s fingertips dig into my hips at my comment.

  “Nah, just the grieving sister,” her voice drops, as she shrugs and makes her way to the sofa. “Come sit, and let’s chat. B, go get us some drinks.”

  “Be nice. I told her you were nice, so don’t make me a liar.” He releases me, walks the fifteen feet to his kitchen, and begins following his sister’s orders, if the clanking sound is any clue.

  “He’s intentionally being obnoxiously loud. I used to do the same, when he asked to talk to my boyfriends.” Nina giggles, as she settles into the corner of the sofa.

  “Nina, I’m truly sorry for your loss.” I offer my condolences, and she smiles softly.

  “Thanks. It sucks, but we’re making it through. So, tell me about you. Brody mentioned y’all met at the office.”

  “Uh, yeah. I’m the HR Director for JLC, a consulting firm, and he’s working on the renovations for my team’s workspace. And mine as well.” I expand. “It’s a lot of hours, time, and patience, but I love it. The job and the people. Which is weird because I’m not a people person really. I tend to be slightly sarcastic and say inappropriate things when it’s on my mind.”

  “Slightly my ass,” Brody laughs, plopping down beside me, pulling me into his side, after handing Nina and me a beer. “She definitely speaks her mind or runs, until she’s able to do it without showing any emotion.”

  “Oh hell, she’s your female likeness. God help me!” Nina laughs. “But it means I like you already. Honesty is the best policy, isn’t it Brody?” The inflection in her voice snares my attention, as my email alert pings loudly.

  “Excuse me, I’m sorry. I’ve been waiting to receive a memo from work.” I apologize, pulling my phone from the armband pocket it’s nestled in.

  “Sure is.” Brody says quickly, before changing the topic. “Babe, you stayin’ for dinner?”

  “No, I can’t. Micah is upstairs, and it’s my night to cook. You are more than welcome to join us.” I offer and amend quickly. “Both of you are welcome, or I can bring some down for you. I’m sure you’re tired of pizza and Chinese, right?” I ask, smiling over at a nodding Nina, before I swipe open the email.

  “I’ll just have Micah come down. I wanted to talk to him anyway. What are you making? Mr. Muscles can bring the ingredients down with him.” Brody’s smile grows, as he talks, taking jabs at my best friend who could literally take him down in the blink of an eye.

  “Probably sautéed shrimp and gnocchi in a garlic Parmesan cream sauce.” I say shrugging, as if my dinner choice was ordinary. It is I suppose in a way, but only when I’m cooking for more than one.

  “Wait, you’re making this not ordering it in?” Nina asks, craning her neck towards where I’m now standing by the door.

  “Yep, I cook and bake. Ya know like a chef. It’s one of my only dome
sticated traits. My friend Micah’s mom taught me.”

  “Call Micah, Brody. Call him now because my stomach is very excited.” Nina shouts and claps her hands together loudly.

  “Sweet baby Jesus in a manger,” I mutter quietly, as I navigate my car into a parking space in the expansive lot of Hope Community Church. How did I not derive a conclusion? How did I never question anything, or find it skeptical that we never discussed our, no his, personal life in enough detail to not feel like a complete moron?

  “What are you doing here?” I ask my best friend, as I stop by him and Addison on the way into the service.

  Why is he here? Why are they here? Does he know? Has he known? Its official. I’m losing my damn mind.

  “Addison asked me if I’d attend a funeral service of her lifelong friends. They were like parents to her.” Micah’s monotone voice gives nothing away, but the way Addison refuses to look at me sure as hell does.

  “Oh.” I swallow and turn the conversation to Addison. “I’m truly sorry for your loss. I hadn’t put two and two together.

  “Let’s go,” Micah directs softly once we’re all standing at the entrance door. Funerals are such a weird thing. Getting all dressed up to say goodbye to the souls that have already passed. I understand it, but it’s weird to me nonetheless.

  After taking a deep breath, our steps carry us through the entry way, and I take in the enormity of the structure. My racing pulse accelerates, as I nod to my executive leadership team from the office and swiftly approach them to take my seat, breaking away from Micah and Addison.

  Brody appears in my peripheral, quickly moving towards me, as I settle at the end seat of the church pew. “Hey, you look as if you’ve seen a dead man walking,” he jokes, causing me to jerk my head in his direction. The loud intake of breath comes from my left. Rosie apparently didn’t find Brody’s joke amusing, but distasteful instead. I, on the other hand, try and fail to cover my cackle at his horribly timed joke.