Own (Need #3)

by K. I. Lynn

  She cocks an eyebrow at me. “Well, first off, you spend almost every free minute with him. Oh, and you’re fucking like bunnies.” She stares at me, waiting for some response, but I have none. “You spend most nights at his place, according to Jenna. And this thing between you two was happening long before we moved to Columbus.”

  “I’m stupid for ever even entertaining the fantasy that this was just sex. We had a huge blowout yesterday because I wouldn’t admit I’m his girl.”

  Marilyn stares at me, her eyes wide. “Have you heard from him after it?”

  I shake my head. “No, and that just . . . worries me.”

  “Worries you, how?”

  “I don’t know how to describe it. There’s just this lump in the pit of my stomach.”

  “Fear that he doesn’t want you?”

  I shrug. “I’m such a confused mess that I don’t know what I want.” I’m to the point I don’t know what to say, what to do. I’m almost afraid to see him.

  I hate this. All of it. I just want to go somewhere that nobody knows us. Somewhere that we can have a fresh start. No reminders of the past. Just him and me.

  But that’s fantasy, a dream, and not the reality we live in.

  The radio silence continues all day, leaving me staring at my reflection in the dark window. I can’t bring myself to break the silence because my insides are in turmoil, my heart and mind battling it out.

  His Thursday is just about as booked as mine, but they’re early out days.

  What is he doing?

  Normally, or as normal as the third week of college can get, we’d be studying and doing homework. Something so simple as hanging out. There’s sex as well, along with the acquiring of food, but also cuddling and watching TV before falling asleep in his arms.

  Something so innocuous that seems to imply so much.

  Maybe that’s another reason I had a hard time sleeping last night. I wasn’t wrapped up in Brayden. Being in his arms is like being home. It’s like I’m cocooned in comfort and love. Last night was cold and I can’t help wonder if it’s the same for him.

  Doubt creeps in and I wonder if he’s with another girl. Some other chick sucking on his dick, touching what should have always been mine.

  It should have. He should have. From the beginning, or at least from the first time he kissed me. Maybe I could forget all the girls before then, because I was in Junior High for most of it while he was in High School.

  Instead our parents got married and I caught him fucking Jenn. Everything went downhill from there. The implosion of my dreams and the harsh reality of what a whore he was. The pain of that day crippled me, changed me, but even that couldn’t crush the feelings I had for him.

  He did that. All in an attempt for us both to move on. It didn’t work and made us both even more miserable. Lashing out at the injustice of our situation and all the bad choices he made.

  Even now, I’m not sure I really trust him. Sometimes I find him on his computer which he suddenly closes, like he’s hiding something from me.

  “Jesus, Kira, just make up your freaking mind,” I say to myself, but it’s no help.

  The war inside me . . . how do I call peace? What is the right answer?

  Do I break both of our hearts, or do I put mine back on the line?

  The next morning the struggle to get moving is as rough as the day before. My phone has no messages or missed calls again. My vision blurs and I wipe away a threatening tear before it multiplies.

  When I head out to my one and only Friday class, which is a 9:00 a.m. lecture, there’s a familiar car sitting at the base of the steps. My heart hammers in my chest as I approach, the profile of his head hanging making the tightness around my ribs worse.

  At the same time, there’s a lightness in my chest and it keeps growing brighter.

  Is this what Dana was talking about?

  “Hi,” I say as I slide in.

  There are dark circles under his eyes and no energy coming off him. It’s a jarring version of him. I expected his usual persistence, but it’s gone.

  A completely defeated man.

  He gives me a tight smile, then peels away from the curb and onto the street. Music plays softly in the background, but it’s not enough to cover the awkward silence. It’s only about a mile before he’s pulling into a parking spot and reaching down between my legs to grab my bag. He swings it over his shoulder as he stands and shuts the car door.

  It’s an action of a boyfriend, not a brother. He’s making a statement, which is dangerous with how things have been lately.

  There’s still about half a mile walk to my class, across the Oval and past another building, and I begin to wonder if the silence is going to accompany us as we walk.

  Looking around, the Oval is empty with the exception of the random jogger. Early morning Friday classes are rare, and I happened to hit the lottery on that one. Yay.

  “I love you, so I’ll wait,” he says when we’re over halfway across the green expanse. The knot in my chest loosens some, and I can breathe a bit easier. “I fucked up, a lot, and this is my penance. I’m not a patient motherfucker, and I want you to be mine now. I just need to know you can even stand to be with me.”

  He turns to look at me and there’s so much pain etched into his features. The feeling to nurture him scratches at me, and I desperately want to, but I can’t given where we are.

  My hand flinches at the feel of his fingers, but then quickly relaxes, letting him slide his fingers between mine. I glance around, fear filling me. There’s just a couple of students, people I don’t recognize, milling around, and we’re almost out of the broad opening.

  Jesus Christ, this is too dangerous.

  But I can’t bring myself to let his hand go.

  It’s a foreign feeling—his hand in mine in public—but not a bad one. Very good. Very right.

  “Let me love you, Kira. Let me show you that you’re my everything. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Please don’t let my past influence our future.”

  In other words: don’t let my whoring ways and that bitch come between us.

  Tears sting in my eyes. “What do we do?”

  “I’ll do whatever you want. If you want to transfer, go where nobody knows us, I’ll get it done.” He looks down to our hands, his thumb caressing mine. “I can’t live without you anymore. I’ll back off if you need, but please . . . don’t leave me.” His voice breaks on the last words and I can’t hold the tears back.

  He’s so afraid that we’re breaking up and here I am so afraid I didn’t know I was with him.

  I focus on the feeling of our hands together. This was how it was always supposed to be, I get it. I’m scared, but I can’t let that stop me anymore.

  I take a deep breath, and then jump.

  “Brayden Hunt, if you break my heart again I will fucking kill you with my own bare hands.”

  Tension falls from his body and he slumps against me. His hand cups my cheek, forehead resting on mine. It’s too dangerous of a position, but one I need as much as he does.

  Nobody is around. Just need his touch, for a few seconds.

  “You own all of me.”

  Everything becomes clear, and as much as part of me rebels, all of me knows it’s the truth and a truth I want. “I better. I’m your girlfriend, after all.”

  He smiles and there’s a sparkle back in his eyes. “And my girlfriend deserves the best.”

  “Well, yeah, I have to put up with your idiotic ass,” I say as I tug on his hand to get him moving again. “I better be getting something out of the deal.”

  A small chuckle leaves him. “Kitty, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  We start walking again, our fingers still tangled together.

  “When I pick you up, do you want to get . . .” He trails off, his hand tearing away from mine. Shock runs through me, but when I look up, I understand as the familiar vision of his friend Craig stands not twenty fe
et from us.

  “Hey, Craig,” Brayden says, stepping toward him.

  Craig takes a few cautious steps in our direction. “Brayden.” His eyes flash over to me, his jaw ticking as he looks back to Brayden. “What’s up?”

  Craig stares at Brayden, waiting for something. The fear that he knows creeps in, but not as much as the realization that Craig is Austin’s best friend.

  That Craig probably already knows.

  Austin could have confided in him what happened, what sparked the fighting between them.

  The answer is always me. Only not in the way most people reason, and the look in Craig’s eyes tells me he’s not in the same circle as most people.

  “Just walking Kira to class.” Brayden tenses and I start to reach out to him, but pull back before either of them notice.

  Craig nods. “What a good brother you are.”

  Is that sarcasm in his tone?

  Brayden’s eyes narrow and he gives him a tight smile. “You know I’m always there to protect her.”

  The conversation is stiff, lacking the fluidity of decade-old friends.

  Craig leans forward and I can barely hear the words he whispers in Brayden’s ear. “Who’s going to protect her from you?”

  Brayden’s jaw tightens. “Don’t start this, Craig.”

  “You’re the one alienating your friends, Brayden. I feel like I don’t even know who you are anymore, man.”

  “I’m the same as I’ve always been, only with my priorities straightened out.”

  “And she’s your priority?” Craig shakes his head back and forth. “She was someone else’s, your friend, but you just couldn’t fucking handle that, could you?”

  Brayden’s fist clenches at his side and I have the sickening feeling things are about to explode. “Kira, get to class.”

  I shake my head. “No.” Grabbing onto his arm, I pull on him. “You can’t get into another fight.”

  He promised his Mom, and it would cause a fist fight between him and Steven. I have no doubt Steven would press charges, he’s that wonderful of a father, and that would spiral Brayden’s current situation into a tailspin that would probably result in jail time.

  “I’m not looking for a fight, Kira,” Craig says as he steps back with his hands up. “I was looking for my friend, but I don’t see him anywhere.”

  “Craig—”

  “See you around.” Craig turns and walks away, Brayden staring after him.

  He doesn’t move, seemingly lost in his thoughts. I worry about many things, but I also hurt to see relationships with his longtime friends crumble.

  “Brayden?”

  His head snaps to the side. Sad, tortured eyes stare back at me. “Anything, Kira. I will do anything for you.”

  My mouth drops open. He’s ended so many friendships, he would’ve even ended his relationship with Ryan, I know that. All to be with me.

  And in the end, we can be together, as long as it’s in the shadows, hidden from the world. For now. Pariahs if people knew, and all because our parents got married.

  Because my mom was lonely.

  If only she’d met someone else, then we wouldn’t be in this situation.

  In the distance the bells of a nearby church chime. Panic shoots through me and I pull out my phone.

  “Shit! I’m late.”

  He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

  I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just go get some food and take it back to your place.” Fuck class. He’s what I want anyway.

  His lips twitch into a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. “We can start season three of American Horror Story.”

  “Which season is that?” I ask as we start walking back across the Oval.

  This time there’s no touching, and more space between us to help resist the temptation. It’s an awful empty void filled with nothing but longing to be with him.

  “Witches, I think.”

  It’s hard not to wrap my arm around his, to lay claim to him, to show everyone that we are together. A united front.

  A couple.

  I, Kira Roth, am in a romantic relationship with Brayden Hunt—my neighbor, my best friend, my first love, my stepbrother.

  October 3rd 2015

  I love lazy Saturday’s. Kira’s in my apartment. We’re sitting on the couch together, taking a much needed break from studying, her sexy legs stretched out across my lap. It’s relaxation central. Just me and her.

  She pulls another M&M in between those fucking suckable lips of hers, drawing my attention away from the current episode of American Horror Story. It’s been a week since Kira officially, known to both of us, became my girlfriend.

  No sweeter words were spoken then the first time she said she was my girlfriend. A milestone that gave me hope that things will work out. That we can make it past all the obstacles that still lay before us.

  “You know what we haven’t done in years?” I open my mouth and Kira tosses one of the candies in.

  She quirks her brow while she crunches on the coated chocolate. “What?”

  “Tom’s Maze.”

  “I went last year with the girls.”

  I tickle under her knee, making her squirm. “Well, it wasn’t with me, so it doesn’t count.”

  She glances to the clock. “It’s only seven.”

  My lips draw up on one side. “It’s only probably what, an hour, hour and a half there? Doing it in the dark is best.”

  She shrugs. “Should we call Ryan and Dana?”

  “Sure.” I kinda want to go on our own, just the two of us, but if we’re going with anyone, they’re who I want. It’s one of the safest places we can go and actually act like a couple. There’s a chance that people from our hometown could be there, but between the dark, and them knowing her as my stepsister, holding her hand won’t be an issue.

  While she calls, I go rummaging through some of the boxes that are still lined up against the wall. I’m going to Indianapolis next weekend and plan to take some with me, because there just isn’t room for them here.

  In one box I find bits of my camping gear and locate two working flashlights.

  Kira’s arms wrap around my waist and I let out a low humming sound. I never knew such a simple show of affection could completely disarm me. I turn into fucking goo every time she does it.

  “They’re occupied.” She chuckles against my back.

  “Oh, are they?”

  “Yeah. I used your phone and all I got was ‘I’m fucking getting head, piss off’ before he hung up. Which is something I really didn’t need to know.”

  I shake my head. “Bro says he has my back, whenever I need. I’m surprised he answered.”

  “I think it was an accident. If he called while we were having sex, would you be all friendly?”

  My lip curls up and I turn around. “Oh, yeah. I’d tell him all about how his little sister’s pussy is milking me before asking him what he wants.”

  Her mouth pops open and she slaps my stomach. “Oh, my God. No. Don’t you freaking dare!”

  “What? It’s not like he doesn’t know.”

  “It’s my brother. That’s just weird and wrong on so many levels.” Her sour face morphs into wide-eyed horror. “Please don’t tell me you talk to him about sex with me, because that’s just weird.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “Shit, I can’t even mention anything sex related without getting crap about either how he doesn’t want to hear about our sex life or him being pissed if he thinks I’m talking about another chick. And before you start in, it’s always about you.”

  She gives me a side-eyed look, her hand running down my chest. Fingers flatten out when she hits the waist of my shorts before moving a little further and curling around my dick and balls.

  I draw in a stunted breath, my dick beginning to stir in her hand.

  “Better be.”

  I clear my throat before turning on as much charm as I can muster with her
holding my goods hostage. “Baby, my dick is yours and only yours for the rest of my life.”

  Her lips curl up into a smile and she begins to massage my fear-filled flesh. “Good boy.”

  “Do I get a treat?”

  “Maybe on the ride home I’ll give you a blowjob.”

  Fuck me. Road head.

  “Yes, please.”

  A giggle springs from her and she reaches up to pull my head down to press her lips to mine. “Come on, I need to hit the dorm to grab some jeans and sneakers.”

  “You’ve got both of those in the bedroom.”

  She blinks at me, then steps closer and wraps her arms around my waist. “Oh, yeah. Kinda forgot how much of my stuff has migrated over here.”

  “Have I told you how much I love that?” I lean down and kiss her nose.

  She gives me the happy little smile, the one from when we were kids. Genuine and pure and makes me want to do whatever put that look on her face over and over again.

  Kira’s been lounging in nothing but my T-shirt, which looks fucking sexy on her, since we got up. It takes a lot of willpower to not just grab her when she’s changing, naked except those fucking cheekies she loves teasing me with. They make her ass look somehow even more biteable.

  I prevail, moving on to the task of locating my boots and throwing on some jeans.

  Ten minutes later, we’re on the road, my hand on its usual resting spot on her thigh. Right where it should always be.

  The trip is filled with music, some singing along, and calm. Just being with each other and I fucking love it.

  The drive isn’t much longer than from my dad’s house, but it’s still over an hour and totally worth it. Tom’s Maze is a fall favorite and has been since my mom took me when I was about ten. The owner takes almost ten acres and every year, carves a new intricate maze and drawing out of the corn stalks. This year is a cannon, above it written “Have a blast.”

  It’s more than just a maze. It’s also a puzzle, with a goal to fill in all the pieces of a map found in mailboxes hidden in the passages. A grid of twelve, it usually takes at least an hour and a half to make our way out, especially in the dark, with a flashlight as the only source of light.