She gave me a soft, tender look as we reached the curb and sat down heavily. My legs were long—so were hers, and damn they were sexy—so that when I sat I had to fold them in and caused them to stick up until they were level with my shoulders. It was awkward, but I didn’t care so long as Ashley sat there with me.
“I wasn’t really planning to,” Ashley admitted hesitantly. She seemed to think something over, then smiled and shook her head. “I even argued with dad about it. He already had the tickets and wanted me to go, but I didn’t think it was a good idea. Then he told me to wear that damn shirt and I saw how important it was to him…”
She trailed off and I felt a wash of disappointment. Of course, she’d gone for dad and that was really decent of her. That was how Ashley was; always thinking of others. But even so, I’d really hoped that the reason she had gone to my game was to see me. It was kind of selfish and childish, but I couldn’t help it.
“Oh,” was all I said.
She sent me a sideway glance. “I didn’t want to go because you ran off,” she explained and instantly I felt like shit. I must have made her feel really bad, which was never in my whole life my intention. When I’d run off, I had been so wrapped up and confused by my own feelings, that I never stopped to consider her. Which made me a real jerk, didn’t it? “I thought maybe you didn’t want to see me,” she continued in a small voice and I felt worse.
Turning to look at her, I shook my head. I stopped that quickly because my head was still tender and I wasn’t sure if shaking it around like that was going to make me feel any worse or what. “No, Ash, I’m so sorry. That wasn’t what I meant at all.”
“It wasn’t?”
I went to shake my head again, then remembered my concussion. “No, of course not and if I’d had a brain cell in my head, I would have told you straight up that I was just confused about the whole thing. I wasn’t mad at you and I always want to see you. You mean the world to me.”
As soon as I blurted the words out of my mouth, a part of me wanted to take them back. That was a pretty serious confession though it didn’t have to be romantic. It was just a little late to make that claim and insist that it wasn’t romantic. She did mean the world to me, but the way I wanted her was complicated because of our sibling relationship and I didn’t know for sure if that was something she could get past. Something we could get past.
And worse than that, I didn’t know if she even wanted to try.
Sure, it was pretty clear that she wanted me in a sexual sense, but what about beyond that? Did she want to settle down with me? Date me? Did I mean anything more to her than a crush or a lay? I had no idea and until I found out, I hadn’t wanted to share my feelings with her, but it was too late to take them back now.
I chanced a glance at Ashley’s face. She looked pensive, but was staring at me, her bright blue eyes impossibly big and a little shiny like they were wet or she’d been crying or like those cartoons where girls who were excited about things had the little stars in her eyes. That look gave me hope.
“You mean the world to me, too,” she said with a small, shy smile that seemed out of place in someone so strong and so incredibly hot. She should ooze confidence, I thought, and it was weird now to see her a little nervous or hesitant. “I… I was sort of worried that you regretted the other night.” She shrugged, thinking about something though I hadn’t the foggiest about what it was. Us, I hoped.
Letting out a sigh, I ran a hand through my thick hair. “No, Ash. Definitely not. I just… it caught me off guard and I felt like maybe I’d taken advantage of you or something.”
At that, Ashley actually laughed, full and throaty making her breasts bounce a little and caused her neck to look long, inviting.
I grinned, “What? What are you laughing at?”
She shook her head, snorted another laugh, then composed herself and told me, “I’m laughing at you.”
“Why?”
“Because you thought you had taken advantage of me! Seriously? What, am I some ten-year-old girl who has no clue how all of this works? Some innocent child who has never been with someone before and hasn’t touched herself thousands of times to the thought of you fucking?”
I stared at her. I thought my mouth was probably hanging open a little bit, but I couldn’t seem to pick it back up. Thousands of times? Not just that she’d touched herself to the thought of me but thousands of times! How incredible was that?
I thought about how her bedroom had been just down the hall. What would have happened if I’d known then what I knew now? What would have happened if I’d been aware that she had wanted me like that when we had been under the same roof, half a dozen steps away from each other?
You know exactly what would have happened, a voice in my head told me seriously. And it was true, I did know. I’d have slept with her in a heartbeat and banged her like there was no other girl in the world.
Which probably would have gotten us both in a lot of trouble if mom or dad had ever found out. It was one thing for me to bring a girl home. Dad had explained to me that he knew I snuck girls in now and then, and gave me a little leeway, even bought me some condoms, which I rarely used. But it was another thing entirely, to fuck a girl who lived in the same house as me. And not just lived with me but was the daughter of the man I considered my father.
So, probably, it was for the best that I had no idea she’d masturbated to me. Still, I was glad I knew it now.
“I had no idea that you…” I gestured with my hands wildly, uncertainly. Suddenly, I felt tongue-tied even though I’d talked dirty to girls so many times that it was second nature and I wasn’t embarrassed by things like sex—or like touching yourself. But this just had me shocked and flustered and it was awesome.
Ashley laughed and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you flustered like this when it came to a girl.” She batted her eyes at me. I think it was supposed to be teasing, but it set my blood to boil and I had to take a deep calming breath.
“Never heard me talk about you then,” I countered and she laughed again.
We didn’t have to wait long for dad. He drove the little car right up to the curb where we were sitting and came to a stop. Both Ash and I got up, but before I could get to the doors—I’d been intending to get Ashley’s for her—dad had hopped out and was around the car like a lightning bolt. I didn’t even know that dad could still move that fast.
Dad gave me a big hug. “I’m so glad you’re alright, son,” he told me and I hugged him back, grateful for his warmth and concern. “You really had us worried. Ashley was pretty scared. Wouldn’t even leave your bedside.”
I glanced over at Ashley to find that her eyes were a little wide and she was blushing. By the time dad looked over at her, she’d scrounged up some semblance of composure.
“You make it sound like I was Florence Nightingale,” she told him with a laugh. He hugged her, too.
Then dad got my door first, insisting I get in and be comfortable since I was the injured party. I sat in the front while Ashley took a seat in the slightly cramped back. I was grateful; my legs were not designed to fit in the backseat of dad’s little car.
Dad pulled out of the hospital lot and got onto the freeway, heading towards his house. Frowning, I said, “Dad, you’re going to miss the turn off for my apartment.”
But dad didn’t react. He just shook his head. “Nope, you’re not going to your apartment.”
I raised my eyebrow in surprise and risked a glance back at Ashley. She shrugged her shoulders and looked just as confused as I was.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re coming home,” dad said firmly, making it clear that this wasn’t open for discussion or negotiation. “You’re still recovering and I want you nearby so we can look after you.” I opened my mouth to protest, but dad just powered through before I could get a word out edgewise. “I don’t want to hear it. With Selene… well, with the tragedy that has swept this family, I think it’s important that we’re tog
ether right now. I need you home. The both of you. It’s the only way we’re all going to heal.”
I glanced back at Ashley again. I could see excitement shining in her eyes; she liked the idea that I would be close, once again under the same roof, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. On the one hand, it sent little butterflies swarming through my stomach. That close to Ashley all the time… but then I thought about the hospital and my mother’s wake and how were we supposed to control ourselves with dad just down the hall?
Was this going to be alright? I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t deny that I was happier about it than I probably should have been.
“Okay, okay, Dad, you got it,” I said to him, relenting.
Dad sat up straighter, pleased with himself. “Good. Glad that’s settled.”
I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t really sure that this settled anything, but I kept my mouth shut and my eyes away from Ashley. If I looked at her too much, I was going to give us both away.
“I even got your room set up,” dad continued, oblivious to my internal dilemma and his daughter’s flashing, heated eyes. “Did the sheets and the comforter for it. Aired it out last night too, so it won’t have that musty smell to it. You and Ashley will have to share a bathroom again—”
My gaze shot back to Ashley only to be met by hers as well. It was amusing in a way, sneaky because we knew things that he didn’t, and neither of us seemed to think sharing a shower would be a problem. I couldn’t help but smirk and wink at Ashley.
“—but you’re not kids anymore, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Dad laughed suddenly, shaking his head, and said to us, “Do you kids remember that day when you’d been playing out in the rain all morning? It was a Saturday, I think, and when you finally came in, Selene said you both looked like two mud monsters?”
I felt the smile on my face slip. I did remember that day. Ashley and I had only lived together for a few months at that point and while we’d gotten along without any problems, it was obvious that we weren’t super close. Not yet.
“Selene had stopped either of you from going upstairs to shower and told you to wait outside for her,” dad continued, oblivious to my shift in expression. “She came out with the hose and sprayed off the both of you until most of the mud was rinsed away.”
I glanced once again back at Ashley, finding that her expression mirrored mine. Guilt. Here I was sitting here thinking of how awesome it would be to have Ashley right down the hall so that I could sneak in and bang her late in the night—or whenever I found a free minute—while Dad chatted cheerfully about our shared childhood.
Really, I was an asshole. An absolute asshole.
Chapter Eleven
Danny went upstairs quickly when we got home. Dad offered to help him out—as did I—but he declined from the both of us, saying he just wanted to get settled again. I thought about how close he was going to be. Right down the hall. Would he sneak into my room tonight? Would he let me sneak into his? Could we share showers?
I thought of his hands sliding along my slick, bare skin, thinking of his hands slowly washing me with subtle, slick soap. I wondered if he’d take me in there, if he’d surprise me by throwing back the curtain and—
“Let’s let your brother get some rest,” my dad said, interrupting my thoughts about Danny with the ever jarring reminder that we were related, even if it wasn’t by blood. “I’ve got to pick up a few groceries so that we can do something for dinner. Want to go with me?”
I wanted to say no, that I’d much rather stay here with Danny, but I felt like dad hadn’t been getting the kind of attention that he needed after everything was going on with Selene. Wasn’t that what this was all about? Besides, after the car ride over here, it was kind of looking like Danny needed a little time to think about things. I just hoped that he wouldn’t think about things and reconsider us.
We spent a little over an hour in the supermarket, not including driving time. I felt like groaning and telling my dad that we could bring home McDonald’s and Danny would be happy. But he wasn’t going to have any of that. Both of his kids—biological or otherwise—were under the same roof, damn it, and he was going to take full advantage of the opportunity. He wanted to cook, really cook. He wanted the nice home cooked meal that reminded everyone of home and Thanksgiving and those barbecues in the summer with the neighbors.
It was a nice thought, of course, and I knew that Danny would appreciate it just as I would, but it wasn’t necessary. His kids were here. We weren’t going anywhere. And we weren’t here for the food (though admittedly it was a nice perk).
“When was the last time you really had a nice, hot, homemade meal?” dad challenged me when I told him that I didn’t think we needed to pick up flour for home baked bread.
I rolled my eyes at him and turned to the next shelf, deliberately ignoring him. I wasn’t about to let him know that he was right—I didn’t do a lot of cooking in New York with my little apartment and my weird hours, though I was perfectly capable of cooking—and made sure to look nonchalant as I examined black olives for the salad he was insisting on.
But he wasn’t fooled by my ruse. I could hear his triumphant grin as he told me, “Aha! See? I knew it. You haven’t been taking care of yourself like you should, and I’m going to remind you how nice life is with a little stability and a little civility.”
I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that he was being ridiculous—or that it wasn’t that easy. That would require explaining why it wasn’t that easy, and I didn’t want him to know that I usually didn’t get off work until around three in the morning. He didn’t know that I worked at a bar and I intended to keep it that way.
Dad liked to worry; I didn’t want to give him any more reasons for that.
“Yeah, well, what about Danny?” I said, deliberately redirecting the conversation away from my life. Danny’s lifestyle was much easier to talk about. Dad already knew that Danny had girls over—as was par for the course as far as football players went—and he definitely knew that Danny played football and otherwise lived as a bachelor. “He doesn’t need a good home cooked meal. He probably has staff for that or something,” I teased, rolling my eyes.
Dad laughed at me, then waved me off. “Don’t be ridiculous. I made sure that Danny invested a lot of his income so that he wouldn’t be one of those dumb jocks who blows out his knee in his twenties and finds himself in god knows how many millions of dollars of debt despite the fat paychecks he’s been getting.”
I held back a giggle at my father’s vehemence. He loved football. He thought there was no sport better in the world and he had a lot of respect for the kids that played the game. But in his mind, those kids were definitely young and irresponsible and no one had bothered to teach them about the world. He wanted to make sure that his son had something to fall back on. He wanted to make sure that Danny would have a long, happy life after football.
It was why there were savings accounts and holds on part of his check right off the bat. Danny let him do it, partially because dad was smart and definitely right when it came to this, but also because I thought Danny might be humoring him a little bit. I had the feeling that sometimes Danny thought he’d be playing football forever and ever.
It was silly to think that, and I hoped that this little head injury—god, it still terrified me to think about—would make him realize that dad was most definitely right.
“Easy tiger,” I told my dad, teasing him a little. “I’m sure Danny will appreciate the meal.”
Dad waved me off, and continued shopping, telling me that when we get older, both Danny and I would appreciate the little things like this.
“Dad,” I said seriously, putting my hand on his shoulder. “We already do appreciate what you do for us. Really.”
He smiled at me then and gave me a hug.
We finished up our shopping then and finally headed home, ending up with more groceries than I thought were strictly necessary. I wanted to ask him just how long he thought we
were going to be staying here with him, but I reconsidered at the last moment. That seemed so rude to rub it in his face that we would, eventually and soon, leave him once again.
The thought of my dad home alone suddenly made me feel awful. When we had the car packed up with our groceries, he pulled out of the parking lot and I looked out the window, suddenly not wanting to think about my dad in that big house thinking of all the good memories he’d had with the family that was no longer there.
We drove home and I helped him unload the groceries. We put everything away, which was a bit of a pain because dad had gotten so much stuff, but he made sure to leave out what he was going to make for dinner. It was already late enough in the afternoon that starting wouldn’t be a bad idea. We might eat a little earlier than usual, but not by much if dad really was going to do all this work. (Which he evidently was.)
Crush Page 14
