Knocked Up by Her Brother's Enemy

by Penny Wylder

  “Shit,” I say, scrambling to get dressed. “I’m sorry. I texted Nathan an hour ago, letting him know I was in town. He’ll wonder why all of my boxes are still in my car.”

  Mac nods in understanding. He and my brother have been enemies since our childhood. Their rivalry even went as far as a small fight on the soccer field their junior year of high school. Mac, of all people, will understand the ramifications of me being seen with him.

  He reaches over to the bedside table. In the drawer, he pulls out a pen and sticky note and scribbles something down on it. While he does that, I hurriedly pull on my shorts and the rest of my clothes.

  He hands me the note. It’s his cell number. “In case you want to go another round sometime.”

  I put the number in my pocket and smile at him. “Count on it,” I say.

  I rush out of the house and run across the street, making it to my car just as Nathan’s truck rounds the corner onto our street.

  2

  I open the hatch to my SUV and wave at Nathan as he parks beside me. He gets out of his truck with a huge smile on his face. When my brother smiles he lights up the world. I’ve always looked up to him. He was an excellent student, a hard worker in every aspect of his life. He even opened up a gym in town that has been very successful. I wanted so much to be like him that I thought I would give my own business venture a try.

  I moved to Oregon to start my own clothing line when I learned Ashland was the place to be in the up and coming world of sportswear. After watching how easy it was for Nathan to launch a thriving business, I thought it would be a piece of cake for me as well. Turns out it wasn’t. Starting a business is easy, but keeping it afloat is not. Despite some really great feedback on the clothes, I just wasn’t making enough to sustain the business. I ended up failing spectacularly and losing all my savings in the process.

  “Come here and give me a hug!” Nathan says, charging toward me with all of his brawn. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and squeezes the life out of me. Clearly he’s been using his own gym to his advantage. His arms are like boa constrictors.

  When he finally pulls away, I’m able to breathe. “Just like old times, right?” he says, motioning toward the house. “You and me, thick as thieves, just down the hall from each other.”

  As upset as I am about my business failing, I have to admit, the terrible twosome—as my parents liked to call us—are back together again. We used to have so much fun together. We both love scary movies, and we would stay up all night watching them back to back. Even though I loved those kinds of movies, they gave me nightmares, and I’d always come running to Nathan in the middle of the night instead of my parents. He would send me back to my room with his blue Star Wars light saber nightlight, and I’d sleep like a baby.

  “It’s good to be home,” I admit.

  He glances at my trunk full of my stuff. “You haven’t started unpacking yet?”

  “No, I was tired when I got here so I took a nap.”

  “Well, let’s get you settled in and we’ll go have pizza.”

  He grabs a box and I grab two bags of clothes, and we head toward the house. He reaches for the door handle and turns the knob. It’s locked. He looks confused. “Why did you lock the door if you were coming out here to grab your stuff?”

  Shit, I didn’t think about that. “Old habit. You know how terrible the neighborhood was where I lived in Oregon. We locked our doors just to check the mail,” I say, quick with the lie.

  It’s not entirely untrue. The neighborhood I lived in wasn’t that bad, but there had been several car break-ins. The town was mostly college kids and retired people, but it did have its fair share of crime. More than here, anyway. In the suburb where I grew up, people rarely locked their doors.

  “I, for one, am glad you’re out of that place and away from that jackass you were living with. I never liked him, you know,” Nathan says.

  “I know. You told me every time we talked on the phone.”

  We load the boxes into the house. As I’m going outside to grab the last one, Mac is out in his yard, washing his car. He smiles and gives me a wave, and my heart melts all over again. When Nathan comes out, I hurry and look away.

  Once all the boxes are in my room, I start to go through some of my old things. The room was left just as it was when I moved out. I figured Nathan would’ve turned it into an office or weight room by now, but nothing has changed. There’s at least five years worth of dust on all the surfaces. Doesn’t look like he’s ever stepped foot in it. I guess that’s a good thing, because as I explore, I find a shoebox full of pictures of Mac I’d saved throughout high school. Under the bed is one of Mac’s old practice jerseys he’d accidentally left of on the bus on his way home. I’d seen it on the seat as we were filing off the bus and had shoved it in my backpack. It still has the sweaty funk of teenage boy on it even after all these years. The smell takes me right back to high school like it was only yesterday and I was in my room pining over a boy I thought I could never have.

  Not that I have him now. It was only sex, after all. Who knows how long he’s here for. Now that I think about it, it seems strange that he’s home. I follow the Whalers on all their social media accounts, and they sent out a Tweet recently that said they were traveling to Germany for a game. I know they have rigorous practices the weeks leading up to the games, so why is Mac home? He should be with his team—unless he’s hurt. Though, with the way he was moving in the bedroom, he definitely doesn’t seem hurt. I’ll have to ask him next time I get the chance. If anything, it will give me an excuse to talk to him again.

  Nathan and I leave to go have pizza. Mac’s car is gone. I wish I could have gone on that drive with him. When we get to the pizza place we sit in a corner booth. This is the same pizza place our parents took us to as kids. Nothing about it has changed. Still has the same floral wallpaper and picture of chubby Italian cartoon guy holding a pizza on the door. Coming home is like stepping back in time.

  I can’t stop thinking about Mac and I’m curious about my brother’s old rivalry with him. Now that they’re both adults and no longer in competition, I wonder if things have changed between them.

  “It was weird seeing Mac Stillwell when I was unloading the boxes from my car,” I say tentatively.

  My brother’s whole demeanor changes at the mention of Mac. He takes a bite of the slice of sausage and pepperoni in his hand and chews it like that bite did him dirty.

  “Yeah,” he says, stuffing his face again.

  I should leave it alone. He obviously doesn’t want to talk about it. But …

  “Remember how much you used to hate him?” I say. I just can’t let it go. I need to know more.

  Nathan sets his pizza down on his plate and balls his fists as if he’s holding himself back from throwing something. “I still hate him. More than ever.”

  More than ever? I understand their high school sports rivalry, but now? What, did Mac not cut his lawn to the neighborhood regulations? Is his yard not as tidy as Nathan would like? It doesn’t make any sense.

  “Why now more than ever?” I prod.

  “That asshole came back to town and the first thing he did was open a gym. He’s going to put me out of business.”

  Mac never mentioned that. Then again, we didn’t really get around to talking about our lives. We were too busy with other things.

  “I’m sure there’s plenty of room in this town for more than one gym,” I say

  “There isn’t, and you know it. Whose gym do you think people are going to go to? Just some average Joe’s, or the famous soccer player’s who has girls dropping their panties at the sight of him?”

  My face grows hot and melts into a frown. He’s right. Mac is beloved worldwide. Men want to be just like him, and women want to be all over him. I was barely home ten minutes before I was naked in his bed, giving him my virginity.

  “I’m sorry, Nate, I had no idea. I doubt he did it to hurt your business—” I start to say when Nathan cuts m
e off before I can get another word in.

  “Mac is a piece of shit, Wanda. He doesn’t care who he steps on to get what he wants. I want you to stay away from him. He’s not a good guy. I have no doubt he’ll take one look at you and try to get you into bed.”

  My heart slams against my chest and I fear Nathan will see the guilt written all over my face. If he finds out I slept with Mac, he’ll kick me out and our close bond will never be the same. I can’t let him find out.

  When we leave the pizza place, I’m exhausted. Between the drive from Oregon to Washington, and my wild time with Mac, my eyes can’t stay open another minute. Nathan pulls the truck in the driveway and I see that Mac’s car is in the driveway. The light in the living room is on. I can’t help but think that Nathan is wrong about him. I don’t want to believe that Mac would deliberately open a gym knowing it will take business away from my brother. If that were the case, would he stoop so low as to sleep with Nathan’s sister just to piss him off further? Does their hatred for each other run that deep?

  My stomach gets queasy as I start to wonder if I lost my virginity to someone who was only out to hurt my brother.

  3

  The next morning when Nathan gets up to go to work, I go through his cupboards looking for something to eat. Everything is gluten free, preservative free, free of nitrites and nitrates, no saturated or trans fats, no sugar—in other words, no flavor. Nathan might want to eat like he’s in prison, but I’m not about that life.

  I get showered and dressed and head for the grocery store. There’s only one in town. I figured by now the town would’ve grown large enough to afford another grocery store, but alas, no.

  I pull into the parking lot and head inside. The temperature drops at least ten degrees in the building and smells like fresh produce. I won’t be needing any of that. Nathan has the fridge stocked with everything leafy and green you can imagine. What I need are things in boxes. If it doesn’t have 80% of my daily intake of sugar and sodium in one serving, I’m not interested.

  I head for the sugary cereals and run into Sarah Boyd.

  “Oh my God, Wanda, is that you?”

  “Sarah Boyd, it’s been ages,” I say, genuinely happy to see her.

  Sarah was one of my good friends in high school. She used to come to all of my sleep overs.

  She lifts up her hand to show me her ring. “It’s Sarah Sanderson now.”

  “Sanderson, as in Keith Sanderson?” Keith was a total stoner in high school. His dad owned the auto mall in town. Last I heard, Keith had gotten his shit together and was running the family business now. Even though I moved away, I was never without the gossip when I talked to old friends on the phone—though they failed to mention Mac was back in town last time we spoke. How that could slip their minds is a mystery to me. Sarah was the only one I lost contact with.

  “He’s the one,” she says proudly. “We got married straight out of high school and have two beautiful children.”

  Children … She’s the same age as me, give or take a couple months. I can’t imagine being married with two children at twenty-three years old.

  “Wow, congratulations,” I say.

  “I’m so happy you’re back. You won’t believe who else is in town.” I already know the answer, but I feign ignorance because she looks far too excited to spill the gossip.

  “Who?” I say as if I’m on the edge of my seat.

  “Mac Stillwell.”

  “No shit? That’s crazy.”

  She nods vigorously. “Yep, and he’s living next door to your brother.”

  “That’s so wild. I guess I’ll probably see him at some point since I’m staying with Nathan until I can find a place on my own.”

  I leave out the part that I’m flat broke and in debt and will probably live with Nathan the rest of my life.

  Her eyes grow wide. “Girl, we need to have a sleep over like the old days, get out the binoculars and watch Mac exercise.”

  I laugh. We were basically stalkers now that I think of it. But I have to admit, it was so much fun having the girls over and drooling over my hot neighbor.

  “I don’t think your husband will appreciate that,” I say.

  She rolls her eyes. “Please, he’d be thrilled to get me out of the house for a night.”

  “That sounds like fun, actually,” I say.

  It doesn’t. I want Mac all to myself, but I’m not going to admit it.

  Her phone starts going off. She looks down at the screen and growls at it. “It’s Keith wondering what’s taking so long. I swear that man can’t handle his own kids more than an hour before he loses his mind. He’s always saying how being a stay at home mom is the easiest job there is, but he has no idea the shit I have to deal with on a daily basis.”

  I smile and she leans over to hug me. “It was good to see you again. I mean it, let’s have a girls’ night. If not to spy on your neighbor, then to get sloppy drunk and forget our problems.”

  I wonder how happily married she actually is.

  “It’s a plan.”

  As soon as she walks away, I see three other people I knew from high school, but luckily, not well enough to where they feel compelled to stop and talk to me.

  The next aisle over, I run straight into Mac. I startle, dropping my keys. It’s a good thing I didn’t have groceries in my hands. I’m stunned to see him here in a place that’s so … mundane. All of my fantasies involve him being in romantic places. For some reason it never occurred to me that he actually goes shopping and does things that normal people do.

  “Hello again,” he says with a cocksure grin. It’s almost as if he was expecting to run into me.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” I say dumbly. Obviously he’s grocery shopping, but like me, he has nothing in his hands yet.

  He shrugs off the stupid comment, and says, “It’s good to see you again.”

  I think about my conversation with Nathan last night, and I feel a little wary of him, even though standing here, right in front of him with his beautiful face and stunning smile, it’s hard to see him the way my brother does, as a conniving back stabber. But I know, better than anyone, that a pretty face can hide all kinds of secrets. My ex was no slouch in the looks department—though he was no Mac Stillwell by any means—and he lied right to my face for years without me ever being suspicious.

  “It’s good to see you too,” I say, trying not to sound as blissed out by his presence as I do. Why the hell does this have to be so confusing? I should hate him for what he’s done to Nathan, but he’s making it so damn difficult.

  He steps closer to me, his warmth radiating off of him in the cold store. He leans over and talks quietly under his breath in a sexy voice. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Last night I masturbated to the thought of you. I want to taste and smell your sweet pussy and I miss the sight of that perfect ass slamming up against me.”

  His dirty words instantly make me wet. It’s hard to think, to concentrate, to even care that we’re in a grocery store surrounded by people.

  “I can still smell you on my sheets,” he continues. “It makes me crazy.”

  I think about all the times I looked into his window from my room, hoping to catch him masturbating, but never did. If only I had looked out my window last night instead of going straight to bed.

  I’m breathing heavier. My palms start to sweat.

  “I need to taste you. I want your warm pussy around my cock,” he says.

  “I can’t …” I start to say, but he grabs me by the hand and he’s dragging me away. At first I think he’s going to whisk me off in his car, back to his place, but instead we turn and we’re heading to the back of the store.

  “What are we doing?” I ask, confused when we go through the double doors and into the back of the store where the loading dock is and where there are crates of food stacked to the ceiling waiting to be put on shelves.

  “I used to work here when I was in high school. I kn
ow all the good hiding spots,” he says with a wink.

  “Wait, you want to have sex here, in the grocery story?” I start to pull away, but his grip tightens.

  “Trust me,” he says.

  I’m nervous, but also thrilled to be doing something so dangerous. My brain starts to fog over from the thought of being with him again, and suddenly I’m no longer worried about getting caught. All I want is to be with him again, to feel him inside of me. Right now I would follow him anywhere.

  He leads us to the back of the room where there’s a storage closet full of cleaning supplies. There’s a pallet of paper towels, packed tightly so that when he has me sit on them, they don’t buckle from my weight.

  “Are you sure no one is going to come in here?” I ask, not waiting for him to answer as I unbutton my shorts.

  “This is where they keep the extra cleaning supplies when the others are all used up in the break room. No one ever comes in here—at least not this time of day.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  We hurry to take off our clothes. This is not the time nor the place for sensual love-making. Both of us are very aware that this is going to be a quick fuck. I, for one, am totally okay with that.

  He yanks down my shorts and underwear. They dangle off my ankle as he lays me down and spreads my legs. He kneels in front of me and smiles. “Doesn’t take much to turn you on, does it?” he says as he runs his finger across my slick opening.

  “Not when it comes to you,” I admit.

  He puts his mouth around my clit and works his magic until my eyes start to roll in the back of my head. A finger slides into me and I pull in a sharp breath. I hadn’t forgotten what it was like to have something inside of me, I just forgot the extent of exactly how good it could feel. He pulls away and lays on top of the pallet of paper towels and says, “Sit on my face.”