by Carina Adams
Grady pulled away much too quickly, and my hands automatically went to his face. One hand cupped a cheek, and a tip of another finger made a trail down the center of his little nose. It was something I’d done millions of times during his life, and it had become a natural comfort to each of us.
The mini-man smiled at me, then his eyes narrowed in concern. “What’s wrong?”
I almost laughed. He’d always worried about me and been very compassionate, but over the last few months, he’d matured. He’d forgotten, on more than one occasion, that he was the child and I was the mom. I put him in his place, but every now and then he had what I dubbed Callaghan Cockiness. The same attitude I’d gotten from his uncle hundreds of times.
“Nothing,” I said.
He crossed his little arms, clearly not believing me, and looked so much like his father in that moment that I shook my head. “I don’t believe you.”
Of course he didn’t. Jesus. “I’m tired, Grady. That’s it.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, but Declan interrupted him. “Your mom has a lot going on, kid. Cut her some slack.”
Cranky Grady disappeared in an instant, and my kid was back. “You should go get some rest, Mom. We don’t have plans this weekend, do we?”
“Actually,” Fi spoke up, snagging all of our attention, “I was hoping to steal you this afternoon, Grady. My date canceled, and there’s a new movie I really want to see. Whadya say, kid? Lunch and a movie with your old aunt?”
He was torn. I could tell he really wanted to go with Fi, but when he looked at Declan, I knew that he also didn’t want to leave his uncle. Dec saw it too.
“You should go, Grady. Let your mom rest. I’ve got a bunch of shit”—he snapped his mouth shut and sent me a guilty look—“stuff. I’ve got a bunch of stuff to get done this afternoon, but maybe I can come down to visit you tomorrow?”
The last was said in a question, and Grady turned to me. “Can he, Mom? Come visit tomorrow, I mean?”
Fi clapped, bringing the attention back to her once more. “I have an even better idea!”
Her lips curved into a sinister smile, and I rolled my eyes, knowing I would not like whatever she was going to say. Fi and her goddamn ideas.
“Why don’t you and I head to the movies, then you can come back here and spend the night with me?” Fi said. “That way your mom can get some rest, and she and your uncle Declan can meet us back here for lunch tomorrow?” She raised her hands as if it was the best idea ever. “Everyone wins.”
“It can be Uncle Dec’s homecoming party!”
Fuck me. My eyes moved around the room.
Declan wasn’t looking at them but staring at me instead. “I think that sounds like the perfect plan.”
Of course he did. I was outvoted.
I nodded and did what I always did—put a smile on my face and pretended. “You’re right. Sounds like a perfect plan.”
No. No, it didn’t. Knowing I would be with him tomorrow would mean another sleepless night for me. Shit.
Before I could even stand, Grady had darted from the room to find his jacket, then he came back in to hug me good-bye. He threw his arms around Dec too, making my heart hurt. And then, with a reminder to let the dogs out before I left, my safety nets disappeared.
“Wow.”
Dec chuckled. “Same old Fi. Moves like the devil himself is always on her tail and that if she hesitates for just one minute to think things through, she’ll lose her chance.”
I nodded. That was definitely Fiona. I stood, needing to be on even ground. “What are you doing, Dec?”
He arched a brow, lifting his cup in my direction. “Drinking coffee.”
I shook my head, walked to the island, and braced myself against it.
He set his cup down, pushed himself off the counter, and leaned into the other side of the island. “I didn’t know Grady was going to be here.” He shrugged. “If I had, I probably wouldn’t have come.”
My stomach knotted. This was when he was going to tell me he wouldn’t be back tomorrow and I would have to lie to my son. I’d explain that his uncle had a lot on his plate, but it had nothing to do with him. I took a deep breath.
Then he tipped his head. “I should have come months ago.”
I lifted my chin, completely surprised, waiting for him to say more.
“I missed eleven years, Gabs. I have a lot to make up for.”
I felt as though he was talking about more than Grady. I searched his eyes, not sure what to say. There he was, my best friend, the one person who had been everything to me. Now he was a stranger.
“We never really got a chance to talk last night.”
That made me cough out a laugh. “We had two hours to talk—you weren’t interested. Before that, I talked. You yelled. Seemed like we were done. Then you lied. Now we are done.”
His eyes sparkled. “I’ll yell more before this is over.”
His voice was low, threatening, but he didn’t scare me. He never had. This was getting us nowhere. I couldn’t talk to him without bringing my A-game, and today was not a day when I could do that.
Straightening, I backed away from the island and headed for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Dec.”
He sidestepped, blocking the entrance. I’d kicked off my shoes when I got there, so my eyes were level with his chest. He was wearing a different shirt than he’d had on yesterday—this one a black long-sleeved T with a slight V-neck. I stared at that spot of bare chest, unable to look away.
“Where are you going?” He was so close I could almost feel the words rumble out of his chest.
I fought the urge to tip my head back and look up. “Home.”
His fingers moved against his jean-clad thigh, almost as if he was trying to prevent them from moving. Please don’t touch me, please don’t touch me, I chanted silently, all the while hoping that he would.
“Gabby.” The word was no more than a whisper, yet it held so much emotion that I could almost feel his pain.
Fingers slid from his thigh to my hip, burning a path up my side to my arm, up to my shoulder, then to my neck and my cheek. His palm was warm against my already hot skin, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he forced my head back, chin up, making me look at him.
I wanted to kiss him. I didn’t know much about anything in that moment, but I knew I wanted his lips on mine. That would screw things up between us even more than they were, yet I’d learned the hard way that if you didn’t take chances when they fell into your lap, you may never get them again.
I moved into him, completely unsure of how he’d react but not caring. Before I could yank his lips down to mine, a distant memory hit me like a fly ball.
Suddenly Fi’s kitchen disappeared, and I was in the backyard of his parents’ house.
I hated parties. Little known fact, but true. Kids in high school liked to pretend that we weren’t clueless idiots, and once they got that red Solo cup in their hands, they became downright dumb. I’d much rather be at home, watching reruns or tucked into bed and reading.
Parties in this town were filled with loud music, booze, drugs, and shit I didn’t want to be around. Plus, there was the mandatory argument with Dustin. I didn’t want to fight with him tonight. I just wanted one night of drama-free existence. Was that really too much to ask?
Apparently if you were dating the city’s favorite bad boy, it was. Which was one reason I’d escaped to the quiet of the backyard.
He could do whatever he wanted with the girls in there—it was a free country. I didn’t want to see it happening though. The worst part was that I didn’t care.
Well, that wasn’t true. It bugged the shit out of me.
I wasn’t jealous. I was embarrassed.
The people who saw him in there tonight, with a girl who wasn’t me hanging off him, would give me pitying looks whenever they saw me. The girls who he’d touch, the ones who didn’t care that he was only using them or that his girlfriend was downstairs, would smirk a
t me and talk about me in the halls at school.
They all acted as though I was some cold-hearted tease who wouldn’t put out. Others thought I was such a bad lay that he had to find his satisfaction elsewhere. Or that he was just too much man for me.
We’d been dating for almost a year, off and on. It had its ups and downs. We’d argue, he’d rage, I’d leave, then he’d think clearly and beg me to come back. I always did.
We hadn’t had sex yet. We’d done everything else, numerous times, but never actually done the deed. Every time he brought it up, every time we got to the point of no return, I backed away. Dustin was a controlling jerk who I liked to let think he had the upper hand, but he never pushed me to go all the way.
He’d nod, kiss me on the forehead, and leave. He never called me a tease, because he knew that I would take care of him if he needed me to. I just didn’t want to sleep with him yet.
It wasn’t about stringing him along or playing hard to get. I wasn’t a clueless little virgin. But Dustin was intense. He liked to do things I’d only ever heard about, things that teetered on the border of making me uncomfortable.
He liked it rough, enjoyed tying me down and leaving marks on my body so that others would know I was taken. And he liked it when I left my mark on him. I thought it was fucked up, so I wasn’t ready to take the next step yet. I knew one day an ultimatum would come, but I didn’t know which option I’d choose.
Every time he got drunk or high, which was all the fucking time, he got horny. Which meant I either had to spend a shit ton of time on my knees having my hair yanked, or act as if I didn’t care if he slept with other people. I chose option two.
My best friend, Ivy, hated Dusty. She couldn’t understand why I would waste my time on someone like him when so many other boys would be a better option. The answer was that I didn’t know why.
Dustin was gorgeous. His mother told me once that they were “black Irish,” which I’d had to look up because I thought it referenced their black souls. It actually just meant they had dark hair and darker skin than their redheaded fair-skinned countrymen.
Wherever he got his looks from, he turned heads. Dustin was tall with wide shoulders and a commanding presence. His facial features though made women notice him. I liked his eyes the best—almond-shaped deep chocolates that were so unique they could almost hypnotize you.
When he wasn’t being a dick, he was fun to be around. We laughed a lot when he was sober. And the best part was that being around Dustin allowed me to be around Declan. Even thinking of Dec now made me regret calling Ivy my best friend. She was my best girl friend. Dec was my best friend. I hated the days when I couldn’t talk to him.
When Dusty and I were on breaks, or when we were fighting, it meant no Declan. Bros before hoes or some pathetic bullshit. Declan was afraid of his brother—at least, I assumed he was because everyone else was—so I had no doubt that played a part in it. If Dustin couldn’t talk to me, then neither could Declan.
It was stupid as shit. I pretended it didn’t bother me, but it hurt. I didn’t have any siblings, and maybe if I did, I’d feel differently, but it made me sad either way. I wanted Dec around all the time.
If I was being completely honest, the reason I wouldn’t break up with Dustin for good was because I didn’t want to lose Declan.
“Why are you hiding out here?”
I tensed, not recognizing the voice that had startled me out of my heavy thoughts, and for a minute, I was afraid to turn around. But Dustin wouldn’t come out here looking for me. No, if he needed me, he’d tear apart the house then stand on the deck, bellowing my name. If that didn’t work, he’d send one of his pathetic followers after me.
Only one person would come find me. “Dec.”
Instead of plopping down in the swing next to me, as he had so many times, he moved in behind me. Grabbing the chain just above my hands, he leaned against my back. “Why are you hiding out here, Little G?”
I smiled at the way he said little. He always, always added an adorable Irish accent to it. It had been his nickname for me ever since his dad had driven me home months ago. He never used it when anyone else was around, making me love it even more. It was our secret. Tonight though, he was slurring his words more than a fake accent required.
I leaned back against him, giggling. “Are you drunk?”
“Me? No,” he scoffed. “I only had a few.” He wrapped one arm around me, holding the other out and picking up four fingers. “This many. Five. I only had five.”
I laughed again, standing and taking his hand to lead him over to the lawn chair. I pushed him down on it gently, so he was sitting, and I didn’t have to worry about him passing out and hitting his head on the patio.
Before I could move to sit next to him, he pulled me between his open legs and hugged me. “I love you.” One of his ears was pressed to my stomach, his arms a vise grip around my back.
I smiled as I ran my fingers through his hair. “As I love you, my friend.”
I was shoved back half a step as he stood clumsily, almost knocking us over. Dec had grown significantly over the last few months, but he was nowhere near his brother’s size. I could easily look him in the eyes without hurting my neck.
Right then, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him though. The air had grown heavier suddenly, thick with a tension I couldn’t explain. A thousand and five emotions swirled through me, most completely inappropriate. I wished I’d had a drink earlier so I could blame my feelings on the alcohol, but I was pathetically sober.
“Why are you with him? He doesn’t deserve you. He’s stupid. Actually stupid, Gabs. And he’s mean. A fucking prick.”
I stared at Declan’s neck, unable to argue with anything he was saying.
“He has you. You’re all alone out here, and he’s in there with them. Tell me, baby. Explain why you’re with him.” He spit out the last few words as if Dustin was something dirty.
“I don’t know.” If I couldn’t answer the question for myself, how in the hell was I going to answer it for him?
His fingers moved quickly, skimming up the back of my tank top, massaging the back of my neck for a moment, then he cupped my cheek, forcing my head back slightly. “God, Gabby.” The words were a whispered plea. “I want to kiss you so fucking bad it hurts.” He groaned, his thumb caressing my cheek, his dark eyes full of things I couldn’t begin to understand.
I didn’t think about it. My hand grabbed a section of his shirt, and I took a deep breath. “Then kiss me.”
He inhaled sharply as if my words were a surprise. I’d seen Dec drunk one other time—that was how rare it was—and I knew there was no way in hell he would remember this in the morning. It was safe. Declan was safe.
I thought it would be a quick peck on the mouth, or maybe a slobbery wet kiss like the ones his brother gave, shoving his tongue down my throat as if he was trying to find the tonsils I’d had removed when I was little.
I’d never been more wrong.
The hand on my cheek stayed there, but his other fisted the hair at the back of my skull, forcing me to tip my head back a little more. He leaned in, sliding his nose up the side of my throat, inhaling as if I had the most divine scent in the entire world. His lips went to the space right behind the bottom of my ear first, kissing, nibbling, and teasing across my jaw as goose bumps erupted over my entire body. His nose met mine in the sweetest Eskimo kiss, then his lips were on mine.
Nothing about the way he moved his lips against mine, swept his tongue over each of my lips before closing his teeth around the bottom one, was what I expected. I leaned into him, my nails pressing into his back, needing him closer. Needing more.
When he moved back, I almost cried. Then his teeth were on my neck, doing things that made me forget who we were and where we were. When he laid me back on the chaise lounge, I didn’t fight him. When he covered my body with his, my mind only focused on how important it was to get his shirt off, and I yanked it up and over his head.
&nb
sp; Nothing about Declan made me think that my fingers would find baby soft and smooth skin covering a strong back full of toned muscle. He felt amazing, and I never wanted to stop touching him. As he pushed my tank up, giving him access to my stomach, I raked my nails down his back. I wanted him closer, damn it!
I lifted up, grinding my hips against his, and gasped at the hardness I felt. I needed him naked, and I needed it now. I let go of his back and attacked his belt, trying to get it off him as quickly as possible.
“Shit! Gabs, stop!”
My hands fell away as Declan’s entire body weight dropped onto me, his head between the breasts that were still heaving as I tried to catch my breath. I felt his heart beating as fast as mine, and he was gasping for air too. It couldn’t have just been me, right?
“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” I tried to force the panic away, but my mind was racing. Why in the hell did he stop?
He shook his head as much as he could. “We can’t do this.” He sounded just as horrified as I felt.
Why in the hell not? I wanted to scream in frustration or demand answers.
“He’s my brother. As much as I hate him, he’s still my brother. And he’s your boyfriend.”
Shame spread over me like cold water from a bucket.
After pushing himself off me, he yanked me to my feet. Risking one more touch, he leaned in for a last kiss. That one was just a peck. “Forgive me?”
I couldn’t look at him. Five seconds ago, I’d been squirming under him, ready to beg him to fuck me. I wouldn’t sleep with his brother, my boyfriend, after months of dating him, but I’d give it up to Declan at a party. Sober. What in the hell was I thinking?
“What are you thinking about?”
My face flamed—at the memory or at the question, I wasn’t sure, and I was grateful that Dec had no idea what I was thinking. “Dustin’s first college party,” I mumbled, knowing he wouldn’t understand.
I touched his chest, unsure of what I was doing or why, but I needed to hold on to that connection from my past. Dec’s heart was thundering away, just as fast as mine. I met his eyes. They’d turned dangerously dark, his face hard, and I knew he was remembering something. Not that night. He’d been way too drunk, and he’d never brought it up. Not once in all these years. But something was wrong.
