by S J Batsford
~*~
“Well, that’s the living room looking normal again. That was hard work,” I moan, looking around proudly at our work. Mason huffs out a laugh collapsing onto the sofa.
“Well, it would have been much harder for you… If you had done any lifting.” He nudges me.
“Well, excuse me, Mr, Muscles. How many hands have you had to shake today? My poor arms feel like lead weights.” Pouting at him, I bat my eyelashes as Nan comes into the living room.
“Well, I’m going to bed. You staying Mason?” Nan asks.
He nods. “if that’s okay?”
“Course it is, honey. Good night, you two,” she calls already on her way up the stairs.
“Do you want to watch a movie with me, Mr, Muscles?” I say nudging him.
“Hey, watch out. I’m sore from all the hard labour you’ve made me do and holding all those cougars off wasn’t easy you know.” His eyes laughing. I shove him in the ribs again.
“Okay, lady killer. What we going to watch?” I quip.
“Let’s see what’s on first,” he says getting comfy holding an arm out for me. I snuggle into him loving our friendship. I never thought I’d be this close and comfortable with any man, without some sort of commitment.
~*~
Chapter Five.
Ugh, what the hell is that? I sit up as the noise stops. I look at the clock, it’s five a.m. Fuck. It’s too early to be awake on a Saturday.
I jump as the ringing starts again looking around I try to find the offending object. Which turns out to be Mason’s phone, wedged in the cushion of the sofa.
“Hello?” I ask, groggily.
There’s silence from the other end. So, I look at the screen, then ask, “Is anyone there?” I ask considering disconnecting as an angry man answers.
“Who is this?” He demands on the other end. By his tone, I gather its Mason’s dad.
“Erm, Lily. Hang on please?” I say, shaking Mason.
“Mace, Mace? I think it’s your dad on the phone.” He rolls over cuddling me, murmuring in his sleep and making me giggle.
“MACE!” I shout in his ear.
“Ah… What the hell? You scared the shit out me. What was that for?” He grouches rubbing his face. I fall into a fit of giggles at his reaction.
Well, I was rudely woken up by his noisy phone. Why shouldn’t he be awake too?
“Your phone, I think it’s your dad,” I gasp, handing him his phone. “I’ll go start you some coffee, you’re going to need it by the sounds of it.” I get up still groggy.
“Dad?”
I don’t catch anymore as I head to the kitchen. God, it’s way too early to be up. Rude arse couldn’t wait till a decent hour to phone?
I go about putting the kettle on for coffee and tea. Switch on the radio. While getting stuff out to make a full English. I haven’t had one in ages.
Putting the sausages and hash browns in the oven. Whilst chopping mushrooms and getting tomatoes out the cupboard and eggs from the fridge, I hum quietly, my thoughts once again sporadic. Nan must still be in bed.
“What are you making?” Mace asks sneaking up on me, I jump shooting him a nasty look over my shoulder.
“What does it look like? It’s breakfast.”
He comes to look fully over my shoulder. “Are you sure? I haven’t seen a breakfast like that before.”
“Yes, I’m sure, you numpty. It’s a Full English.” I elbow him in the gut.
“Well, it smells good... So, I guess I can give it a try,” he grunts rubbing his belly.
“Oh, well, thank you, kind sir,” I roll my eyes.
“You're welcome, my lady,” he mocks, bowing and making me giggle.
“Okay, wise arse, was it your dad?” I ask, once again concentrating on what I’m chopping.
“Yeah, it was. He wanted to know where I was last night, who you were, whether you’re my girlfriend and whether we were having sex,” he laughs.
I drop my spatula, stunned that his dad would ask those sorts of questions. I remember what he said about not being able to screw around with anyone, but Jesus.
He creases as I stare at him in astonishment and horror.
I mean just… Eww. The thought grosses me out. Mace is hot, but I’ve never thought of him that way.
“What did you say? I suppose it was quite suspicious my answering your phone half asleep and waking you up. He obviously knew you were there beside me.” I allow feeling culpable. “I’m sorry,” I add apologetically.
Shrugging, he grins. “Well, to be honest, it was quite funny. He was all flustered and pissed. Don’t worry, I told him we’re friends and you’re more like a sister than a fuck buddy,” he chuckles wiggling his eyebrows. I chuck a tea towel at him.
“Shut up, you arse.” Shaking my head, I go back to my cooking.
“You know. I haven’t forgotten about our conversation yesterday. I still want to know,” he says amused. I freeze, looking at him over my shoulder.
“Which one? We had so many,” I raise an eyebrow.
“You know what I’m talking about. The guy who got you all hot and bothered. Tell me about him. You obviously liked him. You noticed enough,” he says ribbing me.
“Aww, come on. I won’t be seeing him again. I only got his name, age and what he looks like. He works for his step-dad and that he’s from here,” I say placing his plate in front of him and sitting opposite him with my own, trying not to fidget under his incredulous stare.
“Then, tell me you don’t like him and you don’t want to see him again,” he challenges watching me intently.
“Okay. So, I liked him. He was hot! Yes, I would’ve liked to have seen him again. To see if the connection I felt was real.” I curse, watching him out of the corner of my eye. A slow grin creeps onto his face. His eyes laugh at me, so I kick him under the table.
“Ow, that hurt.” He rubs his leg.
“It was supposed to. Now, what do you want to know?”
“Everything you know but hold the swooning over his hot bod. You told me that bit.” He shudders dramatically.
“Do I have to? I’ll sound as pathetic as I feel,” I whine, slouching in my chair.
“Yes, you pry into my love life, as it is concerning Millie. So, come on, Miss Mouth.”
I growl at that name. “What’s with the nicknames?”
He points at me smiling. “If the shoe fits. Now, stop changing the subject,” he says getting comfortable.
“Okay, he’s twenty-three. Works for his step-dad. Don’t know what he does. He’s from here and his name’s Ethan. That’s all I know. Can we drop it now, please?”
His face is a combination of shock, confusion and curiousness.
“So, let me get this straight. His name is Ethan. He’s twenty-three. Works for his step-dad. He’s from San Diego. He’s tall, light brown hair, hazel eyes with green in them. Is that all of it? Was he in London on business?” he asks warily.
“Yeah, you got it all and yes, he was. I told you that already,” I groan.
“Do you have a last name?”
“Yes, it’s Barker. What’s with all the questions Mace?” I grumble holding my head.
Mason looks back at me, his expression frozen in shock.
“You okay?” I ask moving to the other side of the table, crouching beside him. He mumbles something, but I can’t hear it. Then laughs.
“Oh, my gosh. Are you okay? You’re acting a little nuts.”
“This is hilarious, I know him,” he exclaims, abruptly sobering from his laughing fit.
“How do you know Ethan?” I whisper softly.
This just got awkward. How can he know him? He’s what? Five years older than Mason?
Mason turns fully to me. Takes my hands like he’s talking to a child and explains.
“I know him. If it’s the same person and I think it is, I can’t believe it. All this time you had a thing for my brother,” he cringes, then laughs at my face.
I fall on my arse, stun
ned. Eyes popping out of my head.
“What? What do you mean your brother? His last name is Barker not Scott.” I say feeling dumb for stating the obvious.
He pulls me up and drags me into the living room, sitting me on the sofa, clasping my hands in his much bigger ones.
He chuckles, “I know, this is unbelievable, but if this is the same man and I know it is; Ethan is my older, half-brother. My mom had Ethan and Niles at eighteen. Barker is her maiden name. Not long after, she and dad found each other again. They were together back in high school dad was nearly twenty-two at the time. My mom’s younger, but they fell in love again,” his speech rushed.
I’m stunned, “Twins?” I utter in astonishment.
“Yeah, twins. That’s all you can come up with? You have the hots for my brother.” He shudders, looking mildly sick.
I smack him in the gut. “Hey, it’s not that bad. We still don’t know if it’s the same person” I say ruffling his hair.
“We could find out,” he sings waving his phone in my face and I jump on him.
“Oh no, you don’t. You are not calling him. What would you say? Hey, Ethan did you by any chance did you meet a girl named Lily on your last flight back from London?” I imitate him sarcastically.
“Well, I wasn’t, but that’s a good idea. Hang on,” he mumbles distractedly, clicking away on his phone. I lunge for the phone.
“No. Mace. That will just make me look sad and pathetic.”
His head swings my way. Oh god, he’s smirking. That is not good, I can practically see the cogs turning in his head.
“Oh, come on. Would I do that to you? I was just going to show you a photo of him. You can tell me if he’s a dreamy as you remember,” he says, clasping his hands on his cheeks.
I clobber him with a pillow “I never said the word dreamy. I said gorgeous.” I stick my tongue out.
“Okay, let’s see if my big bro is the man of your wet dreams.” He laughs at his own joke.
“Eww, Mace. I wouldn’t talk about that stuff with you before and definitely not if the man of said dreams is your brother. And before you jump all over what I just said. I didn’t say I had any dreams about him. Wet or otherwise. Just that if... I had, I wouldn’t be discussing them with you. I’d call Millie,” I joke.
“I really don’t want to know the content of your wet dreams about my brother, thanks. So, keep those little deets for your conversations with Millie,” he grumbles cringing.
“Okay, here we go. This the most recent picture. You ready to see if we’ve found the man of your dreams?”
I roll my eyes. Leaning over I look chewing the side of my cheek. There on the screen is a picture of two men. Who look identical, but for a few differences.
One is shorter than the other, but no less hot. He has dirty blonde hair, brown eyes and a gorgeous shy smile. Next to him is a taller, buffer version with light brown hair, hazel eyes with a slight hint of light green.
Oh god, those lips… They’re both smiling at the camera with their arms around each other’s shoulders. I groan, burying my head in my hands, not looking at Mason.
“I take it from that reaction, that this is the same man you’ve been drooling over for weeks?” He snickers at my discomfort, and I nod. My head snaps up hearing tapping.
“Oh, my god. What are you doing? Mason.” I jump on his back.
“You arse. What did you send? Please tell me you didn’t,” I demand pissed.
“More or less what you suggested earlier.” He shows me his phone the text has sent.
Mason to Ethan: Hey, E. Did you meet a girl called Lily on your last flight back from London?
“I can’t believe you did that. He’ll think I’m nuts.” I storm off into the kitchen, grabbing juice and snatching a glass from the cupboard and slamming it shut.
“Come on, Lily. I’m sorry,” he whispers, looking genuinely sorry.
I spin around fully. “Well, it’s a bit late for that now,” I yell. “He’s already got it. Ugh, he’s going to think I’ve been talking about him,” I rant. Mason looks so sad that I soften.
“I’m sorry. It’s fine, maybe he won’t remember me at all,” I say hopefully. Feeling a twinge of disappointment at the idea.
“I’m really sorry, I didn’t intend to say anything. I guess I got carried away,” he whispers, looking like a little boy being scolded. I laugh at the sight of him, hands in pockets, head down scuffing his shoe nervously.
“How about popcorn and a movie?” I sigh, feeling like vegging out in my sweats.
“Yeah, why not? You can pick as a way of apologising for being an idiot. I would hate you to do something like that to me. I’m sorry,” he apologises again looking sheepish.
I smile. “Okay, but you asked for it,” I sing bouncing into the living room. I hear him groan.
I do an evil little laugh looking through the DVD's, I smirk seeing the perfect punishment, and pull out Dirty Dancing. A man’s worst nightmare.
Ah… sweet revenge. One hour, forty minutes of pure torture. I grin, setting it all up as Mason comes in with drinks and a big bowl of popcorn.
“Should we call, see if Millie wants to join?” Thinking how little time we’ve spent together lately.
“Yeah, go ahead. I’ve got to pee before the movie.” I throw popcorn at him.
“Eww, I don’t need to know that.” He chuckles, jogging off. I grab my phone and ask her.
My phone pings.
Millie: Can’t sorry. Out with mom. Meet up tomorrow to catch up?
Me: Okay, miss you. Text me the time & place.
I settle into the sofa. Grab the fleece blanket, cuddle down with the popcorn and press play.
“Come on, it’s starting.” I shout stuffing popcorn in my mouth.
“God, woman. Let a man pee in peace,” he huffs skidding into the living room, jumping the side of the sofa and snuggles with me under the blanket.
Anyone looking at us would assume we were a couple.
“So, no Millie?” he asks hesitantly. I shake my head.
“Aww, come on. Did you have to pick the most chickiest film you had?” Lifting my head, I raise my eyebrow and give him my evil smirk.
“Okay, okay. I deserve it. I won’t moan,” he zips his mouth.
I nod cause that’s what I thought. Laying my head back on his chest.
“And to answer your question. No, she’s with her mom. We’re going to meet up tomorrow. You want to join?” I mumble, stuffing popcorn into my mouth.
“I don’t know we’ll see.”
We settle in watching the movie. I’m just falling asleep when I hear the dreaded ding. Fear and excitement curl in my belly.
Mason and I look at each other there’s no doubt it's his brother replying. He grabs his phone, while I hide under the blanket not wanting to know what he said.
“Come out. Don’t you want to know what he said?” he laughs.
“Nope. I’m staying here,” I mutter.
“Aww, come on. You know you want to know,” he taunts.
“Fine,” I sigh, “but read quickly.” I bite my cheek.
He smirks at me. “Wow. Are you nervous?” He looks closely at me.
“No. Just want to get it over with,” I mutter.
“Okay. Do you want to look? Do you want me to read it, or shall we look together?” he asks, I scoot over to him.
“Together,” I answer quickly.
Ethan: Is this a joke?
Mason: No.
Ethan: Why?
I look at Mason, he looks torn. “I’m going to have to give him something or he won’t tell me” he tells me.
“No. Mace, you can’t.” My insides feel jumpy, I feel queasy.
“I have to say something or he’ll hound me.” I nod, I’m going to look like such an idiot.
Mason: Cause, I think I know the girl.
Ethan: And how would you know that. When I haven’t confirmed or denied it?
Mason: I answered your question, now you answer mine
.
Ethan: Okay. Yeah. I did, again why?
Mason: As I said, I think I know her. What’s her last name? Describe her?
“What are you doing?” I hiss.
“Finding what he remembers of you” smiling happily.
Ethan: Okay. I’ll bite. She was quite tall from what I can remember. She had long dark, wavy hair. Pulled back into a high ponytail. Soft, olive skin. Curvy, but not fat. She had amazing green eyes. Is that enough of a description?
I stare at the screen unblinking. Mason doubles over laughing. I look at him confused.
“Oh god. This is hilarious.”
“What the hell’s funny about all this? It’s embarrassing. Please stop,” I plead as his phone pings again. We freeze. Mace looks, then turns to me his eyebrows raised in astonishment.
“What?” I demand, scrambling to see the screen.
Ethan: So, now you go quiet? You started this. How do you know her? How do you know it’s the same girl?
Mason: Her last name is Carter. Here’s a pic.
“What are you doing?” I yell, his phone pings again.
Ethan: That’s her! How do you know her?
Mason: We’re friends.
Ethan: What do you mean by friends? She’s only been in San Diego a couple of months.
“Wow,” he snickers.
“Stop being an idiot,” I snip.
Mason: We met the day she got here too. She literally ran into me and fell on her ass. We’re friends. Why, do you want to know?
Ethan: Just wondered… Anyway, what’s with all the questions?
