by W Winters
One brother cares. I know he does. He looks at me like I’m a whore whenever I stay over here. And I haven’t even slept with Tyler under the Cross roof yet.
“I don’t want them to think I’m staying over just so we can have sex.”
“They don’t think that.” Tyler smiles and brushes the hair from my face as I pull the covers up closer around me. I still have my nightgown on; Tyler’s just pulled the fabric up around my waist.
“What if they think I’m using you so I don’t have to go back home? Like I’m spreading my legs just so I can have a place to stay.” I heard a girl say that at school a week ago and the thought hasn’t left me. It’s true I don’t want to go back. But I’m not a whore either.
“I have to fucking beg you to stay here, Addie. They can hear that. They know that. And we’ve been dating for how long now?”
Almost six months to the day he first tapped on my shoulder in science class.
The uneasiness still doesn’t leave me and I stare at the door until Tyler’s hand cups my chin.
“We can be quiet,” he whispers and lowers his lips to mine.
My eyes close and I let myself feel his warmth and comfort.
“Just kiss me,” he tells me as he slips his hand between my legs, parting my thighs for him.
I keep my eyes shut and try to be quiet. My muffled moans carried through the walls though and so did the unmistakable sounds and steady rhythm of Tyler fucking me.
I know because of the way Daniel looked at me late that night when I snuck into the hall to use the bathroom.
My hand was on the doorknob when he opened his bedroom door. Caught in his heated gaze, I couldn’t move; I couldn’t breathe. He let his stare trail down my nightgown before looking back into my eyes.
I’ll never forget the way my body heated for him and how my heart pounded. I thought he was going to punish me, to pin me against the wall and make me scream. That’s the way he would have fucked me. The kind of sex where you can’t keep quiet.
Instead of doing or saying anything, Daniel turned around, going straight back into his room.
I sat in the bathroom for the longest time, feeling like the worst thing in the world. Like a whore and a fraud and an ungrateful bitch.
I snuck out in my nightgown, with my clothes clenched into a ball in my hand and drove home as quickly as I could.
I didn’t go back to the Cross house for weeks. And the next time I let Tyler fuck me in his bed, I wasn’t quiet about anything.
Chapter 14
Daniel
It’s cute how she keeps looking at me like she’s waiting for me to walk away. Like how yesterday she was surprised that I told her to come over. I’ll never forget the shy look on her face. How her eyes scanned mine and she was hesitant to come back in.
So long as I’m in this small town, she needs to be in my bed. Every second I can have her. Our one-night stand turned into one week … turned into two.
I’ve waited for so long to have her. Did she think I’d have my fill of her so quickly?
As she stretches on my bed, the sheet slips and reveals more of her back, along with the curve of her waist.
I could get used to this. Waking up with her in my bed, going to sleep alongside her.
If I could keep her here forever, I would.
“That was nice,” she whispers as she rolls back over and lays her hand on my bare chest. Her finger traces up to the dip below my throat then moves lower, and lower still. Stirring my already spent dick back to life.
“Be careful what you ask for,” I warn her in a rough timbre as I hold back a groan.
I can feel her smile against my shoulder and then she laughs sweetly.
“I think I need a shower first,” she says.
“You’ll need another when I’m done with you.” I don’t miss the way her legs scissor under the sheets at my comment.
“Shower first,” she says as if she’s decided. Had I slept well at all last night, I’d slip my tongue between her thighs and convince her otherwise. But the meeting location changed yesterday and then again. It seems the message I’ve been waiting on Marcus to deliver has changed as well and Carter’s on edge with what’s coming our way.
The unwanted thought is what motivates me to get up. I’ve been in a daze with Addison. She’s a distraction.
I crack my neck and stretch my arms before getting out of bed with a twisted feeling in my gut.
With my back to Addison, she traces the small scar on the bottom of my shoulder. A scar I’ve long since forgotten. There are a few really, but they’re faint. Only one is easily seen.
“How’d you get that?” she asks me and I clench my jaw as I stand up.
She always liked my father. He was a good man … to her at least. And maybe the family business wouldn’t have survived if he hadn’t been so hard on Carter and me.
“I popped off to my father,” I explain, keeping it short and simple as I get off the bed and grab a pair of boxer briefs from the dresser. My voice sounds strained even to my own ears.
My dick’s already hard and wanting more of her, but the unpleasant reminder of my childhood makes me want to bury myself in work. I have an encrypted file I should look over with details for a big shipment coming in next week. It includes a list of new hires and Carter always gets wary when it comes to new people unloading stock.
“You popped off?” she asks and I turn around to the sound of her saddened voice. My stomach twists when I see her expression. Like she can’t believe my father would have ever struck me.
She has no idea.
“I should have known better.” My words don’t do a thing to change the look in her eyes and when they move from the thin scattering of silver scars on my back to my own gaze, all I see is sympathy. And I don’t fucking want it. Not from anyone, and sure as fuck not from her.
“Leave it alone, Addison.” I move back to the dresser for pants and a shirt, opening one drawer and slamming it shut before moving to the next.
“What did you say?” I hear her ask softly as I shut a third drawer, still not finding what I’m looking for. The fourth drawer slams shut harder than I intended.
“It doesn’t matter.” My response doesn’t faze her.
“I wouldn’t have thought he’d ever-”
“He saved that side of himself for Carter and me,” I say, cutting her off sharply before I can stop myself. Apparently the anger is stronger than I thought. Up until now I assumed the animosity was buried with him when he died.
“I’m sorry,” she says softly and it only amplifies my agitation.
The air is tense in the bedroom as I slip on a t-shirt and pajama pants, an old plaid flannel pair.
“Pass me one?” Addison asks, apparently ready to move on from the revelation that my father wasn’t the saint Tyler made him out to be.
I almost toss the black cotton Henley toward the bed, but instead I walk it to her. Letting her take it from me and when she does, her slender fingers brush against mine.
There’s nothing sexier than watching her pad around this place in nothing but my t-shirt. Her occupation means she can work anywhere, which means her ass is staying right here with me. For now.
Gripping her hand as she takes the shirt, I pull her closer to me and steal a quick kiss. And then another as I release her.
She props herself up on the bed, getting onto her knees and deepening the small kiss. As she bites gently on my bottom lip, she tangles both of her hands in my hair. I let myself fall forward, bracing my impact with one arm on either side of her.
She doesn’t open her eyes until she gives me a sweet peck right where she bit me. Her green eyes stare back at me for only a moment before she closes them again and brushes the tip of her nose against mine.
My fucking heart is a bastard for wanting to believe the kiss has anything to do with the conversation we just had. But it flips in my chest as if that little nudge and the fact that her eyes were closed meant everything in the world.
“I have to work,” I tell her and quickly bend down to plant a quick kiss on her temple. I’d better leave before I wind up doing nothing but staying in bed.
“So you don’t want to come with me to check out the campus?”
“I’m not sure there’s a polite way to say this, but fuck no.” It amazes me how easy it is to be candid with Addison. Maybe it’s because just like now, she isn’t offended or taken aback. She simply takes what I have to give and smiles.
“So you think I shouldn’t go here?” she asks and from her tone I know it’s a loaded question.
“Why would you?” I offer in rebuttal.
She breaks eye contact and shrugs, picking at a thread on the comforter. “It seems like a business degree would make sense.”
“You already have your business set up and it’s successful, isn’t it?”
“I’m doing well. How’d you know? You look me up?” she asks playfully, but I ignore her and the twinge in my chest.
“Then why bother?”
She peeks up at me over her shoulder with a defensive look on her face. “Well, why do you bother?”
Leaning forward, I lower my voice to answer her. “I don’t. I’m not staying.”
“You’re going home?” she asks and the very idea of home doesn’t quite sit right with me, but neither does the expression on her face. The hurt one that she can’t hide although I’m not sure she would bother even if she was aware of how transparent her emotions are.
“I’m working and that might lead me back to where we grew up.”
As I lower myself back onto the bed slowly, I question being so honest with her. The coy and curious nature I’ve come to enjoy from her turns timid. Like she’s walking into dangerous territory.
“Should I ask?” Her voice is quiet and she doesn’t look me in the eye.
“That depends on what you want to know.” She hasn’t asked a single question since we’ve started hooking up. She’s smart enough to know. Maybe smart enough to know not to ask too.
Finally, her gorgeous green eyes look back at me and she presses, “Would you tell me the truth if I did? Tyler never did.”
“Tyler wasn’t ever involved in anything serious.” I ignore how everything in me turns cold at the mention of his name. Being with Addison … knowing he was her first. It hurts to swallow as she keeps talking. Especially after the memory of my father. I don’t like to remember.
She answers me, “Your version of serious and mine are different, I think.”
The time passes as I fail to come up with a response. She doesn’t need to know about any of this shit. It would be better if she didn’t.
Another second. Another thought.
“Is that why you left him?” I ask her and although it hurts deep down in my core, I need to know if her idea of what he did for work is what made her leave him. I don’t say his name though.
“I don’t want to talk about that night.” Her answer comes out sharper than I expect. With a bite and a threat not to question her. It only makes me that much more curious.
“The night you broke things off?” I ask her to clarify. That night isn’t the one that haunts me. That’s not the night that’s unspeakable to me.
Addison stands on shaky legs with her back to me. Finding her packed bag and unzipping it as she speaks.
“I just don’t like thinking about how the last couple of times I saw him I was turning him away,” she says with a tinge of emotion I don’t like to hear. The kind of emotion that’s indicative of love.
A love I know for certain he had for her.
“You weren’t the first seventeen-year-old girl to end a high school relationship,” I remind her and also me. It was puppy love. That’s all it ever was.
“Yeah well, I didn’t know what it would lead to,” she says and her voice trembles as she slips on a pair of underwear and sweatpants.
I’m not sure I want to know the answer, but I have to ask. “So if you could go back?”
Addison’s quiet at my question and I walk toward her although her back is still to me. “If you could go back, you’d still be with him?” Her hesitation makes my muscles tighten. My fist clenches as a tic in my jaw spasms.
I’ve been kidding myself to think otherwise. Of course she’d be with him and not me. My breathing comes in ragged as she answers.
“If he were here now--” she starts to say, but I cut her off.
“He’s not, and he never will be.” The anger simmers. Everything that’s been pushed down for so long rises up quickly. All the years of control and denial.
The hate that my brother was taken from me. And the pain of knowing it was my fault and that I’ve never told a soul. I could tell her now. But I never would. It’s too late to confess.
Addison turns to face me with wide eyes. “Don’t say that.”
Maybe it’s the denial, the guilt that plagues me. But I sneer at her, “You think it’s easy for me? You got over his death far easier than I did.”
I don’t see the slap coming until the sting greets my cheek. My hand instinctively moves to where she’s struck me. I flex my jaw and feel the burn radiate down the side of my face.
Her beautiful countenance is bright red with anger and her eyes are narrowed. I’ve never seen her this full of rage. Never.
Her hands tremble as she yells at me.
“You don’t know how many nights his death haunted me!”
I do.
Her voice wavers and I know she’s on the verge of tears. The kind that paralyze you because they’re so overwhelming. But instead of giving in to grief, she screams at me.
“You don’t know how I blamed myself to the point where I begged God to just kill me and let me take his place.” She takes each breath in heavily.
I do.
Adrenaline rushes through my blood. The hate, the shame, and the unrelenting guilt surge within me. And I can’t say anything back. I can’t have this conversation with her.
When I don’t say anything, when I feel myself shutting down, she snaps. “Fuck you,” she tries to yell at me but her voice cracks as she grabs her bag and storms out of the room.
She doesn’t have her shoes on and she’s not wearing a bra under my shirt.
“You’re not leaving?” It’s meant to be a statement but the question is there in the undertone. All because I said she got over his death easier than I did? It’s a fact. I fucking know it is.
“Yes, I am,” she snaps as she turns around just as I walk up behind her. I have to halt my pace and take half a step back as she cranes her neck to bite out, “How dare you tell me that it was easy for me.”
“You don’t know-” I try to tell her that she has no idea how well I relate to her pain, but she doesn’t let me finish.
“Leave me alone.”
She angrily brushes under her eyes as she quickly descends the stairs with me right behind her. The front door is right there and she makes a beeline for it.
She’s out of her fucking mind if she thinks I’m letting her leave here like this. “Addison. Wait a fucking minute.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” she yells back and tries to whip open the door. My palm hits it first, slamming it back shut.
“You’re not leaving like this,” I warn her. My muscles are coiled, but it’s the fear making me wound so tight. She’s leaving. And she’s not coming back.
I can feel it in every inch of me.
“Yes, I am,” she replies, though with shaken confidence.
“The fuck you are.” My words are pushed through clenched teeth.
“If you respect me in any sense of the word, you will let me leave. Right now.”
“Addison, don’t do that.”
“I mean it, Daniel. I need to be alone right now.”
“I want to be there for you.” I don’t know how true the words are until I’ve said them. And oh, how fucking ironic they are.
“Well,
you can’t.” She shuts me down.
Her green eyes stare up at me and all I can see is the same look she’d give Tyler when he was being clingy. The look that so obviously said she needed time and that she was overwhelmed. I get it now why he always hovered.
I’m afraid if I let her go now, she’s never coming back. I can’t lose her. Not again.
“I’m coming by tonight.” I give her the only compromise I’m capable of.
I lower my arm but she doesn’t respond. With a swift tug she pulls the door open and walks out, bare feet and all.
I stand in the doorway and watch her reach in her bag for flip-flops then put them on at the corner of the street.
She keeps looking over her shoulder, maybe to see if I’m coming for her.
And I am. She knows better than to think otherwise.
But I’ll let her get a head start.
Five years ago
* * *
He hovers. Constantly hovering.
We all know why. It’s so fucking obvious every time he brings her around.
She’s waiting to run.
She’s cute and sweet, but there’s something about her that makes it almost painfully apparent that a kid like Tyler could never hold on to her. It would take a man to keep that cute little ass.
Just thinking that as I stand in the kitchen, watching the two of them in the dining room makes me feel like a pervert. She’s only sixteen, although her curves make her look like more of a woman and less of a girl.
He gives her little touches as they sit next to each other watching something on his laptop. Her laugh makes him smile.
He’s foolish to think she’ll stay with him. Girls like that don’t stay with men like us. He can keep pretending if he wants to. He can keep bringing her home and cuddling up with her because he doesn’t know how easy it is for people to shove you away.
She’ll shove, she’ll push, she’ll leave. And I can’t blame her.
Her shoulders shake as she laughs and leans into him. His broad smile grows and like the kid he is, he wraps his arm around her shoulders.
