by T. N. King
Only he was shirtless and sweaty, and they’d been teasing one another all day. Only he was leaning into her when he got the glass of water and her overly-hormonal self had been able to smell his sweat. Which should have been gross, only it wasn’t. She didn’t even remember what she’d said now, or why he’d pinched her, she just remembered making some smart ass remark and his hand darting, finding that exposed skin on the inside of her thigh where her shorts weren’t covering and twisting the skin between his fingers. She had made noise then- though she thought she had managed to successfully cover it as one of pain, making some other remark only shortly after about his dirty shirt.
She hadn’t been expecting him to throw it at her face and tell her to put it in his room, she hadn’t been expecting to sniff it subvertly like some sex maniac either. But it had happened… and when she’d gone to his room, in full retreat mode, to put it in his dirty hamper she certainly hadn’t been planning on taking her own shirt off. It was just… idle curiosity, that lawn mower sounding again from downstairs and her stripping out of her shirt and bra… and then shorts and panties because there was no one to see her do it. There was no one to see her take those clothes off and cover herself, however indecently, with his- the sweat soaked fabric sticking to her clean skin in a way that should have been gross. Should have been revolting to her instead of the other, her abdomen tightening and her nervous, paranoid mind forcing her to go to that door and lock it.
Like she’d planned it all, only she hadn’t. Just like she hadn’t planned on climbing into his bed, the duvet and sheets smelling so strongly of him still that when she did it was all that she could smell. She had been deranged. Or overly virginal. Some kind of hormonally mixed up, the way that her hand had drifted down the fabric of that shirt, brushing over her erect nipples and down her abdomen until the hem of that shirt gave way to skin. Overly enthused, her fingers pushing between her thighs to her already slick flesh and sliding along the line she found there, alternating between too soft and too hard. It wasn’t like she knew what she was doing really, it wasn’t like she was totally comfortable doing it where she’d sequestered herself… only…
She had smelled Mason, all around her, wearing his sweaty shirt, and something about it had set her off, her fingers rubbing until they found the right circular pattern, choppy breath and what she was hoping were quiet moans quickly filling the silence of the room with the motor of the lawn mower for background noise. She didn’t know when she’d started slipping that other hand down, or when she’d managed to work two fingers into herself beneath the ones rolling her clit, she only knew that she was arching off of the bed and working all the faster for it. Waiting for that moment when the lawn mower stopped, waiting for him to come and find his door locked and… Her whole chest had seemed to seize up, the idea of him walking in, seeing her, the fantasy that maybe he wouldn’t walk right back out… that maybe he’d climb up on the bed between her thighs and replace her hands with his.
His name had fallen from her lips like a prayer, thighs shaking in a manner she didn’t even know that they could do, her fingers losing their pacing and her head being thrown back with the force of the moan that was lifted out of her throat… and right on que, the lawn mower stopped. She’d barely had time to ride out that orgasm before she’d slipped, whole body rolling off of one side of the bed and a squeak replacing what moans she had been making earlier. What had sounded good in theory wasn’t going to be how it worked in practice, he’d be disgusted, or she’d be disgusted. He was her brother.
Shame overrode everything else, her arms flailing to get that shirt off of her body, hands gathering what clothing she’d thrown off before and the one tossing his shirt into his laundry basket like she had been sent to do. She didn’t even take the time to put her own clothing back on- body streaking out of his room and across the hall to the bathroom as quickly as her legs could carry her, that door slamming shut behind her and her own, wide eyes meeting their reflection in the mirror. She’d shut it down then, refused to look at him like that ever again, hadn’t so much as allowed herself the luxury of masturbating in her own house because of the fear that it would happen again… and then last night… she’d crossed that line even further than she had two years before.
“Nicole-” she could hear her mother’s voice, but her hand lifted anyways, chopping the air as if she could shoo her away and whatever nonsense she was about to start with again, she’d only come five times now to try and tell her to come wait in the living room or kitchen with the rest of them. She wasn’t interested in waiting in any of those places though, just like she wasn’t interested in explaining herself to those three that she really did owe explanation to. “Nicole Lisette Carter don’t you hush me like that again, now listen, Mason called- “ and just that easily her mother had her full attention, body turning away from that window which she had been going to look out of once more, her eyebrows lifting in question.
“He’s not coming back tonight for game night, he called to let us know that he had a business meeting in the morning and was going home to be sure and rest up for it, but he did say that he wished you and Aaron the best and had already ordered you an engagement present!” Which seemed to fix things just fine for Marie, only none of that sounded like Mason to Nicole, and none of it sounded at all genuine, otherwise he would have been telling her himself. She wasn’t under any illusion that he was going to up and suddenly just like Aaron, she knew that it was going to take time, and work from both her and Aaron both… just like making Aaron like Mason would. What her mother was suggesting was too easy, too fake.
“Oh,” was all that she managed though, her hands falling away from the blinds completely and her body stepping back and turning to find that her mother had preceded the other two into that entryway as well, Aaron slipping around the side of her father o come up to her side.
“I’m sure you’ll catch him before you two leave tomorrow,” her father and his eternal optimism, something that she was more than grateful for in that moment, even if it only lasted just that, a moment. “Paul honey, remember, he has a business meeting, he probably won’t make it back in time, which is why he called…” and her mother, crashing in with the reality that damn near stopped her breath entirely, something akin to grief building just beneath her ribcage. “Well shit, then you’ll see him next time kid,” her dad said instead, kissing the top of her head even as he shifted around for his keys. “Don’t sweat it, enjoy the rest of your weekend. Marie, honey, we need to go if we’re going to make it in time to pick up the order…” Pulling at her mom’s hand until she too was at the door.
“Baby, you know how Mason deals with change, he’s actually taking this really well, especially…” She cut off, eyes cutting to Aaron and her face shifting only so much to indicate that she hadn’t meant to make things awkward, to apologize to both she and Aaron for her misstep, “with how things have gone. All of those mistakes and misunderstandings, we’ll handle it though, we always do.” Promised even with her father pulling on her still, their bodies disappearing beyond that front door with a laugh that had nothing to do with the conversation she’d left them with.
Nicole couldn’t speak for several moments following, looking at the now closed front door and trying to process… her parents were both right… her mother was right, but she didn’t believe he was handling it as well as he would have the rest of them believe. She didn’t believe he was at all congratulatory about it, but she also wasn’t sure how much of that was wishful thinking on her part- or how much of it was influenced by whatever strange affliction had overcome her concerning him. She couldn’t be sure of much of anything these days, her body leaning into Aaron as he slung an arm around her shoulders, sigh filtering out of her lips and head dropping onto one shoulder alone.
“Good, I was hoping not to have to put up with more of him,” almost immediately freezing the rest of her body from relaxing further into him with his voice. She had hoped after last night, and after this morning
and his announcement he would be more cordial, more open to being cordial at least. “All of his moping and shit, we can be gone before he gets out of that fucking meeting and not have to deal with any of his morose bullshit.” A hope that had apparently been just that… a hope, and one to be near immediately squashed.
Her movement was slight, rearranging under his arm so that she could look up at him, looking over the lines of his face and reminding herself that his temper wasn’t his fault. That while she wanted him to think that there had been nothing going on between she and Mason, she did owe him for her behavior last night. “Aaron… he’s my brother,” she tried instead, just the edge of her fingertips pushing along the line of his forearm wrapped about her shoulders like it was. “I love you, only you,” reminding him gently, everything about the tone of her voice almost a plea. A request for him to see reason, to look at it from her point of view and look at it fairly outside the scope of jealousy that he’d been operating under since the night before. “We’re going to be getting married… I want the two of you to get along.” She needed the two of them to get along, but using language like that was very likely to start a whole different sort of fight. “You understand that right?” She needed him to, she needed him to want to work towards it, to be willing to meet her in the middle there, because otherwise, she would be fighting the both of them and it would never amount to anything at all…
She’d live the rest of her life torn between the two of them until eventually Mason faded out of her life completely. Her throat constricted, blinking to keep the tears at bay, she didn’t want to upset Aaron any more than he already was, especially seeing how hard he had been working to turn it around into a good mood today with their news. ‘Just say yes.’ She blinked too rapidly, the corner of her lip being pulled into her mouth and her eyes watching him survey her carefully, like he was weighing her words.
“I’ll try,” he acceded finally, one hand brushing the hair back from her face carelessly. “But he’s the one who needs to adjust his damned attitude, I’ve only ever been fucking polite to him.” Her smile was genuine that time, lifting up onto her toes to press her lips into the side of his face. That’s all she needed was for him to try, she could make the rest of it happen, she knew she could. Mason was a different subject… but apparently not one that she had to be focusing on right now, or even later today being that he wouldn’t be coming back home… her heart lurched again and she dropped down from her toes, side-stepping out of Aaron’s grip with a reassuring smile and turning towards the kitchen.
“He’ll come around, you heard mom, he’s just weird about change.” She wished she believed it half as much as she sounded like she did, and she wished Aaron did too- that disbelieving grunt behind her completely ignored. She did love Aaron, just like she loved Mason.
Or no. Shit. She loved them differently, it was just equal? She was turning herself around in her own head, fingers fumbling with the spoon that she had gone to pick up off of the counter and nearly dropping it entirely into the cake batter she was meant to be mixing. Mason would come around, Aaron would learn to like him, eventually they would get along, and then everything would be fine. Her parents already adored Aaron, she and Aaron were working out their issues, and he was working on his temper…again, she couldn’t help thinking that if Mason would just get to know him, talk to him. Hell, talk to her about him- then maybe he would understand better, be more aware of how she’d gotten that bruise that had sent him in a tailspin in the first place… and be able to help Aaron so that it didn’t happen again. It was just his upbringing and the things that he had witnessed in his past that caused those kinds of outbursts, something Mason was more than familiar with himself…
Eventually they would get to the point where they could all be at family game night together… although the image of Aaron and Mason sitting side by side on the couch didn’t sit right with her. Where was she supposed to sit when that happened? Would Aaron ever be okay with her choosing to sit on Mason’s other side rather than his? Why would she rather sit next to Mason than Aaron anyways? Oh she was getting all kinds of turned around in her own head again, her arm picking up that pace of whipping the cake batter about in the bowl, furrow between her brows growing deeper.
Maybe it was for the best that Mason not come before they left after all. She needed to sort through whatever those feelings were and banish them back into the nothingness where they belonged. She needed time to readjust, to remind herself that what she had thought she was feeling was just subliminal messaging of some sort trying to tell her something else, and that she had clearly imagined what she had thought was happening. She needed time to make sense of it all and she didn’t think that she would be able to do that if Mason were glowering at her in person, so it was for the best…
She just wished that the best didn’t hurt so damned bad.
Chapter Eleven
Mason had spent a lot of time ‘meditating’ in the past three weeks, and a lot of time sequestered inside of Dr. Friedrich’s office trying to sort out the chaos inside of his head. A good portion of time in that office had been spent building Dr. Friedrich another desk as well, to replace the one he had destroyed after Aaron and Nicole broke the news of their engagement over breakfast that morning. For the first time in a long time he had nearly skipped a therapy appointment, sitting in his dark apartment staring at one of the many blank walls and just… breathing. It was only because Dr. Friedrich had shown up with him doing just that that he didn’t spend another week or so continuing the cycle.
Somewhere between asking Mason what he was doing and trying to talk to him the man had managed to convince him to get up and dressed to go out for coffee, which they did. Only coffee, in this instance, meant the two of them sitting at a diner until nearly three in the morning discussing things, with Mason opening up even further about events with Nicole that up until that point he had always kept to himself.
He understood, now, that if he couldn’t alter the way he viewed Nicole and shift his perspective on her to something healthier than it’d been for the past twelve years then he was going to lose out on her in his life entirely. Part of it had to do with Aaron, and that ring that she wasn’t wearing on her finger even though they were using the word engaged. Part of it had to do with himself. He’d been so close to crossing that line, so close to closing that distance between the two of them… and Aaron had walked in, spinning his whole world out like he had, secluding Nicole upstairs with him. Then, she was to be his wife… so that was only to be expected.
Wife.
The word still felt foreign in his head, like some curse that he’d only just learned the meaning of. He had been careful, making his twice weekly sessions on time and cutting all contact with Nicole off entirely in the meantime. She was his adopted sister, and for the first time in his life since meeting her, he was trying to view her as such. It started small, discussing with Dr. Friedrich how to do so, looking back on memories that he did have of her and trying to alter them so that he was only viewing her, as he ought to have been at the time anyways…
It had been three weeks since he’d so much as answered one of her texts but, like Dr. Friedrich said, he wouldn’t be able to completely alter that relationship unless he had practice doing so in the present as well. So he was calling her, like he’d promised, listening to that line ring while he walked into his apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him idly. He just needed to keep the conversation light and impersonal. Talk about her life, about Aaron.. Because in order for things to shift like they needed to he was going to have to hear about them, he was going to have to hear about Aaron and in the context of him being her fiancé.
“Hello?” Her voice was breathless, picking up the phone only just before that last ring that came before voicemail. He had half been expecting her not to answer at all, pausing for too long of a moment to hear her rummaging about in the background, objects of some sort or another making a clanging sound. “Hello? Mason? You there?” And j
ust that fast she sounded concerned, her words coming together quicker and without pause between the questions the longer that he was silent.
“Hey Nic, sorry, I was just locking my door.” Even if he had finished that before it was she’d picked up the phone, she didn’t know that. “I just got in from work,” he offered by way of explanation, trying to dismiss his relief at hearing her voice for the first time in so many weeks. Impersonal. Brief. Familial. Those were the only three checkpoints that he needed to meet for this conversation, and he needed to work to keep it that way.
“Oh go figure! I’m just getting ready to leave for work,” the relief was palpable over the line, her laugh coming in all the louder for it, and the sound of something else dropping again in the background. Her schedule, obviously, had changed. He had thought that she worked in the library in the mornings, not in the evenings, but then it had been three weeks, so it wasn’t like he could task her for his lack of knowledge on that change.
“Does that make it easier on your classes or something?” His keys dropped unceremoniously to the countertop, body contorting to get around the dining room table he still had yet to assemble and move off towards his own room, hands already working at the buttons of his shirt to get it off. He wanted to be out of that uniform as quickly as possible, the smell of whatever meal that had been his coworkers had made to celebrate Dave’s fiftieth still clinging to every fiber in the fabric.