Wolf (A Little Red Riding Hood Retelling) (Brother's best friend romance)

by J. A. Wynters

  I’m by her side in two strides, and she doesn’t pull away as I wing my arms around her and draw her into me. She’s been avoiding me since I’ve discovered her secret. One she’s not voiced, and I haven’t been brave enough to ask about.

  “What’s happened?”

  She sniffles and draws in a few sharp breaths steadying her voice, “Grandma Julie.”

  “Is she?”

  “No,” she wipes a hand over her tear streaked face, “they just took her away to the nursing home.”

  My hand tightens around her. Grandma Julie’s been sick for so long, we all knew it was coming. She needed real help. I never understood why Hunter insisted she stay as long as she has.

  Red pushes away from me, but I keep my hands on her.

  “They said less than a year.” She falls into a muted cry and I let her shiver against me.

  “I can talk to my parents, maybe they can help.”

  She shakes her head, her hair tickles my chin, “Yeah? Where are they, Shaw?”

  Her words stab with their truth, and I discard the idea.

  “What if they take us away? I’m still underaged.” her voice quivers with uncertainty.

  “I won’t let that happen.”

  She scoffs.

  “Hunter will be an adult next month and your sixteenth birthday is not long after.”

  “I’m not sure if we can hang on that long.”

  “Hey,” my knuckle finds her chin and I lift it, so that her burning eyes can look into mine, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “You can’t make a promise like that.”

  “I just did.” I whisper against her hair and pull her to my chest. Protecting Red has suddenly become the single most important thing in my world.

  The door bangs open and Hunter appears in the doorway.

  His brow furrows as it lands on us. “What’s going on?”

  “Red is upset, about your grandmother being taken away today.”

  He nods once and his jaw tightens, “I have some good news.”

  Her head jerks up and her eyes grow wide with desperate hope, my heart forgets to beat.

  “I got another job.”

  “Oh, that’s great Hunter,” she leaps from my arms and into his, leaving a hollow cold cavity where she was a second ago.

  “It is, and good money too.” He looks down at her, “But it’s after hours, which means you might be alone a few nights a week.”

  “I can stay with her,” I pipe up before I can think about what I’m saying.

  Hunter raises an eyebrow, and Red jabs me with a long look.

  “I don’t need a babysitter.” She pushes away from Hunter.

  “That’s not a bad idea,” he says, ignoring her.

  “You know I’d be here anyway.” we talk over her like she’s not even there.

  “I said I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Well I say different, at least until you’re sixteen.”

  “That’s only three months away Hunter, it will make no difference.”

  “It’s settled then.”

  “What?” She huffs and her eyes narrow, bounding from his face to mine, “I’m not a little kid anymore.”

  “No, but you are my little sister and I’ll feel better if I know there’s someone here with you,” he says it with so much sincerity, the fight falls from her like an avalanche.

  “Fine, but I don’t have to listen to anything he says.”

  Hunter laughs, “Fine.”

  “We’ll just see about that,” I play along, folding my arms across my chest, my mind flooded with a thousand images of Red doing exactly what I tell her to do. My cock jolts in my pants, and I swivel away walking towards the kitchen.

  When Hunter follows, I grab two beers and put one in front of him.

  “Hey, thanks man,” he says and grabs the can, “I’ll feel better knowing someone I can trust is looking after her.”

  “Don’t mention it.” I tip my beer towards his and take a long sip hoping the cold contents will cool my suddenly boiling insides.

  “I mean it.”

  “Yeah I know.” I shrug. “Have you told her yet?” He shakes his head slowly and I nod. I don’t agree with his plan to keep delaying it, but I can’t interfere. “When are you planning on doing that?”

  “Soon,” is all he says and drags another long sip of his beer.

  24

  Present Day

  Red

  Caleb grabs my wrist as I make to stand up and bolts out of the chair himself, a smile slicing his face as he takes in the tall, blond man that’s just walked in. He strolls in like he doesn’t have a care in the world and takes time to examine the first painting hanging on the wall. A striking art nouveau piece inspired by the great impressionists of our time, colourful with bold, confident strokes. Becca tells the story of the sea and his mistress; the white cliffs, as they chase each other through time, cursed to forever remain apart. The piece stirs something inside me, and I let my eyes fall away.

  Caleb’s shoes echo on the tiled floor as he goes to help the man who’s moved on to the next piece. He introduces himself and his smile loses some of its shine when the man shakes his hand. He must be straight. Caleb’s shoulders drop a little—yup, definitely straight. I cover my smirk as they walk over to the desk and Caleb rounds it, moving towards his seat.

  “This is Red, she can answer any of your other questions.” He’s stiff as he sits down and turns to his computer.

  “Hi.” I stand up and the man flashes me a sweet smile.

  “Ethan,” he gives me his hand and we shake, perhaps a little too long before I snatch my hand away.

  “How can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for a piece for my new office.”

  I give him a side glance, “You got a promotion?”

  He chuckles, “No.” He doesn’t elaborate, and I feel ridiculous for asking.

  “Did you have any particular piece in mind?”

  He looks around the gallery, “Not really, thought maybe you could take me through some of the pieces.”

  “Of course.”

  We spend the next hour talking brush strokes and composition. I’m surprised by his knowledge of painting and the way he chooses to interpret the images that scream at us from the canvases.

  “Are you an artist yourself?” I ask as we stand in front of the final canvass.

  “I used to dabble,” he sighs, like he’s letting go of a dream, “but I was always better at arguing than creating, so I studied law instead.”

  I nod wondering what it’s like to finally let the flame burn out on your dreams. I shift my focus back on the canvass. “How about this one?”

  “It’s nice,” he says.

  “Nice?” I bite my tongue too late, but his face breaks into a smile.

  “What’s wrong with nice?”

  I shake my head, keeping my mouth shut.

  “What’s wrong with nice?” He prods again.

  “It’s just such a lazy word, too simple. It doesn’t describe anything. It has no real substance.” I cringe internally at my honesty, wondering how hard Caleb will be on me once I tell him I lost him a client.

  “A lazy word?” he smirks, “it’s a painting of a vase.”

  “It’s a painting about standing out. Being unique.”

  He studies the painting and his brow furrows, “Explain.”

  I look at the painting, stepping inside of it as I start speaking, “At first glance, it looks like an ordinary scene, a dark table with a vase of flowers. But when you look at it, you’ll notice that your eyes keep getting drawn to the singular red rose in the vase. The only real burst of colour in an otherwise dull background.”

  He nods.

  “The rose draws your eye because it’s unique, she stands out and shines brighter than the rest of the flowers because she has no equal. She is totally incomparable to anything else in the painting.”

  When I finish talking, Ethan is looking at me instea
d of the canvass, and I squirm a little under his scrutinising gaze.

  He doesn’t say anything for a beat, then his eyes finally swing back to the artwork. “Unique,” he says it so softly, I’m not sure if that’s what he actually said.

  I wait for another few seconds before I open my mouth again, “So, what do you think? See anything you like?”

  A small smile crosses his face as he turns back to me, “I think so.”

  “Great,” I say possibly a little too enthusiastically, “which one?”

  He shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants and looks at me, “This one.”

  “The nice one?” I let too much sarcasm drip out and kick myself instantly.

  He chuckles and his gaze bores into mine, “I’ve since learned to look at it again and found that it is rather unique.”

  I feel heat rise to my face and ears, though I’m not sure why. “Fantastic. Should we go back to the front desk and start the paperwork?”

  “Sure.” He gestures for me to lead, and I step ahead of him feeling sheepish.

  At the desk I turn to Caleb, “Caleb can help you with the paperwo—”

  “No,” Ethan cuts through my words. He’s not aggressive but calm as his eyes lock with mine, “I’ll deal only with you or not at all.”

  Caleb’s eyes dart from his face to mine and shrugs, “Just fill everything in and let me have a look before final delivery.” He turns back to his computer as Ethan winks at me.

  We spend the time going over the paperwork, payment, and delivery options. He’s nonchalant and seems to agree with everything I say. I wonder if all clients are as easy to deal with as he is.

  “Before I sign this, I want to add a condition.”

  I feel myself about to get lawyered and regret not forcing the issue of Caleb taking charge. “What is it?”

  “I want you to be there when it gets delivered, to make sure it’s installed properly.”

  “That’s not really something I do.”

  “Well, do it anyway.”

  “It’s not up to me.”

  “Well, who is it up to?”

  “Becca.”

  “What’s her number?”

  I look at him like he’s one sandwich short of a picnic, “I can’t give you her number.”

  He puts his phone away and looks at me, “Fair enough. Go call her.”

  “Now?”

  “Do you want me to sign?”

  I stare at him for three seconds before standing up, “No.”

  His confidence shatters and his brow furrows like I have completely taken him aback. “No?”

  I inhale deeply, calming my pounding heart. I’m about to let a £3000 deal walk out the door. “No,” I repeat and cross my hands over my chest, “If you want the artwork, you should buy it because you love it. But you can’t blackmail me into jeopardising my job because you’re an arrogant ass who thinks he can walk in here and intimidate me.”

  “My intention wasn’t to intimidate you, I just enjoyed spending the last hour with you.”

  Heat slithers up my neck.

  “You were so passionate about the piece, I wanted to make sure it was installed correctly.”

  “Oh.”

  His eyes gleam with amusement and irritation prickles my skin. He calmly moves to the stack of papers on the table, takes the pen and signs the paperwork without further argument.

  He drops the pen on the table and pulls out a card, “If you won’t come to install my artwork, would you at least consider having a coffee with me?”

  “Coffee?”

  “Yeah coffee, it’s a dark drink you have during the day between meals.”

  “I know what coffee is,” I say stupidly, and he sniggers, battling full-on laughter.

  “Think about it, Red.” He places his cards on top of the contract, slides it across the desk towards me, and steps out of the office. His voice echoes through the gallery as he farewells Caleb, and then there’s silence.

  Caleb bursts through the door, his face all smiles. “You sold ‘The Rose?’”

  “I think so.” I reach for the card and pocket it.

  Caleb runs to me, shrieking and next thing I know, we’re jumping up and down giggling.

  25

  Red

  In the autumn air, the breeze bites at my cheeks while the sun kisses it. It’s a lovely feeling, a contradiction, like everything else that has been going on in the last few months.

  Hunter walks towards me, a large grin across his face, “Hey.” He takes me into his arms.

  “Hi,” I smile back.

  “Sorry we’re late. I got… delayed.”

  “I don’t want to know.”

  He shrugs and another of his too telling smirks flashes across his face.

  “We’re?” His words suddenly register.

  “Oh yeah. Wolf is coming too, with someone.”

  “Someone?”

  Hunter grins and my stomach does a long, aching roll that slings a knot into my throat. I hear the shrieking giggle and his low, gruff laughter, and I hold my breath behind pursed lips.

  Wolf walks towards us with a girl draped around him. She’s clingy like Glad Wrap and just as transparent. He’s still dressed in last night’s uniform, his white shirt wrinkled, and the top two buttons missing. His hair is ruffled and unkempt, and I hate how his hand is hooked around her slim shoulder. He whispers something in her ear, and she bursts into another shriek of over the top laughter.

  They make their way to our table and he stalls for a second as he sees me.

  His date slips into the bench across from mine and smiles at me, then claws at Wolf who’s still staring at me. He falls stiffly into the bench, his gaze still locked with mine, “What are you doing here?” He barks out, his face pinching with irritation.

  “Hunter invited me to breakfast.”

  “Oh, we were carpooling.”

  I wave my hand, “Whatever, I don’t want to know.”

  I grab my menu and stare at the words, instead of at the over made up doll sitting across from me, gripping Wolf’s arm like it keeps her from drowning in her own stupidity.

  I grind my teeth and try to soothe the angry green flames that lick at my skin. Jealousy is not a good colour for me. But then again, why should I be jealous? There's nothing romantic between us. In fact, there’s nothing at all between us, and there never will be.

  I order a full breakfast, so do Hunter and Wolf. She orders a fruit salad, and I’m glad my sunglasses are dark enough to hide my eye roll.

  “How was last night?” I turn to Hunter.

  “Fun.” He winks at Wolf, who looks suddenly very uncomfortable. His relaxed demeanour when he walked in, all but vanished.

  “Yeah it was a great night,” blondie’s syrupy voice drips, and her hands slide under the table onto Wolf’s thigh. His jaw tightens.

  The waitress brings a round of coffees and I sip on mine. I can’t help but examine this specimen hanging off Wolf. Maybe if I had endless legs and bottle blonde hair, he’d let me touch him the way her hands roam around him.

  I try and shake the thought away, but jealousy has taken hold of me. I can’t shake it, like an insipid river, it’s filtered inside me and the water drips into the hollow cavity of my chest, creating sharp angry stalactites that slice me each time I breathe.

  I guess I’d never been good enough for him. Not my taste in my music or the way I dance; like I actually feel the music, rather than to a hungry audience putting myself on display. And when he tells jokes I laugh—real and loud—till my belly hurts and not just turn on fake laughter to stroke his ego. The stalactites slice my insides, I never could compete with girls who starve themselves so they could look like they just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Maybe I’d always wished he would see me, the real me, and that somehow, I could touch him in all the places hands can never reach. I guess I was wrong

  “I’m Tracey.” She looks at me as she leans into Wolf. He hasn’t touched her since he came in.
/>   “Red.” I say over the lip of my coffee cup.

  “That’s such a unique name, I wish my mum gave me such a fantastic name. I’ve thought of changing mine. Tracey is just so bland.”

  I nod, unsure what she wants me to say.

  “What do you do Red?” Her hand moves under the table and Wolf jerks up. I arch an eyebrow at her, and she wiggles her eyebrows. My hands tighten around my cup.

  “I work in an art gallery.”

  “Oh, you’re an arty-farty type? That explains a lot.”

  “Oh?” I put my cup down and tilt my head a little.

  “Explains what exactly?” Hunter bites out beside me and warmth floods my insides. He’s always so protective of me.

  Tracey shifts in her seat and her eyes dart from my face to Hunter, “Oh, no, it’s just how she looks… and… erm…”

  Hunter leans forward steepling his fingers in front of his face and glaring at her, while I sit in silence waiting for her to keep digging her own grave.

  “You must be super smart.” She tries to correct, and I wonder what about my wild hair, unmatched clothes and boots gave her that idea.

  “And you must not be.” The words slip out before I could bite them down. A ghost of a smile touches Wolf’s lips and vanishes while Hunter bursts into laughter beside me.

  “Excuse me? Did you just call me stupid?” Tracey looks indignant as she leans forwards.

  “Me? I’d never say anything like that.” I deadpan.

  Her face colours a shiny pink and she looks at Wolf, “Are you just going to let her talk to me this way?”

  “Which way is that?” His face is taut, but I know that expression, he’s holding back laughter.

  “She just insulted me.”

  “You were the one that started talking to her.”

  “You’re defending her?”

  “No,” he shrugs, “just pointing out the sequence of events.”

  She huffs and stands up, “Come on, we’re leaving.”

  He looks at her and remains seated, then pulls out a wedge of notes from his pocket and fishes out a £20. He holds it out to her, her pink face turns a dark red.