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

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Wolf (A Little Red Riding Hood Retelling) (Brother's best friend romance) Page 14

by J. A. Wynters


  “No?” He doesn’t hide his surprise.

  “I might kill him if I’m there.” I go for honesty. Hunter knows how much Alabama’s death affected me.

  “Maybe you should be here so that I don’t kill him,” he throws back at me.

  “Maybe if you weren’t getting your dick sucked and saw what was happening, you would have killed him already.”

  Hunter grunts over the phone, “How is she?”

  “Asleep, like I should be.” I growl back.

  “Good.”

  “You know I would have never let it—”

  “—I do. See you later.”

  “Yeah.”

  He hangs up and I feel a little lighter knowing we’re about to be a client short. It also means that my night has just cleared up cause I was scheduled for babysitting duty.

  I stand up and my body protests, my muscles ache and scream as I shuffle to my room. My bed looks inviting, but I know I’m done sleeping and I’ll just be lying on it, starting at the ceiling.

  I take a quick sneak peek into Red’s room. She’s passed out, her duvet covering all but her face that’s a little twisted as it pushes up her pillow.

  I get in the shower letting the hot water tumble against my skin and wash away the night.

  32

  Red

  My eyes feel glued together; prying them open I regret it instantly and slam them shut. My dry mouth is thick with sticky dribble, and I groan into my pillow before throwing the duvet back over my head.

  I roll onto my back and let my body sink into the mattress. The beginnings of a headache knock at my skull, and I know I need to get some water in me. I push the blanket away and find a glass of water and two headache tablets on my bedside table. My eyes dart to the door. It’s closed.

  I listen to the house and hear only silence.

  I down the water and swallow the pills then slither out of my bed like a broken marionette. Waves of nausea flit in and out, threatening but never amounting to anything. All I need is a shower and then food.

  I step into the shower and turn the water on, the water trickles down my back bringing with it flashes of the night before. Dancing with Caleb, meeting some celebrity. Wolf. Cradling him, touching him, calling him a marshmallow.

  I groan into my hands and shake my head. I called him soft and gooey, I told him he was delicious. My head falls back against the tiles. He is delicious, that much I remember.

  I switch the water off, dress and head for the kitchen. I freeze as I enter the lounge. Wolf is sprawled across the couch, his long legs stretched in front of him, head tucked on a palm as he scrolls on his phone.

  He lifts his eyes to me, “How’s your head?”

  “Could be worse,” I say with a croak, and a flicker of a smile crosses his beautiful face. “Thanks, for last night.”

  His eyes fall away, and he nods a little. He looks exhausted.

  “Have you slept?”

  “A little,” he sounds weary.

  “Breakfast?”

  “Are you cooking?”

  “Sure.” I shuffle to the kitchen, leaving him on the couch.

  My stomach rolls and nausea claws at my throat. I need something greasy to soak up the alcohol still sloshing around my veins. My body feels dull and abused. I find some eggs, bacon and bread and get frying. My stomach growls as the acidic hunger gnaws inside me. I douse it with another glass of water, which still doesn’t settle my endless thirst.

  Wolf steps into the kitchen, “Smells good, I’ll make coffee.”

  I throw him a sideway glance and put some bread into the toaster. I pretend not to watch as his large, broad body moves, agile and precise. He feels like a contradiction.

  The silence is broken by the pop of the toaster. My heart leaps at the sound and I chuck the toast on a plate, blow on my fingers, then add two more pieces.

  “About last night…”

  He looks up at me. “Don’t want to talk about it,” he says flatly.

  I bite my tongue for a second, “Well, I just wanted to and say—”

  “You already did,” he ends the conversation, and I watch as he adds a half a teaspoon of sugar and milk into my coffee without asking. Knowing exactly how I like it. I frown as I contemplate this. He places the mugs on the table as the second batch of toast pops up, and I grab the pieces piling them on a plate.

  I take the butter from the fridge and turn find Wolf standing next to me.

  “Would you like me to butter your toast?”

  He shoots me a sly smile and I regret my words instantly, “I bet you’d love to butter my toast wouldn’t you, Red?”

  “Wolf…”

  He takes a careful step towards me, his grin spreading as he speaks, “Maybe once you finish with the bread you can see what you can do about my buns.” I roll my eyes as his gaze falls on my lips. “What’s wrong Red? Too toasty in here for you?”

  “You’re an idiot,” I say and stab the butter knife into the air in the mock threat. Wolf catches my wrist and pins my body against the counter with his.

  His forehead drops to mine and his eyes are full of mischief. “Let me make it all butter for you Red.” his hot breath tickles my mouth as it splits into a ridiculous smile.

  “Wolf,” I groan, “stop it.”

  “Too cheesy for you?”

  I close my eyes and sigh. When I open them again, all the humour has drained from his face. Instead, his chocolate brown eyes bore into mine, staring holes into me. His lips dangerously close to mine. My breath hitches and my heart trips as time stands still, suspended like dew on a blade of grass. Tension ratchets up my spine until it has nowhere to go but up and out. I push up on my tiptoes and my lips crash into his, where they’ve always belonged.

  All my defences crumble before this desperate, hungry mystery that pulls us together. His lips are just as I remember them, soft and full, and his kisses are just as desperate, just as needy as they beg for mine.

  For me.

  For more.

  The knife clatters somewhere on the floor and a hand tangles in my hair. He draws me against his rippling muscles that flex and tense around me. Heat crawls inside me as he deepens the kiss. I claw at his back, at his neck, at his shoulders. My body recognises his, like an addict taking a hit after a long sobriety.

  When we hear it, Wolf untangles himself from me and rips away in a single swift movement, while I find air and suck it into my lungs. A second later, the door slams shut and Hunter’s key’s clatter into the key box by the front door.

  Wolf’s eyes dart to mine for a single moment, his face pinched with regret as he wipes a hand over his mouth erasing the moment.

  Hunter walks into the kitchen, “I’m in time for breakfast? Is there enough for one more?”

  “Of course,” I say on a shaky breath and turn away from him.

  “Red was just buttering up the toast…” Wolf adds, and a flicker of a smile touches my lips.

  “Great, thanks Red.” Hunter says and falls into a chair.

  Wolf doesn’t look at me once as he stabs his food with his fork and talks business with Hunter. I tune out, thinking about Wolf’s mouth on mine and a warm shiver wracks up my body. I try to douse it with memories, but it’s like I’ve swallowed an ember and it’s sparked something inside me that’s spreading and catching on everything it touches. It’s already out of control, and I don’t know if I want to put it out again.

  33

  Ten Years Ago

  Wolf 18, Red 15

  Wolf

  Hunter has been working at his new job for two weeks, three nights a week where I get Red all to myself. Where I don’t have to share her with anyone, when we can both be who we are. Where I can put my arm around her when we watch movies, and I can trace the long slender shape of her thigh as she sits and sketches and purrs. Where she can tell me her dreams. Where I can tell her lame jokes and listen to her laughter and then kiss her mouth till her lips are red and swollen and we’re breathless. When we have to stop eve
ry time it gets too far, and my body wants to take over.

  I never let her touch my cock. I’m too afraid, and it scares me that she isn’t. But I can be patient, for her. I can wait just one more week.

  For her I can wait a lifetime.

  I don’t know when she became mine. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment, all I know is that everything about her fascinates me, and all my thoughts are consumed by her I find myself eager and happy for no reason other than the fact I’d know I’d be seeing her, that she’d be there, that we can steal a piece of time to ourselves each night and no one could touch it. I craved that time with her, like a heroin addict. When I was with her, I felt peace—like all the restlessness of the day was set aside and her presence, her voice, her laughter soothed me from the inside out.

  We sat on the couch. Her long legs outstretched before her and her hand moving frantically over the pad.

  “What are you drawing?”

  “It’s not done yet.”

  I nod and hold back the desire to rip it out of her hand again, “Will you show me?”

  “When it’s done.” Her eyes glint and a smile ghosts her lips. “It’s a surprise.”

  “For me?”

  She nods and sucks her lower lip into her mouth, and my body explodes with envy wanting to be that lip. I let my gaze fall away in fear of doing something stupid.

  “It’s getting late.” I look at the clock.

  Not that it matters.

  She sets her pad down, and her gaze dips to my lips and she licks her own.

  “Take me to bed?” It’s shy and delicate and totally devastating.

  “I shouldn’t.”

  “Just this one time. You can tuck me in.” She hops off the couch and waits for me.

  I know I shouldn’t get off this couch, I know I should sit here and watch her go. Send her away and wait for Hunter to get home before I go back to mine and release all the pain in my groin. But I don’t, I get up and follow her.

  She takes me by the hand and leads me upstairs to her room. She’s a combination of nervous energy and confidence. She bites down her fear, but her eyes can’t lie. She pushes her door open and keeps the lights off as she leads me to her bed. We lie down facing one another, her eyes glisten in the darkness and silence that engulfs us. And then her hand is on my face, tracing my jaw with soft delicate fingers and taking away my breath—Which I find on her lips.

  I kiss her like she’s mine. My hands weave through her hair and explore every part of her I want to claim. My greedy hands touch and feel but don’t take.

  Not yet.

  I push her away, my body aching and needy, and my breath coming in in short sharp pants.

  “Not yet, sweet, beautiful Red. You know we can’t.”

  She lets out a frustrated huff, and I feel her head move against my palm in a nod.

  “Just one more week till your birthday, and then I can make you mine.”

  Her hands tighten around me.

  “What do you want for your birthday, Red?”

  “Just you,” she whispers against my neck, and I shiver.

  “But you can have anything,” I kiss her neck, wanting to sink my teeth into her delicate flesh, wanting to make her moan.

  “But I don’t need anything else.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” she whispers, and it sounds like a wish.

  “Then that’s what you’ll get.” I nuzzle her neck wanting time to move, to stop, wanting this moment to last an eternity but also end. End and move faster—till Saturday, when there will be no more waiting, no more holding back, no more stopping.

  “You promise?”

  There’s something so needy and desperate in her voice, it cracks at my resolve.

  “I promise.” I find her mouth and seal my promise with a kiss.

  My mouth can’t leave hers; I snatch endless kisses and touches, I want her so much I wrench myself away till it hurts.

  “I better go, Hunter will be home soon.”

  “Shaw?”

  She grips my hand as I sit up, and I find her silhouette on the bed.

  “Yeah?”

  “I think I love you.” She sounds relieved, like she’s been carrying that weight around for so long.

  “I think I love you too, Red.” And as I say it, my heart soars and I feel light, like maybe I was carrying that weight too and I never even realised.

  “Good night.”

  “Good night, Red.”

  I reach for the door handle and step out of her room, and what I see makes my heart stop.

  34

  Present Day

  Red

  We spend the next two weeks working out the planning and installation for Becca’s show. I’ve become Caleb’s favourite friend since I got him into that club, and he’s been paying me back by not only doing the bulk of the work, but by teaching me everything he knows—Willingly.

  We took a day trip to the estate house to meet with the owner. The place was enchanting and beautiful, and I knew exactly why Becca chose it as the venue.

  We drove into the estate over the grandiose driveway that seemed to stretch for miles, lined on each side by thick dark woods which opened up into a sweeping, wide circle drawn in front of the manor with an ornamental fountain in the centre.

  The ornate sandstone walls seemed to grow from the manicured lawn, reaching into the heavens. The greyish stone bare of any ivy growth but peppered with too many oversized windows, almost cathedral like.

  When we stepped inside, all the rooms were bathed in natural light that cascaded through the multitude of windows, and when the curtains were drawn and the chandeliers above lit, I could see the enchantment of this place and how Becca’s work would truly come to life here as the light bounced from the polished oak floors and danced on the antique furniture still scattered around. We spent that day taking measurement and inspecting walls, spaces, and going over endless procedures and protocols.

  By the time I got home each day, I was exhausted and elated and feeling like a contributing, functioning member of society. Wolf’s kiss all but a dimming memory. In fact, I haven’t seen either Hunter or Wolf since that breakfast.

  We’re back to being ships in the night.

  On the Thursday morning before the show, Becca calls me to her office.

  “Hey Red,” she doesn’t look up from the pile of papers on her desk, “are we all set for Saturday night?”

  “Yes.” I beam at her, but she doesn’t see me. I don’t mind, I’m proud. Tomorrow Caleb and I will spend the day at the manor putting the last of the installation together, and I couldn’t wait to see all my hard work take shape—at last—into something real and tangible. “It’s looking amazing.”

  She looks up then and gives me a wide genuine smile. “So, you’ll pick me up at five?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well you didn’t think you’re not coming, did you? There’s no better learning opportunity than being at the opening night, seeing how everything really works behind the scenes. Plus, schmoozing with all the money people and getting your name out there in the arts world won’t hurt either.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realise. I…”

  “You’ve made other plans?” she arches an eyebrow.

  Drinks with Ethan. I sigh, “No.”

  “Great, it’s settled.” Her smile broadens, “Wear something tasteful.”

  “Tasteful?”

  “Sexy, revealing, saucy. Get those people to notice you. After they notice you, they’ll notice your art.”

  “Oh.” I grimace and shudder internally at her words and wonder what I have in my closet that could pass for ‘saucy.’

  “It’s how the world works, darling.”

  I nod, not hiding my unease. “Can I bring a plus one?”

  “Of course.”

  I thank her, glad I don’t have to cancel on Ethan, and as I turn to leave she calls me back, “Red?”

  “Yes?”

  “What’s this?”
/>
  She hands me a paper with one of my doodles, a half face of a boy. I startle as a shiver slithers up my spine. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

  “He’s a very sad nothing.”

  I shrug. I’m not getting into this now.

  “Well, if you ever want to make that nothing into something, I suggest you create a professional portfolio of your work and have it on my desk, by…” she waves her hand in the air like she can magically pull out a number from it, “the end of the month?” She grabs her calendar and squints as she reads the numbers, “That gives you three weeks. Ask Caleb to help.”

  I stand frozen to the floor, unable to move. Trying to comprehend what she’s just said. I stare at her till she looks away and back down to her papers.

  “You can go now, I’ll see you Saturday.”

  I mumble something that could have been thank you and open the door. I walk out and into what feels like a brick wall.

  When I look up, my eyes narrow at Wolf. “What are you doing here?” My stomach drags in a long roll as my gaze finds his lips, then his eyes.

  “I have a meeting with your boss.”

  “What? Why?” My voice catches in my throat.

  “Come in Mr. Bennett.” Becca calls from her office and he sidesteps me, closing the door behind him.

  I hurry over to Caleb. “What the hell is he doing here?” I try to cover the quiver in my voice, but seeing Wolf again makes my body remember. I need to remind myself I’m with Ethan.

  “Who? Mr. Hot Stuff?” he says dreamily, and I punch him on the shoulder. “Ouch.” He gives me a dramatic look and rubs his arm, “Becca needed security for the next two nights —”

  “So, you gave her Wolf’s number?”

  “I thought you’d be happy, he works with your brother. You said they lost a client the other day.”

  I sigh and mumble an unbelievable thanks.

  “Anyway, we’re going to be stuck there for hours, I need some eye candy to help pass the time.” His eyebrows bounce up and down as he gives me a dirty smile.

 

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