Unsurprisingly Complicated

by Claudia Burgoa

  JC lifts his head glaring at me with those blue eyes. “Off limits, dude,” he barks. “It’s your mission to call it off right now. There won’t be a fifth date for the two of you.”

  “No fifth date,” MJ repeats. “Nope, she’s the sister. You get it, right? If you fuck her, well, things will change between us.”

  I cross my arms, eyes glaring from one brother to the other. “What the hell?”

  The fake anger I get, but them knowing about our fifth date agreement, that’s crazy.

  “Fun fact about AJ Colthurst-Decker.” JC dips his head back inside the piano. “She hates to hear about our sex life but loves to share about her dating life—which is the same shit. MJ, please replay the ‘I didn’t have sex’ scene.”

  “Only that part of the conversation?” MJ asks then winks at me. “FaceTime, got to love technology.”

  “Yeah, I don’t see the point in rehashing the rest—including the yummy bread that forever will remind her of Mase.” JC straightens up and leans against the piano. “We can add some of that bone-melting kiss inside the car as we pound him for kissing the sister, or the goodnight kiss that weakened her knees.”

  Both stare at each other and begin to laugh like a couple of idiots. Then MJ sets his guitar down and places his hands on his hips.

  “Oh. My. God. Jacob and Matthew, you did not just imply that I fucked him on the first date.” MJ rolls his eyes tossing his head back. “I’m back to old boring AJ—for now.” He giggles, batting his eyelashes. “I am a changed woman. This time I’m waiting at least until the fifth date. There won’t be any fucking or tricks until then—if you know what I mean. I ordered myself to hold the plans, including surfing the web page of Fleur of England until the fourth date.”

  Tricks, she knows tricks? This is information I don’t need to know. Wait, what the fuck is that Fleur thing?

  “You forgot the best part, MJ.”

  “Right.” MJ clears his throat, bats his eyelashes again and continues speaking in a shrilly voice that doesn’t imitate Ainse’s at all. “Plus it’s Mase, he wouldn’t pressure me, right?”

  “He’s so hot!” Both giggle after screaming like tweeny fangirls in the middle of a concert.

  JC claps and MJ bends a few times waving at his audience.

  “At least she doesn’t plan to make you wait like she did Porter,” JC comments, and I see red.

  “Dude, he waited years,” MJ adds drawing air quotes. “Fucker, I knew those two were a bad idea.”

  Of course, Porter didn’t wait. He had so many others to fuck as he waited.

  “This is how we’re going to play it.” MJ sobers up and gives me an icy glare as he crosses his arms. “You’re going to call my sister and call it quits before things turn out ugly.”

  “Because they will,” JC takes over. “We like you, and you bring joy into our lives. See, the difference between you and Kendrick is that Kendrick is like a cousin we love but barely see. You are a friend, and once you mess up with her, things won’t ever be the same.”

  This is strange, and I’m still waiting for more.

  “When you fuck up and break up with her,” MJ takes over, “she’s going to become a bitch. We hate hurt-bitch. She’s annoying as hell. Then you’ll be crying like a little girl.”

  JC nods and crosses his arms. “Yep, you’ll be the one crying. Might as well run away now.” He scissors his fingers and moves them toward the door then waves.

  “Oh, and if you hurt her, I’ll tie you to my drum set and beat the hell out of you with my sticks,” MJ concludes.

  “We should’ve done this with Porter,” JC murmurs, and MJ agrees. “He’d have flown the coop and never looked back. Damn, we’re a couple of idiots.”

  They’re a couple of well-intentioned idiots. Their idea isn’t half bad; I should’ve done that with Porter, warned him off Ainse. Well, I did, but a little too late to save her from her downward spiral over that douchebag. By then I’d developed an attraction for the girl and my reaction had been not only to protect her, but to keep him away from the girl, who I consider—in a platonic way—mine.

  “Are you two done?” They look at each other and give me a sharp nod. “Then, back to the reason why I’m here… Wait, she seriously told you all that?”

  “Yeah, and more,” JC adds. “We’re pretty tight.”

  “Tighter now that she moved close to us,” MJ confirms. “So tell us, loverboy, why are you here?”

  I scowl at them. Loverboy?

  “I’m dating your sister,” I begin. “Things between us might or might not work in the long run, but I swear I won’t hurt her.”

  JC takes a few steps forward and places his hand on top of my shoulder, then shakes his head. “You poor kid, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

  “She’s going to eat you alive,” MJ adds and places his hand on top of my free shoulder. “We’ll be here for you when it happens, buddy.”

  I drag my ass downstairs, disarm the security alarm, and open the door. Mason Bradley appears on the other side, wearing a pair of basketball shorts, a white t-shirt, and running shoes.

  “Did someone die?” My raspy voice is a combination of annoyance and concern.

  “No,” he responds. His husky voice sounds awake, fresh.

  I take his arm and check that fancy watch of his that has more buttons and screens than my phone. Six fifteen. I double check the time, and then glare at him. Without a word, I step back inside my house and shut the door.

  He speaks through the barrier, questioning my actions, “You closed the door. Are you okay?”

  “I may be a morning person, Mason,” I clarify, clearing my voice. “But I also like to sleep more than four hours a night. So if there’s no emergency, everyone we know is alive, and there’s no zombie apocalypses going on, then I’m heading back to bed.”

  “But we agreed about today. Date number two. You said, and I quote, ‘Yes, I’m up for almost anything, Mase, my calendar is pretty open.’ That was before you interrupted our bone-melting kiss, arguing that you had to head to bed. Which, if you did, then you slept about eight hours.”

  I open the door again and point to the kitchen. “Make some coffee, and I might not kill you for waking me up so early.”

  He stops right in front of me, brushes a gentle kiss across my forehead and gives me an infectious grin. Then he plants a couple of tantalizing kisses in the hollow of my neck.

  “So, bone-melting, huh?”

  I don’t understand why he keeps saying bone-melting, but my skin tingles as my body waits for his lips to touch it again with those lips.

  “Mind if I verify that is the correct word to define our kiss?”

  Mason doesn’t wait for me to respond; his arms envelop me into a hug. He presses his lips to mine, going from a sweet, tender caress, to a devouring, passionate hunger that awakens my senses and shatters my calm. My hands press the sides of his head as I eagerly respond with the same intensity, my tongue fusing with his. Yes, bone-melting kisses. Shivers ripple through my body as his hands glide under the light cami I wear and sear my skin. My breasts tingle and the ache between my thighs increases. Fighting the currents of desire, I tear my mouth away from his.

  If I don’t use caution, his kisses might become the air I need to breathe and the food my soul needs to survive. For a second, I panic because he can become my entire life, and the last time I let someone be that, I lost myself.

  “We have to stop.” I can’t think straight. There’s an internal fight going on in my head. The wanting more against the heart-wrenching fear of making the same mistake again. For one second, I want to place those barriers back, freeze my heart, and close myself off to the possibilities. Then I remember the emptiness I lived through. Living with fear isn’t living, letting my past dictate my present and my future ties me to the pain I lived.

  “Yes, our kisses are definitely bone-melting,” Mason’s voice breaks that confrontation. His rock-solid eyes remind me that he’s the
one person in this world who always has my back. He promised not to hurt me. Finally, I shake the doubts when I remember that he never breaks a promise.

  “Three point one four one five nine two—”

  “Why are you reciting pi?”

  “Because I have to control my body, or I’ll break the promise I made to you yesterday. Wait until we’re ready and not for the sake of having sex.” Mason kisses the tip of my nose and heads to the kitchen. “Go and change, Nine.”

  There, the best example of why I shouldn’t fear Mason: he remembered that I want our first time to mean something and not to be just a lustful moment.

  “Nine, wear running clothes.”

  Instead of asking what he has planned, I head to my room, hit the cold shower, and replay every moment of that kiss.

  I come out of the shower and head to my closet. The second shower in the past two hours. Our romantic second date was running. Some watch movies, others go to galleries, and a few repeat the dinner scene. We went for a jog. Well, we jogged and chatted at Washington Park Arboretum. A great experience, as we had a regular Mason-Ainsley interaction: work, my plans for the school, why I quit the substitute gigs.

  I check myself in the full-size mirror while combing my hair. Today, I’m not trying to impress anyone, not even myself. A white tank top, a black maxi skirt, and a pair of flat sandals will have to serve its purpose. I pull my hair into a bun. Today’s a cleaning house and running errands kind of day. There’s a shopping list on my phone that MJ sent over; those two swear I’m their executive assistant. Maybe later, I can head to the farmers market for some fresh fruit for their place and mine. But before I do any of those, I head to the kitchen to grab a snack. But before I reach the kitchen, the bell rings. I walk to the kitchen and check the monitor above the refrigerator. One of the front porch cameras shows Mason’s grainy face; the other camera, his broad shoulders covered by a dark t-shirt.

  “In a minute,” I say pressing the intercom button.

  “Forgot something?” I question as I swing the door open.

  His eyes sweep over my body, from head to bottom and all the way back. That cocky grin appears, but I only see it for a few seconds as Mason’s lips take possession of mine. It’s only a quick taste that leaves my mouth needing more. “This kissing you whenever I want is better than any video game I’ve ever played.”

  “You’re such a geek, Mason Bradley.” My voice comes out dreamy because we both know that video games are one of his passions, and my kisses trump that. “Not that I mind you kissing me senseless, but you left twenty minutes ago saying ‘thank you for the best second date’ and I assumed you called it a day.”

  “Date number two is over.” He lifts his arm, and I notice he’s holding a grocery bag. “We’re on date number three, Nine. Breakfast time!” His excited voice resonates through the walls.

  My spine straightens, and I tilt my head as I stare into his gray eyes. “Three dates in less than twenty-four hours? That’s cheating the system.” In fact, part of yesterday’s conversation replays in my head. The exact words were, ‘I’m leaving later tonight for a job.’ “What happened to that mission you had last night?” I cross my arms, my eyes become two slits and my foot taps on the floor.

  “I delegated.” He lifts a shoulder slightly then slumps his entire back. Not sure if he’s being casual about it or regretting it. “Maybe I wanted to accelerate the process when you mentioned that five date rule. However, after you stopped obsessing with having the perfect date and loosened up, I got to enjoy parts of you I’ve never had before.” He gives me a peck on the lips. “Including the physical portion of a relationship. Today I want to spend more time with you.”

  Surprising, yet expected. For a guy who doesn’t believe, he’s wooing with his own style. Yet I’ve always known he’s sweet.

  “More time. I like that.” My cheeks begin to hurt as the tips of my lips stretch further and further north each second we’re together. “We have plans today, including shopping. Let me feed you, Ten. I’ll throw some of my famous pancakes your way.”

  Before heading to the kitchen and taking a step of my own towards an equal relationship, I step closer, initiating what I hope is another soul searching kiss. A branding kiss in hopes that this is the beginning of a long, happy ride—together.

  I do not like the sight in front of me. There’re two cars parked outside Nine’s house. One of them I recognize as MJ’s jeep. I don’t want to run the plates of the other dark SUV, but it gives me an idea that Ainse isn’t alone. This was our last night for now; what the hell?

  Last night, after spending the entire day together, I offered to come over for another jog. This time I planned to take her to Green Lake Park. However, around four in the morning I received a call from my team in Norway. Since then, I’ve been working on troubleshooting the system we’re installing. As soon as I finished up that project, I called Nine to tell her I was now free and asked if we could do something.

  “Why don’t you come over for dinner?” she asked when I called her earlier.

  After we had agreed on the time, I went to the gym, worked out, showered, and dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I worked a couple of hours and then drove to her house.

  Here I am, but I fear that at least one or maybe both of her brothers are here. Yesterday, we spent all evening with them. I like the dudes, but they ran interception between Nine and me the whole freaking time. JC asked her for help with some music, MJ insisted on explaining the glitches they found in the new game I had sent him.

  I ring the bell and wait for Nine to open the door. It doesn’t happen. Instead, I find Gabe Colt on the other side. His blue, cold eyes staring at me

  “Can I help you with something, Son?” He blocks the entrance. “Directions on how to leave, maybe tips on who not to date. See, Mason, my husband is unhappy, and I hate when he’s upset. You upset him because you’re dating our little girl. How about we fix that?”

  “Gabriel!” I hear Nine yelling. “You promised to behave, Dad.”

  His dark-blond eyebrows crunch to a V in the center of his forehead and his jaw twitches. “I’m behaving, sweetheart. He’s still in one piece. See?” He moves away from the door, his palm pointing toward me.

  Finally, I spot Ainsley. Her curls fall down to her bare shoulders, a scarf covers some of the cleavage her white laced camisole blouse creates, and she’s wearing a short jean skirt that covers part of her long shapely legs. She’s barefoot, and for some stupid reason, I find that hot.

  “Oh, Father.” Nine rolls her eyes and walks to where I stand, pulling me toward her. “You and your husband are something of a nuisance, but I love you both.”

  “Hi.” I approach her and dip my head automatically taking her mouth with mine. “It’s good to see you.”

  “Nah-uh,” Gabe complains and AJ grunts. “Two inches apart from each other at all times. No touching, no talking, and definitely no kissing.”

  “Hi,” she whispers, rises on her tiptoes and brushes my lips. “Sorry about my guys, they promised to behave. Right, Daddy?”

  Gabe nods. The left side of his lip lifts up at the same time I watch movement from the corner of my eye, Chris Decker.

  “Bradley. Mind joining us in the backyard?”

  My body tenses; I’m not liking this at all. We went out on a date last Friday. Things started only days ago. Why would she tell her parents that we’re dating? My temples throb because she’s taking more steps than I care for. I look down at Ainse, who is now wearing a downhearted expression, her shoulders curved into a ball, and those green jewels dimmed.

  Sorry, Nine mouths, closing her eyes for a couple of breaths.

  She’s hurting, and my own heart clenches at the sight.

  I lift her chin with my index finger, lower my mouth to her ear and whisper, “Don’t be sorry. We’ll talk later.”

  She nods; I kiss her cheek and then hold her tight trying to erase the bad taste my reaction left her. I don’t know how I realized
it was me who caused the hurt. Fuck, I’ve never been the cause, only the one soothing her pain. This time, though, the agitation disappeared as fast as I held her in my arms.

  It all comes back to me. What an ass I am for not remembering sooner. This is Porter’s doing. He hated the idea of her parents knowing. He hid her for years and never wanted their relationship out in the open.

  Instead of walking out on her while telling her things aren’t as serious as a girl like her deserves, I cling to her a minute longer. I promise myself that we’ll find some middle ground to survive and stay together for as long as we can. She makes me want this.

  What is this girl doing to me?

  With one last kiss on the lips, I head to where her fathers wait for me.

  “AJ’s tough,” Gabe starts as I step outside.

  “On the outside, and extremely sensitive, too—she’s an artist,” Chris compliments what Gabe began. The part of being an artist and her sensible side is a foreign concept to me, but I don’t speak. “I trust her instincts, and she trusts you. In her mind there’s no limitation to what she can do, we can’t stop her from doing what she wants.”

  “Never could,” Gabe releases a chuckle. “God knows we tried to mold her into a refined young lady, as my lovely mother suggested when she held her granddaughter for the first time.”

  I’ve known her for a long time, and she always tried to keep up with the boys. She’s also feminine, soft around the edges.

  “There are two issues I have about this dating thing, Bradley,” Chris straightens his shoulders, and his green eyes shoot daggers at me. The same anger he emanated while I helped them move Nine’s stuff from Austin. Understanding dawns on me; he knew something was happening between Nine and me. “One is that there won’t be a man or a woman good enough for either of my children. You’ll understand when you’re older. The second, she was emotionally abused for years and can easily fall back into that pattern after the first time. She’s working hard to overcome all that fucked up shit, but I’d appreciate if you don’t take advantage of her.”