“Should we burn some sage to commemorate the occasion?”
“Shut up, Robbie.” I shove his arm, hiding my smile. “Even if all these salt lamps and incense and yoga and meditations do nothing, they give me some comfort and they don’t hurt anyone. It’s more a way for me to calm my mind than anything.”
My brother chuckles, reaching into his shirt. On a thin leather strap, the moonstone I gave him almost a year ago hangs.
“You still have it?”
“You told me it would keep me safe during my travels, so I figured it couldn’t hurt.” He grins, tucking it back underneath his shirt and patting his chest. “I still don’t really believe it, though.”
“You don’t have to.” I smile. “But you can’t deny it. You’re just a big, woo-woo-loving, pseudoscience-touting, crystal-wearing heathen.”
“Don’t tell Mom.”
I laugh, wrapping my arms around Robbie’s waist again. He ruffles my hair and lets out a sigh. “Come on. We’d better go downstairs and pretend to care about what Uncle Marco’s talking about.”
“Let me guess. He’s complaining about how kids these days don’t know hardship like he did. Walking uphill to school both ways.”
“Something like that.” Robbie grins, jerking his head toward the door.
We head downstairs, and my eyes are immediately drawn to Kit. He’s got a kid sitting on his lap and one of my sisters beside him, with an uncle on the other side practically yelling into his other ear. He looks completely overwhelmed—and if I’m honest, it’s kind of cute. They like him.
My family has absorbed him, like they do any strays who stumble in for a meal. Our eyes meet, and he gives me a gentle smile. My heart warms, his delicious heat thawing my fear. I feel something coursing through me stronger than it has in a long, long time.
It takes me a second to understand the feeling, but once I do, it sings clear and bright in my veins.
Hope.
The rest of the weekend is busy. Between the multitude of family dinners, I spend my days at my apartment packing everything up. Robbie and Kit help me move boxes and furniture to my storage locker and pretty soon, my apartment is nearly empty. I hadn’t planned on leaving for over six more weeks, but it feels good to be going now.
In the evenings, Robbie, Kit, and I usually have a drink as we sit around Robbie’s kitchen table. Those last three days in Connecticut feel like a final goodbye, even though I know I’ll be back. It’s my first time leaving for more than a vacation, and it feels significant.
On Sunday evening, the day before our flight across the country, I swirl my glass of wine and steal a glance at Kit.
“Are you sure you’re okay with me staying with you?”
“She’ll probably be burning incense and sticking crystals under your bed.” Robbie grins. “Fair warning.”
I kick my brother under the table. He yelps, laughing, and Kit chuckles.
“I’m never there, anyway. It’ll be fine. One of the other pilots at Woodvale Skydive has a sister who teaches at the elementary school. I can introduce you.”
I smile, nodding. “That would be nice. Meeting a future coworker will make it easier on my first day.”
My heart feels easy. I haven’t thought about Angelo all day, and I know I’ll barely sleep tonight from sheer excitement. In the morning, I’ll be gone. I won’t have to look over my shoulder or worry about what people are saying behind my back. I won’t have to endure comments from my family about marriage, or kids, or what a great fucking guy Angelo Berretti is.
Tomorrow morning, I’ll be free.
When we finish our wine and get ready for bed, I catch myself staring at the couch. Is it wrong that I want to invite Kit into the spare bedroom with me?
I mean, yes. Obviously. Wrong on many levels.
But I don’t have totally impure intentions. Part of me feels bad that he’s had a sore back all weekend because I took the bed. Part of me wants to feel his arms around me and nuzzle into the safety of his embrace.
Does part of me want to feel his skin under my palms and explore the solid hardness of his body? Do I want to drag his underwear off with my teeth and see what kind of cock he’s been hiding?
Yes, and not a small part. Heat has buzzed inside me all weekend, sending happy thrills to every corner of my body.
Kit’s got the raw strength that makes my lady brain quiver, but a gentleness—and gentlemanliness—I’ve never experienced before. He doesn’t look at me like he wants to own me. He looks at me like he wants to know me.
Yesterday, when we sat around the kitchen table having our evening drink, he asked me about teaching. He asked what my favorite grade to teach was and what subjects I preferred. He listened and nodded and asked follow-up questions.
I repeat: follow-up questions. About my job. My interests.
He cared.
I can tell you the exact number of times Angelo asked me about teaching in the ten years we were together. Zero. Not once. Never in our entire relationship did he take an interest in my career, my likes, my dislikes. When I think about it now, I wonder if he just simply didn’t even realize that I might actually have an opinion. He never thought highly enough of me to even consider the fact that I might have something to say.
When Kit asked me those questions, I got flustered. I felt embarrassed and I almost squirmed under his gaze.
But it was nice.
He listened.
As I curl up underneath the covers, staring at the ceiling, I wonder if my standards have really sunk that low. All it takes to make me melt is a guy to ask me a couple of questions about my job. Is that really so incredible?
I turn onto my side, tucking my knees into my stomach and taking a deep breath. If I’m really quiet, I can hear him moving around on the sofa. I can just about hear his breath. I can feel his presence like a bonfire in the next room, keeping me warm and safe and protected.
9
Kit
Serena has her hair tied back in a massive messy bun. She’s wearing black leggings that leave nothing to the imagination, and it takes all my self-control not to stare at her ass.
Even that baggy hoodie she has on does something for me. Maybe it’s the thought of how easy it would be to tear it off.
The three of us take the short flight up to Bradley International Airport, where it’s time for us to part ways. Serena will have to go through with the passengers, while Robbie and I have a few things to do before we head to the plane. We’ll be flying back to Woodvale, and I’ve got a week off before a long, six-week stint of weekly rotations flying back and forth on this route until Christmas.
I watch Serena give Robbie a kiss as she heads toward the airport security gates, and then turns to me and gives me a tight hug.
It has exactly the same effect as her first hug had on me—meaning my cock is suddenly rock-hard and trying its best to break free from the confines of my pants. The teeth of my zipper strain to hold me in, and I pray to anyone who will listen that Serena doesn’t feel it.
I pull away, clearing my throat. “See you on the other side.”
I can’t quite resist watching her walk away, until I tear my eyes away from her figure and give Robbie a nod. “Let’s go.”
The flight is smooth and uneventful, but it feels like it lasts twice as long as usual. When we land, Robbie gives me a smile.
“Thanks for this, Kit.”
“It’s nothing,” I answer. “You’d do the same for my sister.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about it earlier.”
“It’s cool, Robbie. Don’t worry about it.”
Robbie nods, letting out a long breath. Now that we’ve landed on the other side of the country, I can tell he’s relieved.
It makes me wonder what exactly happened between Angelo and Serena, and why the rest of their family doesn’t know about it—or care.
As we exit the plane, I shake Robbie’s hand. “See you in a week.”
“Take care of her.” His
face is serious. I nod.
I remember saying the exact same thing to Finn when I left town. I remember the gravity of the request, and how important to me it was to know he’d be there for her.
I also remember the betrayal of knowing he’d broken that trust and pursued my sister behind my back.
I won’t do that to Robbie.
I wheel my small bag to the baggage claim and find Serena standing next to one of the carousels. Her hip is cocked to the side, and she’s scratching her scalp under her mess of dark hair.
“Hey,” I say, coming to a stop beside her.
She smiles at me, and I almost fall back. “Hi.”
Does she have any idea how gorgeous she is? Even in shitty, artificial light after a cross-country flight, she looks as gorgeous as if she were walking a red carpet. Her lips are slick and shiny, and I wonder if she stopped off to put makeup on after the flight.
“How are you feeling?”
“Amazing,” she answers, hooking her arm around mine and leaning her head against my shoulder. “Like I can take on the world.”
My heart hammers. I like having her beside me like this. I love feeling the warmth of her body next to mine.
But what would Robbie think?
I’m grateful when Serena pulls away and heads for the carousel to grab her bags. Two big, black wheelie suitcases come off the carousel and she flashes another brilliant smile at me.
“Take me home, Kit.”
My heart. God, it swells when she says the word home. My pulse skates across the distance between us, begging for her to hear it. Asking her to reach into my chest and grab my heart with both hands.
Those words definitely shouldn’t have such an effect on me. A lump lodges itself in my throat, and all I can do is nod and gesture toward the staff parking lot. We wheel our bags in silence, and I do my best to walk in a straight line.
I feel dizzy. Overwhelmed. Light-headed.
This all seemed like a good idea when we were in New Haven. It seemed like the right thing to do.
Now, though? When Robbie’s on his way back across the country and Serena and I are alone?
I’m not so sure.
I help her put her bags in my car and slide into the driver’s seat, watching as she clicks her seat belt on and gives me a smile. “You good?”
I nod. “Yeah.” My voice is nothing more than a breathy rasp. Those leggings are painted over her perfect curves, and I just hope she doesn’t notice the bulge in my pants. My poor zipper.
The drive from Seattle to Woodvale takes a couple of hours. On a normal shift, I stay at the staff accommodations near the airport and only head back to Woodvale if I have at least a day off.
As we head out toward my hometown, Serena lets out a sigh.
“This is gorgeous.”
“Pretty gray and rainy out today.”
“Doesn’t matter,” she says. “I can imagine what it looks like in the spring and summer. I bet these forests are amazing.”
She smiles at me, and my heart does that heavy thumping again. I turn my head and keep my eyes on the road.
We don’t talk much. When we pull up outside my house, Serena smiles. Is it just me, or do her smiles seem brighter now? It’s like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. She’s glowing.
When we walk inside the house, and I point her to the guest bedroom, Serena lets out a long sigh and throws her arms around me.
“You have no idea what this means to me, Kit,” she says, her voice muffled in my chest. Her arms wrap around me, holding me close.
Orange creamsicle. Sweet, citrus temptation.
My body rebels. Can she feel that bulge? I try to keep some distance between our crotches, but Serena holds me close, and I relent. I wrap my arms around her and return the hug, curling my fingers into her shirt and inhaling the scent of her perfume. Inhaling the scent of her.
I let out a soft groan, loving the way she feels in my arms. Serena shifts and looks up at me, her big, brown eyes shining. The gloss on her lips has worn off, and I watch her tongue slide out and lick her bottom lip.
My cock throbs. My zipper strains.
We’re alone here. No family. No Robbie. No prying eyes.
Reaching up toward me, Serena runs her fingers over my cheek.
“I need to shave,” I whisper, just to say something.
“I like your stubble,” she replies softly.
I stare into her eyes, and every fiber of my being wants to kiss her. She licks her plump lips again, and a soft sigh slips through my lips. One of her arms is still wrapped around me while the other traces circles over my temple, my cheek, my jaw.
My hands drift lower, resting on her lower back. She rolls her hips toward me, and I know she feels my hardness. How could she not? It throbs against her stomach, a bright beacon of exactly what she does to me. Every heartbeat pulses, showing her just how much I want her.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Serena presses herself against me, letting her lips drop open. Her fingers trace the outline of my bottom lip, and I know we’re standing on a knife’s edge.
Would it be wrong to see this through? To crush my lips against hers and rip that loose hoodie off her body? To taste her skin and drag my tongue over every inch of her? To feel her sex and make her moan?
Yes.
It would be more than wrong. It would be the exact thing I despised about Finn. I’d be taking advantage of a situation where Robbie isn’t here and hooking up with his sister.
I can’t do that to Robbie. I can’t do that to myself. I’ve sat on my high horse for months, thinking I was right to be mad at Finn, and now I’m going to turn around and do the exact same thing?
No.
Pulling away, I clear my throat. “Sorry,” I rasp.
I don’t have to explain what I’m sorry about. Serena nods. “Yeah.” Her cheeks are pink and she ducks her head away from me. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“We shouldn’t…”
“I know.”
“Your brother…”
“I know, Kit.” Her eyes snap back to mine. “It’s cool. I…I got carried away.”
I rough my hand through my hair, not knowing what to say. Should I tell her how much I want her? It’s pretty obvious based on the wood in my pants.
“I should unpack,” she says. “Let’s just forget about the last thirty seconds, okay?”
“Okay,” I answer, even though I know there’s no forgetting about anything.
I walk to the bathroom, turn on the shower, and jerk myself off as I think of her. When thick, white ropes spurt out of me, I catch myself against the cool tile wall and gulp down air, squeezing my eyes shut and cursing my weakness.
10
Serena
I haven’t slept this well in years. Literal years. I wake up feeling like a new person. I don’t know if it’s the clean, fresh air in Woodvale or the feeling of complete freedom, but something is different.
I can hear Kit moving around in the kitchen, which makes my heart skip a beat. He shouldn’t make me feel this way, I know. We should be keeping it platonic.
But there’s something there. There’s a tug between us. A draw. An attraction.
I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head.
I’m on the rebound, is all. The best thing I can do for myself is stay far, far away from men for as long as possible—including Kit. I need to heal myself first, not fall into the arms of the first guy who asks me why I like teaching third grade.
Pulling on some clothes and throwing my unruly hair in a bun, I walk out of the spare bedroom and join Kit in the kitchen. He smiles at me, and my heart melts.
It just dissolves right there in my chest, and I’m pretty sure my ovaries squeal in happiness. Something about the sleepiness in his eyes and the genuine softness of his smile just makes everything go gooey.
Kit jerks his head to the coffee machine, and I help myself. We don’t speak much, which I appreciate. I’m not not a morning person, but I like c
omfortable silence. I take my coffee to the living room, tucking my feet underneath my body as I sit on the couch.
Then, the front door opens, and a girl with a buzzed head walks through. She’s got a slim, black choker around her neck—is it a shoelace?—and a cropped, baggy black T-shirt on. Her puffy jacket is open, and her jeans are ripped in a million different places. With eyes rimmed in thick, black eyeliner, she looks like she’s ready to take on the world. She’s short—I’d guess barely taller than five feet—but I still would think twice about taking her on in a fight. She’s carrying a dish covered in tin foil.
The girl doesn’t see me right away. As she kicks the door closed behind her with her big, black combat boots, she calls out into the house. “Kit! I have pie for you!”
Her eyes swing around the room, and she finally sees me. Her eyebrows jump up. “Oh. Hello.” She tilts her head. There’s no animosity in her face, just a sense of deep curiosity.
“Hi.” I clear my throat, standing up. “I’m Kit’s new roommate.”
Her eyebrows stretch even farther up her face as she gives me a slow nod, extending a hand for me to shake. “Roommate,” she repeats, her lip tugging at the corner. “Interesting. I’m Esme. Sister. Well, half-sister, technically.”
I’m not proud of this, but the knowledge that she’s Kit’s sister makes me relax. I never said I was perfect, and I never said I wanted to keep things friendly with Kit. I just said we should.
My lizard brain disagrees, obviously. The hidden, deep parts of my mind instantly back down at the knowledge that Esme’s not a threat. At least not in that way, anyway.
I search my mind for everything I know about Kit’s sister. I think Robbie told me she was sick?
“Kit’s sister,” I repeat, nodding. “You’re the one who—”
Had cancer.
I stop myself before I word-vomit all over the room.
Don't Need You: A Brother's Best Friend Romance (We Shouldn't Book 3) Page 7