Brothers Next Door

by Samantha Twinn

  A hot blush creeps over my face, and I stare at the floor. I remember several nights on the roof when we’d stayed up well into the early morning hours talking. Time got away from us. That was always our excuse.

  “I won’t,” I say a little too breathy and rub my arm, trying to get rid of the goosebumps he’s gaze is causing.

  Tyler steps into the hall, getting so close I can feel the heat radiating off his body, but not touching me. The hallway feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out and I can’t catch my breath. He reaches out, and my skin tingles in anticipation as if the memory of that touch is imprinted on a cellular level.

  But his arm drops and he shakes his head as if trying to get rid of a thought. “What happened, Brenna?”

  My stomach twists at the question. I’ve had this conversation a million times in my head. The truth is, I made a mistake. I should have stayed. I should have talked to him before I left. There are a million I should haves that haunt me, but there’s no going back.

  “I’m sorry,” I say in a bare whisper. “I made a bad decision. One I’ve regretted ever since.”

  “You’re sorry?” Tyler asks, tipping up my chin. There’s anger in his eyes, but also something else. He steps closer, invading my space. “We had a plan. We were going to leave together. Why did you go without me?”

  “Because you father asked me to,” I say, honestly. “He told me about the cancer. I know you were angry after he left your mom, but you would have regretted not staying.”

  “Don’t you think that should have been my choice?” he says.

  He’s so close. His hot breath tickles my skin, making me tingle all over. I want him to touch me, kiss me, slap me…something. Anything.

  “You would have chosen me,” I say.

  “You’re right.”

  He lets go of my chin, and his fingers brush along my jaw, down my neck to the tattoo that rests on my collarbone. I bite my lips to hold back the moan growing in my throat. God, it feels so good to have his hands on me again.

  “You’re also right about my dad. We patched things up, and I’m glad I stayed.” He lets out a breath, emotions warring in those serious whiskey-colored eyes. “You could have waited for me.”

  Now it’s my turn to get angry. “You know I couldn’t stay here. This place was killing me,” I reply. Besides that, I did wait. I waited for almost eight fucking years for him to follow. I squeeze my eyes shut and beat back years of emotions. “You could have called me. I kept the same number all these years, hoping one day you would.”

  “Seriously, Brenna? I told you I’d be home after I finished this level,” Landon says storming through the door. “We all died by the way. Thanks a lot.”

  “Dude, don’t be an asshole,” Tyler says and takes a step away. “Next time ask your sister before you come over.”

  Landon rolls his eyes. That boy is going to hurt himself doing that—or I’m going to hurt him. Either way, nothing good will come from him rolling his eyes at me.

  “Go downstairs and get ready for bed,” I say. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  The elevator doors close, but not before I see him flip me off. Deep breath. Things have to get better. It can’t get much worse.

  I turn back to see Tyler staring at me with a frown. “I can’t do this, again,” he said, shaking his head. “It was nice seeing you again, Brenna.”

  And with that Tyler turns and shuts the door behind him.

  I’m left alone standing in the hall, confused and a little hurt. What just happened?

  When I get back to my apartment, I find that Landon has locked himself in his bedroom with the music turned up. Whatever.

  At least, I can relate to his current mood.

  My own emotions are ragged after the scare and running into Tyler like that. The icy reception stung, not that I expected anything else.

  As much as I want to dissect that unsettled conversation, I can’t. I push away thoughts of Tyler. Because right now, I have to deal with my brother.

  Chapter Five

  TYLER

  Why did Brenna leave in the middle of the night without me?

  It’s a question that’s haunted me for years. One I never expected to get an answer to, and now that I do, I’m not sure it matters.

  She’s sorry?

  Screw that. Her apology doesn’t make me feel any better.

  She regrets leaving.

  But what did that even mean? If she regretted it so much, why didn’t she came back? No, she went on with her life without me.

  And the kicker is, after all these years, I still want her. And there she was standing at my front door. Only now she’s a totally different person.

  I still can’t believe it’s her. Even after Dean came back from the gym saying he’d talked with her and confirmed that the stranger in the lobby was indeed Brenna. I still couldn’t believe that woman with the dyed hair and tattoos could be the sweet girl I fell in love with all those years ago.

  And in a very real way, she wasn’t. Brenna said she wanted a new life. It seems like she went out and found one.

  Unlike me.

  After she left, I fell right into the role my father always had planned out for me. College, a management position at the firm, and now that Dad is retired, CEO.

  I flop down onto the sofa and grab my beer, chugging down the warm remains. Anger and morbid curiosity war inside my brain. I try telling myself that I got my closure. I should just let it go and try to avoid her, but another part of me—a more persistent part—wants to know everything about her life. Where did she go? What has she been doing all these years? What’s with the new look?

  Other than those piercing blue eyes, she’s nothing like the girl I knew. The girl that haunted my dreams. Was our brief relationship just a phase? After all, she moved on and forgot all about me—about us.

  But that isn’t true either.

  I saw it in the way her breath sped up when I opened the door. The blush that crept across her face. She was just as rattled by that surprise meeting as I was. I know she felt the energy that sparked between us when I stepped close, when I touched her.

  And she couldn’t hide the disappointment in her eyes when I stepped away without kissing her.

  My balls ache just remembering the soft moan she tried to hide when I slid my fingers down her neck. It is just like I remembered. Fuck, she evens smells the same, like a ripe peach with a hint of vanilla. My sheets would smell like her for days after we made love.

  Does she taste the same?

  I close my eyes and try to remember the feel of her skin, but my mind starts to wander.

  Is there a man in her life? I didn’t think to check for a ring. And if there is one, do I care? Our relationship, if that’s what you’d even call it, was a long time ago. I’ve moved on; she probably did too.

  But the thought of another man touching her makes me see red. I’m not sure how I feel about her yet, but I know one thing for sure, I don’t want anyone else to have her.

  Luther raises his head and huffs as he struggles to get his gangly leg underneath him on the slick wood floor. The Great Dane lays his head on the arm of the sofa and whimpers as if sensing the quagmire of emotions Brenna’s visit has drudged up.

  “What should I do, Luther? Do I ignore her? Too much time has passed, and too many things have happened. And who knows if she’s going to stick around this time.”

  I stroke the soft fur of his nose and try to play out exactly how that would work now that she’s living here. I could avoid the elevators if I see her. Maybe I should insist that Landon stop coming by. Pretend like I don’t care if I see her with another guy. All of that sounds horrible.

  Luther stands up and climbs over the arm of the sofa. With his rear legs still on the floor, he lays across my lap and whimpers.

  “You’re right. That’s a bad idea,” I say and scratch behind his ear. “Maybe I should go downstairs and confront her? I could demand real answers about what happened, and maybe after
that, we could try to be friends. At the very least, we could try to come to some kind of easy truce.”

  Luther pushes my hand with his nose when I stop petting, a whiny growl coming from the back of his throat.

  “Drag her back to my bed and stay there until we figure this out?”

  “Woof,” he agrees.

  I sigh and rub behind the big oaf’s ear. “I like your enthusiasm, but as much as I want to, I don’t think that’s the best way to work through this issue.”

  “Are you talking to the dog again?” Dean says as he walks in the door.

  “At least he listens to me,” I say and pat Luther’s head. “Isn’t that right, boy?”

  “Only because he’s a captive audience.” Dean tosses his keys onto the table and sinks down beside me. “Today was a fucking long day. Thank God, it’s over. I need a drink and a long soak in the hot tub. Want to join me downstairs so we can talk about what’s going on with the Union Street building?”

  “Let’s talk about it at the office tomorrow,” I hedge, not really in the mood to talk business. My head is muddled with old and new feelings about Brenna. She’s back—at least for now—and I have to figure out what I’m going to do about it.

  He glances up at the big screen as if just noticing the War Strike main menu and cocks an eyebrow. “Did Landon come by? Did he bring Brenna? Did you see her? I told you it was her.”

  “You were right. Too bad I already opened that bottle of Scotch,” I say, trying to change the subject. I can’t talk about her without bringing up a whole truckload of shit I’m not ready to face. “I’m going to crash early. Enjoy your soak.”

  I head back to my room. The click-clack of Luther’s paws echo behind me as I push open the door and collapse on the bed. What a fucking roller-coaster of a day. I toss an arm over my face and close my eyes.

  A familiar scene plays out in my mind.

  Brenna stretched out on my bed wearing nothing but a white lacy bra and plain cotton panties. Only this time, instead of a curvy blonde, I picture black and purple hair fanned out around her thinner, more mature body. The white undergarments stand out against the colorful ink that runs down her arm.

  I groan and cup my hardening dick. Fuuuuck. I’m in so much trouble.

  Chapter Six

  BRENNA

  I bang on Landon’s door, determined to lay down some ground rules tonight. I don’t know much about raising a burgeoning teen, but I have a feeling if I don’t set clear rules, he’s just going to keep pushing back. I have to show my dominance in our relationship.

  Or is that what you do when training dogs?

  God. I really don’t know what I’m doing, but I have to learn fast. I don’t have much choice.

  I knock again. The door swings open with a bang and my pissed off little brother stares me down.

  “What?”

  I cross my arms and try for my best “disapproving” look. Sadly, we’re the same height, and I feel a lot less imposing than I had a few minutes ago.

  “Do you know how angry I am right now?” I say. “You can’t do that.”

  “Do what?” he says, sounding annoyed.

  “You can’t leave the apartment without telling where you’re going. I’m responsible for you,” I say, trying to soften my tone. I don’t want to be his enemy, but I can’t have him running off like that anymore. “What were you doing up there anyway?”

  “Tyler lets me play on his Xbox whenever I want as long as I walk Luther when I get home from school. He even gave me a key. Dad doesn’t let—” He pauses for just a second, but then he goes on. “Dad didn’t let me play War Strike.”

  “I don’t care what you play,” I say. “I’ll buy you a copy of War Strike, but I’m serious about letting me know where you’re going. I was terrified something had happened to you.”

  “Listen,” he says, crossing his arms to mirror my pose. “We don’t have to pretend this is anything more than a five and half year prison sentence for both of us. I know you don’t want to be here, so I promise to stay out of your way as long as you stay out of mine. I’ll be eighteen soon, and then you can go back to wherever you were hiding.”

  I stand there mouth agape, unable to form words. Anger, denial, depression. I was expecting all that, but I’m not sure how to handle Landon’s outright rejection and scorn.

  “Of course I want to be here. We’re family. Family should be there for each other,” I argue.

  He tosses me a ‘yeah, right’ look. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Brenna. Listen, I get it, you feel guilty. But don’t be. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  Landon turns and shuts the door before I can respond. And once again I find myself alone in an empty hallway, rejected.

  Maybe Liv is right. Coming back here has opened all kinds of wounds I thought were healed. Dejected, I shuffle back to my room, feeling like I’ve taken a giant step backward in my life.

  Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about it tonight. Landon is going to take work. He has no reason to trust me and I’ll to have to earn his respect.

  And Tyler… I haven’t a clue what I’m going to do about him.

  He doesn’t look much different from the last time I saw him. A little older, sure. But he still wears his sandy brown hair short and boyishly disheveled. It makes him look more innocent than he actually is but no less sexy.

  It was easy for me to ignore my feelings for him after I left. Out of sight, out of mind. But there's no way I can do that now. He’s my neighbor. We’re going to see each other a lot.

  So many things went wrong in our relationship. I left. He moved on. But judging by his response tonight, neither one of us has had any closure.

  I close my eyes and try to forget the feel of his hand on me. I want a drink and really need Liv. She’d know exactly what I should do with Tyler. I crawl into bed and channel my inner Liv.

  “Forget Tyler,” I say aloud in her voice. “Find a nice guy. Have some fun. And fuck him.”

  Yeah, not so helpful.

  Tomorrow is a new day. And as much as I want to fix things with Tyler, I don’t have time for drama with my ex. I have to focus on Landon.

  I’m emotionally exhausted, but my bed is not the sanctuary I’d hoped it would be. Sleep is eluding me, and all I can do is stare at the ceiling, knowing that Tyler is just a few feet above me. Maybe even in the same bed we shared.

  I’ve spent years imagining what would happen if I ran into him again. Not one of those fantasies ended with a door being shut in my face. I don’t even blame him, but that doesn’t mean my heart didn’t break a little more.

  I took a risk when I left. I knew he’d be mad, but I thought, after reading my letter, he’d understand. Maybe even join me after his father finished treatment. I waited for him. Even after the first year passed and I didn’t hear from him, I held onto the hope that one day Tyler would call me.

  I wasn’t lying. I kept the number I left him, refusing to change it after all these years. I still had that eight-year-old flip-phone. I had this fantasy that he’d call and say he was ready to be with me. Hope faded fast, but I clung to that fantasy like a life preserver when things got rough. But now, that fantasy is dead. Smashed to bits in the twelfth-floor hall.

  “Shit,” I mutter and roll over, dragging the covers over my head. How the hell am I going to live here for the next five years without going crazy?

  Another fifteen minutes pass, and it’s obvious that I’m not getting any sleep, so I stumble out of bed and pull on my running gear.

  When I get downstairs, the exercise room is completely empty. I miss my crowded local gym. I even miss the bad pop music and the yummy mommies. But tonight I’m grateful for the solitude. There are too many warring emotions weighing down on me, and I can’t put on a friendly mask and pretend like everything is fine. Because everything is fucked and I don’t know what I’m going to do.

  I put in my earbuds and start running.

  I�
��d only planned on running a mile to help clear my head, but that turns into two, then three. After the third mile, I stop looking. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been running. Hell, it feels like I’ve been running my whole life. I just want to run until the ache in my limbs drowns out the ache in my heart.

  Chapter Seven

  DEAN

  I’ve always been a night owl. Years of late night study sessions at law school will do that to you. I only need about five hours sleep and prefer to do laps late at night when I have the pool all to myself.

  It’s past midnight. And at this hour, I usually have not only the pool empty but the whole gym. So I’m surprised to hear someone pounding away on the treadmill as I head to the locker room. I peek through the window in the door, curious as to which of my neighbors is up at this hour, and see a solitary figure running.

  I can’t hold back the smile that spreads across my face. This really is my night.

  Tonight, I finally closed the deal with Lash Equity, and now I’ve run into the very woman who’s been haunting my dreams. It’s been almost a week since I ran into Brenna. I’ve been waiting for another opportunity to talk to her, but our paths haven’t crossed. I even contemplated knocking on her door but didn’t want to seem desperate.

  And here she is, alone.

  I push open the door and drop my bag on the bench. She doesn’t even look up or miss a step. I don’t want to that creepy guy in the gym, but I’m not much of a runner.

  I look around the room and see the rowing machine in the corner. I can do few reps and ease into a conversation with Brenna while she finishes her run.

  “Looks like you’ve been at it for a while,” I say between stokes. She doesn’t respond, so I try again. “Do normally work out this late?”

  She tucks a loose lock of her hair back behind her ear, and that’s when I see the headphones. I’m an idiot. With a shake of my head, I decide to do that workout after all and increase the tension on the machine. The steady pounding of her feet creates a perfect rhythm for my own motion. She doesn’t miss a step or slow down, and before I know it, I’ve worked up quite a sweat.