by J. Saman
“They won’t mind?” he asks skeptically, and for good reason, because they probably will. But they need to get over that. It’s not like I haven’t had to endure Aubrey’s revolving door of women.
“They’ll live.” I smile. “You should come if you can. I’m actually a pretty good cook.”
Brandon wraps his hands around my back, pressing my body against his. “Then I’d love to come. What time?”
“Whenever you’re done with practice is fine. We’re not exactly formal or anything.
“All right.” He pulls my body into his. “Can I stay over that night?”
And I falter. For so many reasons.
“Can we come back here?” There seems to be a big difference between his roommates possibly hearing us and my brother and Xander. A big difference.
And though I hate this house, hate it with every fiber of my being, it still seems like the better alternative.
I bite my lip, worrying that I may insult him with this, but he just laughs it off instead.
“Yeah, that might be better.” He leans down and kisses the spot just below my jaw, before trailing his mouth to the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my body.
Jesus. “You need to stop because I actually do need to get home.”
“You’re addictive, Abby, and I haven’t even gotten started with you.” He pulls back, his eyes so full of lust that I’m really tempted to miss my Monday morning class.
“We need to go,” I whisper with very little conviction.
“Then let’s go.” He smiles, reaching down and taking my hand, leading me out of his room.
My mind is so completely full of thoughts that by the time we pull up to my apartment, I realize that I have no memory of the trip home. Things with Brandon this afternoon were fun. Easy. Low stress and low maintenance.
And I like him.
I do.
I just don’t know how much. A part of me feels that he may like me more than I like him.
But all of that can change, I remind myself.
My issues with this are stupid and futile. I need to get over it and move on. Brandon seems like a good person to do that with. He makes me feel special, which in my college experience, is a rare commodity. He parks the car and acts like he’s about to get out, but I stop him for some reason.
I feel the need for a little space from him and I feel guilty as shit for that.
“No need to walk me to the door, I can make it,” I tease, trying to lighten the dark ominous mood that’s parked itself in my brain.
“I don’t mind.” He smiles.
“I know, but it’s late. You should get back.” That sounds bad, doesn’t it?
“You sure?” Thankfully, he doesn’t see it the way I apparently mean it.
“I’m sure. I had fun with you today.” And that’s the truth. I did have fun.
“Me too.” He leans in and kisses me, the way a boyfriend kisses his girlfriend. My stomach twists with guilt. What is my problem? “Can I call you later?”
I shake my head. “I’m going straight to bed. I think you zapped all of my energy.”
He laughs but doesn’t look wounded.
“Then I’ll call you tomorrow. Night, babe.” Another gentle kiss and then I’m out of the car, flying through the doors of my building and my apartment like I’m being chased by fire.
“Hey,” I hear Aubrey say from the kitchen as I slam the door behind me. “You’re out late, considering your schedule tomorrow.”
I roll my eyes, my back pressed against the door. Does he have to sound like my father instead of my brother?
“We went to a movie,” I offer by way of explanation as I enter the kitchen to find Aubrey and Xander eating nasty MSG Chinese food out of the container. And even though I haven’t eaten dinner, I’m not hungry for that.
“Did you actually get any work done on your paper, or did you just spend the whole day with your new boyfriend?” Xander asks, leaning back against the counter, casual as hell. Why does he have to sound like my father too?
“I didn’t actually.” I scrunch my nose, leaning my back against the counter on the opposite side. “How did you know he was my boyfriend?” Both Xander and Aubrey blanch, apparently neither of them liking this new realization.
I’m so stupid.
Of course they didn’t know.
“Oh Abby.” Aubrey shakes his head. Xander’s eyes harden momentarily before they turn back to impassive like he realized he actually doesn’t give a shit who my new boyfriend is.
“Ease up, Aubrey. He’s a good guy, okay? He’s been nothing but nice and respectful to me. I don’t need your overprotective crap. I need my brother.”
God, I’m in a foul mood. Why am I so defensive with this?
Aubrey watches me for another long moment before sighing deeply, popping another piece of chicken into his mouth and chewing. “Fine. I’ll trust you. If you say he’s a good guy, I’ll believe you. I’m just surprised he’s already your boyfriend.” His emphasis on the word holds a note of sarcasm.
“Me too, actually. He brought up being exclusive when he took me for a walk in the park.” I shrug, like it’s not really that big of a deal, but it seems like it is.
And maybe it’s a little fast too, but clearly Aubrey is not the person to speak to about all of this. At least not yet. Xander is sitting on top of the counter in my usual spot, eating something that resembles lo mein with chopsticks. His eyes are very focused on what he’s doing right now.
“I invited him over for Tuesday night dinner,” I say, a little nervous despite the fact that I’m the one doing all the cooking.
“Ah, Abby,” Aubrey says a little put out, and the only reaction I get from Xander is the clenching of his jaw. Aubrey takes another deep breath. “Fine,” he grumbles. “But you don’t look happy. Why don’t you look happy if you have a new boyfriend you like?”
Damn, he just had to hit the nail on the head, didn’t he?
“I’m happy,” I say far too defensively, and I think both Xander and Aubrey notice.
“Okay.” He’s not convinced.
I smile, walking over to him and giving him a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, Aubs. I do love you so.” I wink, making him laugh. “I gotta go do some work. I’ve neglected my studies, but I’ll see you two lovely ladies in the morning.” I turn, heading for the exit on the opposite side of the side of the kitchen. “Night,” I call out.
“Abby?” Xander’s voice stops me and I turn back around to face him fully, because something in his tone makes me do that. “Is he really what you want?” With the lack of emotion in his voice, he could just as well have been talking about the weather. But the fact that he’s actually asking, even if it’s only for Aubrey’s sake, warms me.
So I decide to give him an honest answer. “I don’t know, Xander. Maybe.”
He nods once, but that’s all the acknowledgment my words get.
“Good night.” I look at him, offering a soft smile, before heading back to my room.
And as my eyes scan my walls, focusing on a picture of Xander, Aubrey, Nina, and I at a show our freshman year, I realize what my hang-up is. Brandon doesn’t have much of a personality. At least not one that I’ve seen.
He pushes for what he thinks I’m looking for.
He told me he reads a lot, but there were no books or even an e-reader in his room. He took me to a serious movie, thinking I would like it. The Thai restaurant is another good example. His bedroom is a blank slate.
So who are you, Brandon Kessler?
CHAPTER 15
“I look like a slut,” I squeak.
“You do not. Shut up and own it. You’re hot. If I had your body, I’d rock a string bikini to the bar,” Grace says, staring at my reflection in my floor-length mirror.
“Right,” I deadpan. “Because clearly you’re the vision of a hideous ogre.”
“Hey, we ogre’s need loving too.”
I roll my eyes. “So what? You’re like, the next top model or
something?”
“Jesus, Abby, that show has been off the air forever. Catch up, will ya?” Nina chastises me.
“Whatever. You bitches need to get out of my room so I can finish up. I don’t like adjusting my boobs with an audience.”
They laugh, but leave me to do my bidding.
Tonight is Xander’s birthday. He’s officially twenty-one, and as a result, we’re having a celebratory drink at our place before going to the requisite bar. Ever since he helped me with my manuscript, he’s been pleasant to me. I even catch him looking at me on occasion, which I begrudgingly admit to loving.
A moment later, just as the last girl is set in place, I’m standing in front of the mirror, swiping on my red lipstick when I hear a knock on my door.
“Can I come in?” I hear Xander’s voice before I see his reflection in my mirror. And holy sweet hell, he looks good. He’s wearing a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, dark wash jeans, black boots, and his hair is styled into perfectly controlled mayhem. He even has a thin layer of stubble lining his jaw.
“Sure,” I say, needing a second to catch my breath. I really shouldn’t be reacting to him like this, but I can’t seem to help it.
“You said you wanted—” He pauses and stares back at me the same way I was just staring at him. “Wow. Um.”
I see him swallow as his eyes rake in my green mini dress with a deep V-neck. It’s not my normal style. In fact, it’s Nina’s dress. But they insisted, and I liked the color so I gave in with one caveat. I’m wearing my Doc Marten combat boots.
“You look incredible.”
“Thanks.” I smile, trying to hide my blush. I spin around to face him and he smiles down at me, though his eyes are now fixed on my cheek. “You look pretty good yourself.”
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yeah.” And now I’m really blushing, even if I shouldn’t be. It’s silly to be embarrassed or nervous, but I feel like Xander and I have a truce going on, and I wanted to get him a birthday present. Something I know he’s wanted for a while. “I got you a present.”
“Oh.” His eyes widen in surprise. “You didn’t need to do that.”
“I know, but I saw it and I got it for you.”
Scrambling away from his penetrating gaze, I grab the wrapped box from the floor of my closet. He takes it with a small half smile on his lips before tearing into the paper like a kid on Christmas.
“I saw that yours were really old and worn and not wireless, so…” I trail off from my meager explanation, feeling all kinds of awkward as he just stands there, staring at the wireless headphones I bought him.
“Jesus, Abby,” he whispers. “I can’t believe you did this.” I can’t tell if he’s saying this in a good or a bad way. His tone is completely lacking any intonation that would help decipher his meaning.
“I can return them if you don’t like them.”
“No,” he says quickly, his eyes making a rare trip up to mine and a breathtaking smile lights up his face. “I love them. Thank you.”
He hesitates for a moment, unsure of what he wants to do next. So I solve the problem for him by reaching out and wrapping my arms around him in a hug.
“Happy birthday,” I whisper.
His arms snake around me, pulling me tighter into his chest and we both breathe out a contented sigh. He hasn’t hugged me since freshman year, and I don’t even know how to describe the sensation of it.
We pull back and he spins me around so that I’m facing the mirror again, his hands clasping my upper arms. His eyes are dark and slightly hooded as he takes me in, the smallest of smirks detectable on the edge of his full lips.
“Do you remember the first birthday we spent together? It was Christmas vacation at your parent’s house in Philadelphia.”
I nod. And swallow. And try to clear my suddenly dry throat.
“I snuck into your room the day after Christmas and woke you up so that I could be the first to wish you happy birthday.”
And now I’m smiling because that was a great way to wake up. “You quoted Shakespeare to me. ‘When we are born we cry that we are come to this great stage of fools.’”
“Yes.” He nods, stepping a little closer, his warmth like a balm against my back. “Is Brandon coming tonight?”
I shake my head at the sudden shift in conversation. “I u–um.” I blow out a breath. “I didn’t invite him actually.”
Xander smiles. “Why not?”
I don’t know. I just didn’t. It didn’t feel right for some reason. When Brandon came for Tuesday dinner there was too much tension in the room between them. Nothing overt, but still palpable. Or maybe that was all on me.
“I didn’t think you liked him much.”
“Hmmm.” Xander moves my heavy hair, brushing his fingertips along my neck as he shifts it over one shoulder, exposing half of my neck. His hand glides along the curve until his fingers are splayed across the front of my neck. He’s not squeezing or strangling, just resting his palm and fingers flat. And then his pleased grin grows.
“Does Brandon make your heart race like it is now?”
My skin heats as I feel my pulse thrash against his fingers.
“Or make your skin glow that beautiful shade of pink?”
My tongue juts out, licking my suddenly dry lips as I watch his reflection touch my neck like this, feeling my fevered skin. I can’t even speak.
“I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.”
More Shakespeare. “Xander—”
“We should go,” he says, jerking back away from me so suddenly it startles me. “I wouldn’t want you to do anything you’d regret in the morning.”
Huh?
“Thanks for my present. It’s perfect. Sort of like you.” And then he turns and leaves my room at a lightning pace, clutching the headphones in his hand.
I have no idea what just happened.
But I know I need a moment to learn how to breathe at a normal rhythm again.
Grabbing my bag off the floor, I realize I’m going to have to be really careful if I decide to bend at any point tonight. Jesus, this dress is short. Maybe I should change?
“Abby!” Aubrey yells. “Get your ass in here for a shot. It’s getting late and I want to get to the bar before it gets too crowded.”
So much for changing.
I round the corner into the kitchen where everyone is congregating, shot glasses in hand. “Here,” Gavin hands me one of my own that I recognize as whiskey.
“Merci,” I say with a wink.
“I don’t do toasts, so happy birthday, asshole,” Aubrey says and I just want to roll my eyes at that.
“Thanks, dickhead,” Xander says.
“Happy birthday,” we all say as we clink glasses before tossing down the amber liquid.
“Damn. Aubrey, what is this?” I ask, licking my lips. It’s smooth as hell.
“Nice, huh? I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”
“Nice indeed.” I widen my eyes at the bottle of bourbon that I know must have cost him a hundred dollars. “It’s adorable how you saved it for your man-lover.”
“You only turn twenty-one once,” Nina chimes in. “Can we go now? I’m looking forward to someone serving me drinks, instead of the other way around.”
“Sure. But we’re walking, so you need to put a coat on,” Aubrey says to me. “And maybe change your dress to something that actually covers your skin.”
“Don’t start with her,” Nina says, nudging Aubrey’s shoulder. “She looks hot.” A wicked smirk pulls up her pink frosted lips. “Don’t you think, Xander?”
I have no idea what she’s playing at with this. If anything, it’s just going to piss him off.
“Whatever,” he grumbles, the tips of his ears turning pink. Xander hates being the center of attention just as much as I do.
“Let’s go,” Grace says. “I don’t want to be out too late night. I have a class in the morning.”
The b
ar we’re going to is only three blocks away. It would be our regular hangout if Nina didn’t work at Brew’s. The bar isn’t all that crowded as it’s a Wednesday night, but because it’s Xander’s birthday, a few friends came out to meet up. I order everyone a round of shots at the bar because that’s what you do on a twenty-first birthday.
“Hey Abby.” I look over to see my friend Brian standing next to me with a big smile. Brian’s a really nice guy and I like his girlfriend Mei a lot. But Brian is one of those people who does not respect other people’s personal space. When he speaks to you, he’s practically nose to nose.
It used to bother the hell out of me, it’s still not exactly my favorite, but I’ve adjusted over the years that I’ve known him.
He’s not doing it to be creepy, it’s just how he is.
“Hey Brian, how are you?” I glance around him. “Where’s Mei?”
“Oh, she has an early class tomorrow and a paper to finish, so she stayed home.”
“Ah, too bad. I haven’t seen you much this semester, how’s it going for you?”
He leans into me even further which I didn’t realize was possible. I shift my position so that I’m angling my hips away from him. “It’s going well. I have—” And suddenly a hand comes out of nowhere, pushing Brian in the center of the chest to the ground.
What the hell?
Brian looks equally as shocked as his ass hits the ground hard before he slides a foot or so back. “Back off, bro,” Brandon seethes, “she’s my girlfriend.”
“Brandon, what the hell was that?” I yell in complete outrage. I cannot believe he just did that to poor Brian.
“Me?” Brandon says with an incredulous note and I realize he’s drunk. His eyes are red-rimmed and glassy. They always get like this when he’s had a few. “I wasn’t the one talking an inch away from some strange guy.”
“He’s my friend. I can’t believe you just did that.” I step forward, crouching down to help Brian up without flashing him, or the rest of the bar, that I’m sure are now watching our little exchange.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping him up,” I cut out, but Brandon grasps my forearm tightly, yanking me back up and into him. “Ouch. Let me go. You’re hurting me.”