by K. Webster
“Did Amy not want to come with us?” I ask, my eyes on him.
His Aviators hide his eyes, but I can tell he’s tense about the question. “She wasn’t invited.”
“Oh.”
He reaches forward and turns down the music. “I told her I wanted to focus on you. We’ve been through some shit, Ry. I just think we deserve this time to work through things.”
Emotion clogs my throat. All I can do is nod. “Thank you for doing this.”
He flashes me a brilliant smile that makes my heart rate pick up. “We’re going to have fun.”
Happiness blooms inside of me like a sweet-smelling rose. I admire this new bloom as we cruise the road singing along to songs. Two hours pass quickly and soon we’re loading our gear into a raft. I wanted a canoe because they look badass, but Hudson asked me to trust him.
And since I do, I agreed to do the raft instead.
After watching three different couples capsize in their canoes while we cruise on past, I’m glad I listened. Hudson and I have been able to just sit back and enjoy the ride.
“It’s hot today,” I complain, but I refuse to take off my tank top. Now that Hudson has pointed out how skinny he thinks I am, I’m self-conscious to be seen in a swimsuit.
“Here, let me help you cool off.” He smirks before leaning over the side and scooping up cold river water into his hand. I scream when he hurtles a whole handful at me, soaking my shirt. Yanking off my sunglasses, I swipe at the water on my face with the back of my hand.
“Asshole,” I bite out.
He laughs and then sits up before peeling off his T-shirt. I quickly put my sunglasses back on so I don’t get caught appreciating his physique. Baseball has been good to him. He plays third base and his shoulders are broad. His biceps are large and defined. And abs. Hudson has countable abs. Unaware of my staring, he sits up on his knees and uses the paddle to guide us over to a sandy bank. His ass is defined too and his navy-blue trunks hang low enough that I can see a sliver of his ass crack. When we near the beachy area, he climbs out and splashes into the water before dragging the raft with me and all our gear in it onto the beach as if it weighs nothing.
“We can rest here and eat. And swim since you’re so hot,” he teases. He places his hands on his tapered hips and stares downstream. I sneak in a peek at his V. The trail of hair from his belly button that disappears into his trunks is fascinating and beautiful. The outline of is cock is thick and proud in his trunks. It’s not erect, but it’s big.
“Swim first or eat first?” His jaw clenches and I know I’ve been caught staring.
Heat floods through me, making me blush. “Swim.” I definitely need to cool off because I’m pretty sure I’m drooling.
Sick. Sick. Sick. Sick.
He saunters past me, tossing his glasses into the raft, and wades out into the river. Then, he turns and stares back at me, his glittering green eyes on full display. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
To grow boobs and hips and thighs.
“Don’t watch me,” I grumble.
He laughs but turns away. I quickly peel off my tank and shorts, leaving me in a simple orange bikini. I lose my sunglasses too and head his way. With my arms covering as much as I can, I run past him into the icy water. I screech and stop when I’m waist deep.
“It’s too cold!” I cry out. “Why are we here?”
“You have to get your whole body wet. You’ll get used to it.”
“Fuck no,” I argue, but it’s too late. His strong arm sweeps around my waist and he carries me deep. It’s so cold. “Asshole!”
Then he plunges us under the surface. I thrash to the top and sputter out a bunch of curse words. He flicks his head, sending his brown hair whipping back, and he grins at me. Cute and boyish and sweet. Not at all like a person who just tried to drown me.
“Careful,” he warns. “Don’t go out too far. The current is strong.” He grabs my wrist and pulls me until we can both touch the rocky bottom. His other hand grips my waist when I wobble, but he doesn’t let go. Not that I want him to. The heat from his fingers warms me.
“How’s baseball?” I ask, leaning closer to him.
He lets out a heavy sigh. “Coach Brass has given me lots of time to get my head on straight, but I think his patience is wearing thin. I struck out twice last game.” His brows pull into a frown. “Without Mom and Dad coming to the games, I don’t…I just don’t enjoy it much.”
“Mom would be so proud,” I murmur.
His nostrils flare and he looks away. “No, she’d tell me to get my head out of my ass and hit the damn ball.”
We both laugh because it’s true.
“And Dad would say, ‘Now, Lauren, he’s doing the best he can. Give the kid a break.’” Thoughts of my dad trying to calm my mom down flood through me and suddenly nothing is funny. A whine climbs up my throat.
“Shh,” Hudson murmurs as he pulls me against his chest.
He holds me tight as I soak his chest with tears.
“I miss them.”
“Me too.”
His palms rub my back in a comforting way. I’m immediately distracted from my emotions over my parents because my brother’s big, strong hands feel good against my bare skin.
“Come on,” he says, his voice husky. “Let’s get something to eat.”
I follow him out of the water and watch him efficiently lay out a blanket on the sand. Then, he digs around in the ice chest. He tosses me a bottle of water. I down half the bottle before closing it and sitting on the blanket. Lying back, I shield the sun with my arm and close my eyes.
“You need to eat something.” He sits beside me and water from his body drips onto mine.
“Later.”
He taps a grape to my lips. “Nope. Now.”
I accept the grape and find myself wanting another one. One by one, he alternates feeding us grapes. When he’s satisfied we’ve had enough, he gets up and stuffs them back in the ice chest.
“You’re burning.”
Tell me about it.
“I’m fine,” I murmur.
Something cold squirts across my abdomen and I squeal.
He grins at me. “You need sunscreen.” His smile falls as he begins rubbing in the sunscreen on my stomach.
“Hudson…”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
His palm rubs rigorously all over my stomach until he’s smeared it in. Twice his hand sweeps across my lower stomach and I let out a small moan. Thank God he ignores the embarrassing sounds coming from me. He continues his task and squirts more sunscreen out, this time into his hand. My shoulders get attention next. Then my neck. My collarbone.
“Will you do my back too?” I ask, desperate to have him keep touching me.
“Roll over.”
I lie down face first and squeal again when he squirts it on my back. But then his warm, powerful hands are spreading it around my back. His fingers dip along my sides and I shiver.
“This is in the way,” he tells me, his voice low, a near whisper.
He plucks the strings tied at the middle of my back and pulls them away. Then, he rubs me lazily and slowly. I’m sure the sunscreen is more than smeared in, but he doesn’t stop rubbing my back.
“This feels good,” I murmur.
“I know.”
“Want me to put some on you?” I ask.
He runs his fingertips down my spine. “I do.”
“Do you want to fix my swimsuit?”
A pause.
“Yeah.”
He ties it back and when I sit up on my knees to look at him, he has his back to me. I pick up the bottle of sunscreen and pour some into my hands. Running my hands over his muscled shoulders, I take my time rubbing it in. At first, he’s tense, but then he relaxes. We’re silent as I move around to his front. His legs are stretched out in front of him. Boldly, I straddle his thighs, facing him. Neither of us speaks or looks at the other. It’s as if we’re collectively holding our
breaths. I focus on getting the sunscreen on him. His breath hitches when my fingers brush low on his stomach. Between us, I can tell he’s getting hard. I don’t want him to freak out and kill the moment, so I try to distract him.
“What will we do later this week?” I ask, chancing a glance at his face.
His jaw is clenched as his intense green eyes bore into mine. “What do you want to do?”
“I want to see Mom and Dad’s gravesite.”
“Of course,” he rumbles. His eyes drop to my lips and then he looks away. “We should get going. I want to find a better place to camp.”
As if I weigh nothing, he grips my hips and moves me out of his lap. My heart sinks until I notice his erection tenting his trunks that he’s trying desperately to hide from me.
Maybe it’s true.
Maybe he’s sick too.
Hudson
I’m losing my mind.
Quickly.
I feel like somewhere since my parents’ deaths, we crossed a line. We crossed a line that normal brothers and sisters don’t cross. A line we somehow skated over without realizing it.
Fuck.
I don’t know what to do. My mind reels and yet I can’t keep my eyes off her. Each laugh has me held hostage. Each smile I’m caught staring.
“There?” she asks, pointing to where some people are camping.
I’d rather not, but we’re running out of options. It’s getting dark and being on the river at night isn’t safe.
“Hey!” a man with a giant belly and big gray beard calls out. “Y’all can camp here. We don’t bite.”
A woman with an equally big pot belly laughs. “Speak for yourself, Danny.”
Rylie laughs at them and it makes the decision for me. We’ll camp with these old people. I hop out and Danny waddles into the water to help me. Together, we pull the raft on the banks.
“I’m Danny Franklin and this is my wife, Joya.”
“You kids got here just in time. Supper is on the fire,” she says, smiling. She’s missing her front tooth, but she has kind eyes.
“Something hot sure beats the cold sandwiches in our ice chest,” I say with a grin. “I’m Hudson and this is my—”
“Your girlfriend is shy,” Danny interrupts, a wide grin on his face. “I’m like Santa, baby girl. Once you get to know me, you want to sit on my lap.”
Neither Ry nor I correct him.
Joya snorts and slaps his arm. “You’ll scare these kids away. Hudson, ignore him. Sweetheart?”
“Rylie,” she answers. “Thank you for inviting us.”
Rylie comes to stand by my side. She’s nervous. I wrap an arm around her and pull her to me.
“Why don’t you go help Joya and I’ll work on getting our camp set up?”
She nods and follows after Joya over to the fire. Danny winks at me.
“Joya was sixteen when we met. I put three babies in her before she turned twenty-one,” he boasts. “Your girl is young, eh?”
“She’ll be eighteen in April.”
He nods. “I’m not the law. Your secret is safe with me.”
I should tell him she’s my sister, but there’s something forbidden and alluring to pretending she’s not. “Thanks.”
He whistles and chatters as we erect my small tent. It’s meant for one, but Rylie’s small and likes to cuddle anyway.
“I snore,” he warns. “So don’t worry about making noise.” He waggles his brows.
Laughing, I clasp my hand over his shoulder. “We’ll be quiet.”
As the sun disappears completely, the temperature drops. Rylie stands by the fire, shivering as she eats a hot dog. I down mine quickly and locate the blanket from our tent. When I come back, I sit in the sand and motion for Rylie to sit with me. She scurries over to me and sits between my spread legs. I wrap the blanket around us and warm her up.
She turns her head and whispers, “They think we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”
Nuzzling my nose against her hair that smells like sunshine, river water, and sunscreen, I inhale her. “They do.”
“You didn’t correct them.”
“Neither did you.”
My palm slides down her arm and I link my fingers with hers. “It’s none of their business either way.”
“Look at them whispering,” Joya says and slaps Danny’s arm. “Remember when we were young and adorable like that?”
“Now we’re old and adorable,” Danny explains with a chuckle.
I’m content to hold Rylie. I love the way her body shakes when she giggles at their banter. The lines are definitely blurred because for a moment, I delude myself into thinking we’re actually a couple. Right here on the sandy banks of the river, we’re not brother and sister. I’m not in a committed relationship with Amy Kent. We’re just two people. Two people who like to touch.
Danny and Joya jabber on until I find my head nodding. Rylie has fallen asleep. I thank them for the food and then wake her. The air is nippy, so we hurry to our tent. It’s a tight squeeze, but we eventually zip ourselves in and cuddle under the blanket. We’re both sticky and smelly, but it doesn’t stop us from clinging to the other.
“Hudson?”
“Yeah, Ry?”
“Today was fun.” Her palm splays out over my bare chest. “I can’t remember the last time I had fun.”
“Hmm,” I say, smiling. “Your birthday?”
She snorts. “It rained on the barbeque. That was not fun.”
“But the mud fight Dad started was,” I argue.
Her body tenses and I hold her tighter. “It was fun, Ry.”
“It was.” She sniffles. “Christmas was not fun.”
My stomach feels hollow at her words. Christmas was not fun. I was an asshole to her. Mom was fussing over her and I got pissed. There I was, barely back from being away at school, and Rylie was once again making things difficult.
But looking back, I saw the unmasked pain in her eyes. I was too selfish to want to help like Mom and Dad did. All I cared about was myself. And getting between Amy’s legs.
“Why were you so upset that night?” I ask, my voice gruff. She knows which night. The night I ended up yelling at my mom to stop enabling her and stormed off. I spent the night with Amy and didn’t come home until dinner the next day.
She stiffens and lets out a sad sigh. “Because I missed you. When you’re not home, it’s lonely. It’s like you fill the space with life. You were home and then you were making plans to go see Amy. I don’t know how to explain it. I was just upset.”
“I’m here now,” I mutter. “I’m sorry, Rylie. I’m sorry I’ve been an awful brother.”
“You keep telling me that, but, see, I didn’t see it that way. I just wanted to spend time with you.”
The tent is cramped, but I need to comfort her. I roll us until she’s mostly beneath me. My bare leg intertwines with hers beneath the blanket and my palm slides up her stomach over her tank.
“I’m trying to be a better person,” I admit. I brush her hair from her face and touch her lips with my fingertips.
“You were always a better person than me. I worshipped you,” she breathes.
“And now?” My voice is husky.
“I still do.”
“What’s happening to us?” I rest my head on my arm as I pet her hair with my other hand. “Why do I feel so desperate to fix our relationship?”
She turns her head, her hot breath tickling my face. “Because I’m all you have left.”
Leaning forward, I plant a kiss on her cheek. “It’s more than that. I think with Mom and Dad passing, my eyes are finally open to what’s important. All the shit I worried about before doesn’t matter anymore.”
“I’m glad you’re back this week,” she murmurs. “I’ll be sad when you leave.”
I kiss her cheek again. Just a small peck. And then she tilts her head toward me. I can feel her breath so close. I press my lips to hers because it feels right.
“Hudson?”
&nbs
p; “Yeah, Rylie?”
“I’m sick and you’ve caught the sickness too.”
I peck her lips once more before lying back. “I’ll be fine, Ry. Don’t worry about me.”
She curls back against me and whispers against my chest, “I’m worried it’s going to kill me, though.”
“Oh, shit,” I grumble when we pull into the driveway at Aunt Becky’s. “I forgot to make you take your pill.”
Rylie shrugs. “I don’t need it.”
“You do.” I reach behind her seat and dig it out of my backpack. “Here.”
She lets out a huff but steals my Mountain Dew to chase down her pill. “Ahhh. There. Happy?”
I grab her hand and squeeze it. “I just don’t want you to hurt. Those pills help you.”
The tension bleeds from her and she nods. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ve just been under Aunt Becky’s thumb for too long. She makes me feel like I’m in the nuthouse and she’s my evil nurse.”
We both laugh because Aunt Becky is kind of a control freak.
My phone rings and I groan. I’ve been avoiding Amy’s calls. Unfairly so. She’s my girlfriend and I can’t avoid her forever.
“Grab a shower,” I tease. “You stink. I’ll unload all this.”
As soon as she climbs out, I call Amy back.
“Hey, Hudson,” she greets.
“Hey, babe.”
“They’re having a block party at the downtown district tonight. You should come. I’ll be helping Mom run the store, but she’ll let me out early and maybe we can watch the bands or something.”
“Yeah, of course.”
“I’ve missed you. I thought…”
“What?”
“I thought you could come alone,” she murmurs, shame in her voice.
Anger swells up inside me. Of course she should feel ashamed. She’s asking me to leave behind my sister knowing she’s fragile lately.
Amy bursts into tears and speaks before I can answer. “I’m sorry. Gah, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just missing you and want to spend time with you.”