by K. C. Crowne
“Jesus, calm down, Hazel,” I muttered to myself. I hoped it was Boone, but when I looked at the caller ID, I groaned. I almost didn’t answer it but finally decided it would probably better if I did. Bite the bullet and get it over with and all that.
“Hello, Lila,” I said.
“Hazel! Why didn’t you tell anyone you were coming to town?” she said, sounding as superficially cheery as ever on the other end of the line.
“I just got here,” I said. “How did you— Oh wait, let me guess, Rick mentioned it?”
Rick Jenkins worked at the gas station on the outskirts of town. I’d stopped at his station to fill up, he recognized me, and we talked for a couple of minutes, just kind of catching up, before I went on my way. I’d almost forgotten just how quickly news traveled in a town this small when everybody was up in everybody else’s business.
“No, actually Shannon did, but she probably heard from Wilma who works at the station,” Lila said. “You know news spreads like wildfire around here.”
“Yeah, I forgot about that, actually. Tends to happen living in a place like L.A.,” I muttered. “Totally different way of life and doing things out there.”
I turned away from the window and looked around the living room instead. Behind the couch were family photos and some that were just my dad, Boone, and me. Others had our mother. And two had Lila and her mother, my stepmom, Debbie in them. It was crazy how our family had changed over the years.
“Well, I’m hurt you didn’t come to me first. I’d have rather heard the news from you rather than Shannon, of all people,” she said. “We are family, after all, and I looked really silly not knowing my own sister was in town.”
I flinched at the word “sister”. Yes, technically, she was my stepsister, but we were never close. As I grew older, I started to feel sorry for Lila, though. She was annoying and a bit snobby, but ultimately, she had wanted to fit in with us. She just wanted to be part of the family and to feel like my real sister. Knowing that, I did what I could to reconcile my feelings toward her, even inviting her out with the guys and me sometimes. It had never gone well— she got along with Wyatt and Ryder about as well as fire gets along with gasoline. But at least I can say that I tried.
“Tell me, sis, are you thinking of moving back this way?” she asked. “Because if so, I can help you find a deal on a starter home—”
“No thanks,” I said, cutting her off. “Not looking right now, but thanks.”
Lila was a realtor. The premier realtor in the area, apparently. She mainly sold vacation homes to rich people, I assumed. She had to be raking in big commissions on those homes. Otherwise, I wasn’t sure how she could make a decent living since there were so few homes in the area. It wasn’t any of my business, though. I realized, not for the first time, that I knew so very little about her personal life, and part of me wanted to keep it that way.
“Alright then. Hey, I had to try,” Lila laughed. “Anyway, what brings you back to our neck of the woods?”
I knew if I told Lila that Boone was missing, it would eventually get back to my dad. Probably even faster than news that I was back in town had gotten to Lila. I didn’t want him to worry, especially since it was most likely nothing, so I decided to keep it to myself for now.
“Just needed a little time to myself,” I told her.
“Oh, is L.A. wearing you down?” she asked, trying her best to sound like she actually gave a shit. But I knew better.
Truthfully, it had been for a while. There was a lot about Southern California I enjoyed – the nearly perfect weather year-round, the beaches, the food— but there was also a lot that wore thin on me, especially people’s penchant for not giving a shit about anyone but themselves.
“Maybe a little. I had a break, decided I needed some cool, mountain air,” I told her. “So, here I am.”
“How long do you intend to stay?”
“Oh, I don’t know. A few days, maybe a week,” I said. “I have a few weeks off, but I doubt I’ll stay here the entire time.”
“Good,” she replied, her voice clipped. It took me by surprise. She must have noticed her tone, and quickly tried to explain what she’d meant. “I mean, I just worry about you being that close to the Douglas boys and all”
“You do realize they’re not boys anymore, right? They’re grown men.” I laughed.
“Oh, trust me, I know all too well. I see them around sometimes,” she said, and I could hear the disdain in her voice. “I still refuse to talk to them. Please tell me you’ll do the same?”
“I have no intention of seeing or talking to either of them,” I told her. My heart ached as I said those words. “Not after what happened.”
“Thank you, sis,” she said. “I mean it. I’m so glad you believed me.”
“Of course, Lila. How could I not after what you showed me.”
My hand began to tremble as I thought about that night. Clenching my eyes shut, I pushed away any and all memories of what had happened. I couldn’t think of Wyatt and Ryder as friends in any capacity after that. It just wouldn’t be right.
Still, being right next door and so close to two of my former best friends and not talking to them hurt like hell. Especially when I was so worried about Boone. I knew I had to be strong and couldn’t give in to the waves of sentimentality and nostalgia I knew were going to come crashing down over me at some point. I wasn’t there for Wyatt and Ryder; I just had to remember that.
Lila continued talking— mindless gossip and jabbering for the most part— but I didn’t hear a word she said. I’d been too deep in thought about Wyatt and Ryder, but she caught my attention and brought me back to the here and now.
“So, would you like to grab drinks tonight?” she asked with a fake enthusiasm.
“Oh, no,” I said. “I’m sorry. I just want to relax a bit more. Maybe later this week?”
“Sure,” she said, and I could hear her pouting over the phone. Lila never cared for being rejected, but the last thing I wanted to do that evening was go into town and be social, especially with someone I wasn’t really all that fond of to begin with.
“Another time then.”
“Yes, of course.”
We ended the call, and I was relieved almost instantly. I fell onto the couch and closed my eyes, suppressing a scream. I hated my relationship with Ryder and Wyatt had changed. It was a pain that throbbed even after all this time. I not only had that on my head, but I was also worried about my brother. Where the fuck was Boone? It was really starting to worry me. The longer he went without calling me back or turning up at home, the more nervous I got. Christina was calling anyone and everyone she could think of who knew him in Hollywood, while I was stuck in Colorado spinning my wheels and dealing with old ghosts. Boone obviously wasn’t here. Maybe he’d come back and maybe he wouldn’t. Who knew? That uncertainty made me wonder whether I should stay or go back to L.A.
My eyes were growing heavy, and even though it was the middle of the day, I was sleepy. Well, I am on vacation, I told myself. Might as well give myself permission to nap. God knew I needed a little downtime and some rest.
Just like old times, I curled up on the large, oversized couch. I pulled down the throw that hung on the back and wrapped myself in it. I was too tall for it to cover me completely now, but I did my best. The couch was so damn comfortable, even more so than some beds, and I found myself drifting off almost immediately. My mind, however, was still spinning, still drifting back to Wyatt and Ryder. To thoughts of the past and happier times. Thoughts that seemed so fresh again after seeing Wyatt earlier that day.
God, he’d looked so damn good in those jeans. He’d grown a beard, and it suited him well. It was the same dark brown hair as was on his head, was neatly trimmed, and made him look a little more mature. Distinguished. Like a man. What I wouldn’t give to feel that beard against my face. It was a bad thought, but as I started falling asleep, my filters shut off and I didn’t have the ability to censor myself.
I i
magined what it would feel like to kiss him and wondered if Ryder had grown a beard as well. Imagining both men grown up and filled out turned me on like little else had lately. At one time, I’d have given anything to be with either of them— or both, as was a common fantasy of mine.
The idea of being sandwiched between their two hard bodies, their mouths exploring every inch of my own set my heart fluttering and my insides ablaze. Imagining the feel of four hands caressing me at the same time their mouths explored me, stoked the heat building between my thighs. Just thinking about it got my juices flowing again, and without even thinking, I slid a hand down my pants. Circling my clit, I imagined it was Wyatt’s tongue. Then Ryder’s. They’d take turns pleasuring me, while I took the other brother’s cock in my mouth.
Slipping a finger inside me, I moaned into a throw pillow. Then two fingers. Then three. I imagined Wyatt’s cock thrusting in and out of me, as his brother spooned me, taking me from behind. I wanted them both to fill me at the same time. I fucked myself with my fingers, trying to imagine what their dicks would feel like inside me.
It didn’t take long for me to reach the peak, and I cried out as I came, my pussy clenching around my fingers. I was deep in my fantasy, thinking about both men filling me with their cum, all three of us climaxing at the exact same time, and it caused my entire body to tremble in pleasure.
I screamed, no longer muffling my sounds. There was no one around who could hear me. The nearest house - the Douglas’s home - was too far away. No roommate. No brother in the next room. Completely free to be as loud as I wanted to be, and I let it all out.
I cried out their names, begging them to fill me with their cum as I came over and over again. Finally, as the last orgasm came to an end, I collapsed on the couch, feeling both satisfied and hungry for more. My hand was nice, so was the fantasy, but it had been far too long since I’d gotten laid. I wanted the real thing, but not just anyone— I wanted Wyatt and Ryder.
Both of whom I needed to avoid.
I groaned in frustration and threw the pillow across the room. It knocked down Lila’s high school graduation photo. It was unintentional, but it was nice not having her face smiling back at me. Everything about her always seemed so fake. Maybe the story she’d told me was too. I knew it was wrong to doubt someone who confided in you, especially when there was evidence, but there was part of me that wanted to believe she was full of shit. I’d never caught Lila lying before, but she was about as fake as a spray tan, so I wouldn’t put it past her.
I rolled over on the couch, pushing those thoughts away. Maybe I’d talk to the guys later after all. Boone had also told me to stay away from them, just in case. He hadn’t wanted to see me hurt. I appreciated the gesture, but I was a big girl and could take care of myself. Including confronting the brothers and finding out the truth, once and for all.
Ryder
Taking a deep breath, I smiled, relishing the clean, mountain air. I let it fill my lungs before breathing out. After spending so much time in Los Angeles recently, it felt good to breathe fresh air again. My body and my soul needed it, just like it needed the hot cup of coffee I was enjoying out on the back porch.
It was morning, though it wasn’t all that early. I hadn’t seen Wyatt since I left for the store the night before and was beginning to worry. My brother was a morning person, usually. Unlike me. He was always up long before I was. It was just one of those differences between us.
My gaze fell on the old Hudson property, and I thought about the door on the shed. I considered giving Mr. Hudson a call at some point, just to let him know what happened and ask him if he wanted me to replace it.
The sliding glass door opened behind me and I heard my brother’s heavy footsteps on the deck. Wyatt sat down in the chair next to me without a word. I pulled my gaze away from the property in front of us and smiled at my brother, preparing to taunt him for sleeping in so late and being a slacker who burned half the day away in bed. But I saw the look on his face and my words died in my throat. His brow was fixed in a straight line, and his jaw was clenched as tightly as his fists were at his sides. Something was wrong.
Before I could ask him what the problem was, he opened his mouth and spoke words that I was not prepared for, words that hit me like a punch to the gut.
“Hazel’s home,” he said gruffly.
I cocked an eyebrow. “Stop shitting me, man.”
“No, I mean it. I saw someone moving around inside the house and went over to check it out. I thought it was squatters I was going to have to run off. Instead, I ran into her. She wasn’t too pleased to see meh.”
I looked back at the house. The curtains were drawn, but there was the faintest of lights streaming through them. “Don’t fuck with me, Wyatt.”
He looked at me and one look at his face told me he was being truthful. He wouldn’t mess with me about something this serious.
“Scout’s honor, Ryder. I swear to you. Hazel is home. At least for now.”
“Did she say why?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of her even though the curtains were thick and solid.
“She didn’t tell me shit, except to get the hell out of her house,” he said.
“So she still hates us, huh?”
“Yep, and still refuses to tell me why,” he said.
I sighed, putting my coffee down on the table between us. The coffee was suddenly bland and nowhere near strong enough. It needed a healthy shot of whiskey. With news like that dropped into my lap, I was definitely going to need something stronger.
I didn’t say a word. I just continued to stare at the house and absorb the bombshell my brother had just dropped on me. All those years, and we hadn’t heard a peep from her. She just up and left, leaving Boone to tell us that she was upset at us, but never telling us why. It had to do with something that happened at the party the night before she left. Boone had tried to play it off, but I knew it did. Something about that night had changed and damaged our dynamic, but I couldn’t figure out what it was that had pulled Hazel so far away from us. Not for the life of me.
I pushed myself up from the chair and Wyatt followed me.
“Ryder don’t go over there and cause trouble,” he warned, putting a hand on my chest as if to stop me.
“I’m not going over there,” I muttered. “I just need to do something.”
My legs were twitching and my mind was racing. I couldn’t just sit there any longer. My blood was boiling, and I needed to do something to blow off some steam. I had a temper that was lightning fast, which I was working on. It wasn’t Wyatt’s fault that Hazel dropped us like a sack of dog shit, and I didn’t want to take it out on him. I needed to take my feelings out on something, though, and I needed to do it soon before I blew.
Wyatt removed his hand, but his eyes were on me, watching me carefully. I knew better than to go over there. If I went over and talked to Hazel, there’d be a fight. My brother had always been the calmer, more level headed one of us, and if he got screamed at, well, I had no hope of holding a peaceful conversation with her. But still, something had brought her home, and I held onto the smallest flicker of hope that maybe that something would somehow bring us back together.
I went over to a pile of wood in the backyard, picked up my axe, and started chopping. With each swing of the axe, I felt a little better. My muscles were burning as I put everything I had into the movements, letting my rage flow through me, letting it run down the length of my arms and down to the handle of the axe. Wyatt was sitting behind me still, and I felt his eyes boring into my back.
Sweat rolled down my forehead, slicking my face, but I didn’t stop. One piece of wood after the next. We wouldn’t need the wood for many months since winter was a long way off, but it didn’t matter. It gave me something to focus on as well as a way to channel my anger.
A noise pulled my attention from the woodpile: the sound of a door opening and closing on the Hudson property. Before I could stop myself, I looked over the
re, and my eyes locked with Hazel’s.
She stood there, staring at me with wide eyes for a moment. Her hair was a brighter shade of red than I remembered, and longer too. I’d never seen her with hair that long before, and it was stunning. It flowed in the wind, and for a second, she looked like a goddess with her pale, freckled skin and her crown of red, flowing locks. She was wearing a light green sundress that showed off her strong arms and tight body. She’d always had an amazing body, like an athlete’s, taut, toned, and hard. But it was clear she’d taken her workouts up a few notches. She probably had to, in her line of work.
I wanted to call out to her, or at least wave, but I didn’t. I watched as her face shifted from curiosity and maybe even a wistful longing into a look of practiced indifference and hurt. She looked like a woman who’d been scorned. With pursed lips and a furrowed brow, she looked utterly unapproachable. I still had no idea what we’d done to her to deserve such scorn and it pissed me right the fuck off.
She raised her hand, and for a second, I thought she might wave. But she raised her middle finger, pointing it right at me before turning on her heels and marching back inside her house, slamming the door behind her for good measure.
My insides were boiling over again, and the rage was almost too much for me to bear. Rather than march straight over and lay into her, though, I managed to put myself in check. I raised the axe up over my head, bringing it down on the wood, and watched it explode underneath the blow. Once wasn’t enough, however. I did it again— and again— to the same piece of wood, until there was nothing left. Yet I kept bringing my axe down, hitting the ground underneath, until Wyatt’s firm hands grabbed my arm.