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Eric
I drive home, angry.
Angry at myself for slipping out while she slept so peacefully.
Angry for even hooking up with her at all.
What was I thinking?
Carter said I was stupid and immature. To merely tell her how I felt. Well, I did. And she told me she loves me too.
So... what’s the problem?
The problem is that I’m going to taint her. She needs a good man, not me and I had no right to indulge.
I was selfish to go to the Mile High Rooms last night, just to get a taste of her. And before I could tell her it was me, she somehow already knew, and then left. So, I chased her.
But honestly... how long did I think I could keep up the ruse and her not figure it out? Even in the pitch black, she knows every inch of my body, every smell, every curve of my face, of my intimate parts... like I know hers. There’s no hiding yourself when that person knows you so well.
She said she loves me. I shouldn’t be so closed off. I need to give her a chance, but I need time to think. Last night was a whirlwind of emotions. We fucked, she left. I chased her down and we came together, a wonderful, perfect night of love and catching up.
And then I bolted.
I scrub a hand along the back of my neck, and then rake my fingers through my hair. I punch the steering wheel. “Argh!”
I shake my head as I drive toward home. My phone buzzes, and at a stoplight, I look at it.
Christa: Whatever I did, or didn’t do, I’m sorry.
The fuck?
She thinks she did something wrong?
Of course she does, you idiot! my subconscious screams at me.
I throw the phone down and stew in my guilty thoughts until I get home.
***
“You really are a fucking idiot. What’s your problem?” Carter shakes his head and opens the fridge, then throws a protein shake at me. “Maybe your brain needs more protein.”
I catch it and crack it open as I sit at a barstool in his kitchen. We finished playing tennis at the country club and I asked to come back to their house so I wouldn’t have to wallow in my misery alone.
“If you break her heart again, I’m going to seriously hurt you,” Taryn says, coming out of the bathroom. “Damn, I’m sick of peeing every thirty minutes.”
“TMI,” I mutter, taking a big swig of the thick chocolate shake.
“You have no idea,” Carter murmurs, drinking his.
Taryn grabs a bowl of cut up fruit from the fridge, throws the plastic wrap covering away, and plops down next to me. “I’m just confused about this whole thing. Why aren’t you with her? Why did you leave her this morning?”
I’d already told them both about the entire interaction.
“Because.” I rake a hand through my hair. “Because... I don’t fucking know!”
She places a hand on my arm. “Because you’re scared, that’s why. Listen, brother. I told her to stay away from you. Over a year ago when you got out, I told her, ‘Leave my brother alone, he needs to find a way in this world, get back on his feet. Don’t distract him with sex or a relationship.’ Did she listen? No.”
“I’m glad she didn’t,” I say honestly. “She was what I needed at the time. And I still do. I think I’ve messed things up beyond repair.”
“Judging by that text she sent, she’s the one who thinks she messed things up, and that’s not cool, man.” Carter shakes his head and picks up his phone, tapping buttons for whatever he’s looking at. Probably the damn stock market.
“I don’t want her to think she did anything wrong,” I confess, taking another swig of the protein shake.
“Then go to her. You’re making this more complicated than it has to be. She loves you, Er. I swear it. She’s been miserable since you went to Africa. Like, her personality changed. I thought she’d snap out of it, that maybe what you two had was just a fling and she’d move on. But she won’t talk about it with me. She hasn’t, and she won’t, which is why I put my full support behind this relationship of yours.”
“I thought you females talked about everything together,” I comment dryly.
She shakes her head. “Not this. I’m sure if you weren’t my brother I’d get the full scoop, all the dirty details, but she knows I don’t want to hear those.” She makes a gagging noise, and I laugh at her.
“Now you know why I’m grateful my best friend didn’t spill his dirty details.” I glance at Carter, who’s still looking at his phone, but he wears a smirk because he really is listening. I make a gag noise.
Her growing belly is reminder enough of what they’ve been up to behind closed doors.
Gross.
“Give me your phone,” Taryn demands, her tiny hand out to me.
“No. Hell no.” I put my hand over my shorts pocket as if she could grab it.
“No, seriously. Let me draft a text you need to send to her, before you lose her altogether. I’m shocked I don’t have my own text from her about what a fucking bastard you are.”
I narrow my eyes at her, then down at her belly. “Don’t cuss in front of my nephew.”
Carter snorts. “I’m fairly sure that kid’s first word is gonna be ‘fuck.’”
I laugh because I can’t help it. “To answer you, no. I’ll text her myself. You’ll make it sound too chick-ish, and she’ll know.”
She laughs. “You’re probably right. But if you don’t text her before you leave here, I’ll do it myself. I can hack into your phone, you know.”
Shit, she can.
My eyes widen. “You wouldn’t.”
My sister giggles, then pops a piece of watermelon into her mouth. She looks at Carter. “What’s for dinner?”
I stare at her, incredulous. “Do you ever stop eating?”
“Ohhhh, shit,” Carter says, setting his phone down and glaring at me.
I hop off the stool and toss the empty protein shake into the trash before she can slap me, jogging into their backyard to help myself to the swimming pool Taryn made Carter install. And I’m glad she did.
I kick out of my sneakers, whip off my shirt, toss my phone, keys, and wallet onto the table, and dive into the deep end for some laps. The water is freezing since it’s February, but I don’t care. I’m still hot from the tennis and my arms need the exercise.
After a few laps, I get out, dry myself off with a towel from the cabinet, and put my shirt back on. I check my phone. No more texts from Taryn, but I do have one from an unknown number.
Unknown: Hey
Curiously, I reply.
Me: Who’s this?
Unknown: Mariana from work.
Me: How did you get my number?
It’s rude but I don’t care. I’m pissed she has the audacity to somehow sneak around to get my number—because the hospital wouldn’t have handed it out—and then text me like we’re friends.
Unknown: I have my ways ;)
Ugh.
I begrudgingly store her contact as Mari-ho so I can avoid the texts in the future without wondering who it is.
I don’t respond, instead head inside where Carter is cooking and Taryn is yapping as usual.
She looks over lazily at me and says, “Did you decide what you’re going to say to Christa yet? Time’s running out.” She points to her fitness watch. “And dinner’s almost ready.”
I glare at her. “No, I haven’t.”
“Tick tock,” she says in a sing-song voice.
Then, she looks down at her phone. “Oh, surprise, surprise, she’s texting me, calling you all kinds of names.”
I try to snatch the phone but she pulls it away too fast. “Uh-uh-uh, big brother. I’m not fixing this for you.”
“Yes,” she says, typing with her thumbs, “he is a big jerk. I’m sorry he dined and dashed,” she says as she continues to type.
Carter snorts and then starts laughing.
I bite back a smile. “I did not dine and dash! Also, that’s gross, knock it off. Real mature.”
She ignores me and keeps typing and talking. “I know, girl. I’ll kick his ass for you. I hope you at least got yours!” She makes a gag noise again.
I lift my chin. “She did. Many times over.”
Carter groans. “That’s enough phone time for you.” He tries to snatch the phone, but she again whips it out of his way.
She continues typing as she gets up and waddles toward the hallway, presumably to go to the bathroom or maybe her bedroom to continue shit-talking me.
“You look like a duck when you walk!” I call out, teasing.
She flips me the bird behind her head and then goes back to thumb-typing.
I laugh.
Carter plates up grilled chicken, asparagus, and red potatoes, and slides a plate to me before yanking off the towel hanging over his shoulder and wiping his hands.
He silently fixes a second plate, and places it where Taryn was sitting, then makes himself one. He sits at the other end of the bar and looks up at me. “I assume you know your sister well enough to know she’s not going to let up until you fix this shit with Christa, right?”
I nod. “Oh, believe me, I do.”
“Good, because if you don’t, and I have to listen to her endless drivel about it, let’s just say shit rolls downhill and I’ll be taking out my frustrations on you.”
I raise a challenging brow, a bite paused at my lips. “Is that so?”
He chuckles. “Oh, yeah. Boxing ring, tennis court, golf course, I’ll figure out a way.”
I snort. “Okay, bro.”
Carter drops his fork, loud and dramatic, and I look up. “I’m serious, you fucker. Fix it. Christa deserves better than you, but if she wants you, then you need to make it right. Worship her. All chicks want is for you to pay attention to them and take care of them. Give them what they need. If you don’t know what is, fucking figure it out.”
I swallow down a smile. He seems genuinely pissed, and that makes me secretly happy. He really does care about her—both my sister and him. I also know he’s right.
“Goddamn, this is delicious,” I say honestly.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Kiss ass.”
“No, I’m serious. It’s good. I need the recipe.”
“What are we, chicks? Google it,” he says.
“Why are you so grumpy?” I ask.
He gives me a wry smile. “Pregnancy hormones. She’s wearing me out, if you know what I mean. I need my sleep.”
It’s my turn to drop the fork. I make a face. “Ew, TMI.”
He shrugs and goes back to eating. “You fucking asked.”
“Touche.”
On the drive back to my place, I decide they’re right... I suck and need to do better. Instead of a text, I decide to call Christa.
It rings five times.
“What?” she snaps for an answer.
I purse my lips. Ooh, she’s pissed.
“Come over. Please,” I beg. “Or I can come to you.”
She pauses for so long that I wonder if we’re still connected. I hear her breathing—likely fuming—but I wait, putting on my blinker to get onto the freeway.
“Come to me and bring food.” Then, she hangs up.
That, I can do.