He waited until I was almost clear of the door to move. Instead of shying away as I'd been expecting, his arms bracketed the doorframe around me, holding me in place. "I took a cab here since I was drinking. My jeep's parked at Fred's." He pulled me closer.
"I need a shower," I said, trying not to think about how good his arms felt wrapped around me the night before.
"You shouldn't go out running by yourself."
I bristled at his words. "I'm quite capable of taking care of myself. I'm sure you caught on to that last night." My words trailed off as an image from the night before filled my head. We didn't need the reminder of the ultimate betrayal.
"I know you are, but it still doesn't mean it's safe," he said, dropping his hands from the doorframe to my waist.
I tensed. "Brian, we can't," I said, looking at his chest so I wouldn't have to look up.
"Can't what?" he asked, tugging me closer.
I sighed, wedging my hands up to his chest so I could put some kind of distance between us. "This. We can't do this. Don't you see how wrong it is?"
His right hand left my side, coming up to my chin so I was forced to look at him. "Kat, how can something that feels so right be wrong?" His voice was husky and low. My bones abandoned their posts, making me sway as they swooned at his tone. Even my hands couldn't seem to control themselves from running across his chest. Traitors.
"It doesn't feel right. It feels horribly wrong."
His eyes turned mocking. "I'm crushed. Is that your way of telling me you didn't like last night?"
My hands stilled and defeat surged through me. I sagged in his arms, unable to find the will to list the many reasons why last night had been a mistake. I leaned forward and rested my forehead against his chest. It was wrong to use him for comfort when I really needed to be doing the opposite. I should be pushing him away, distancing myself. His arms came up, pulling me into his embrace until I was flush against his body. I laid my cheek against his chest, feeling his heart thud.
How long we stood in my doorway like that I didn't know. Neither of us spoke as we held on to each other. The hug was not sexual in any way, but it touched me on another level of intimacy. A level that was both frightening and new. I'd loved Dan with all my heart, but I couldn't ever recall a time when he'd held me for the simple sake of holding me. It was an unfair observation, but every thought and action of mine over the last twenty-four hours had been unfair. I might as well have stayed consistent.
"I need to shower," I said, becoming aware that my sweaty clothes had started to dry. "I must smell awful," I added, flushing as I tried to pull away.
Laughter rumbled up through his chest beneath my cheek. "Trust me, I've smelled way worse. Try being in a locker room with fifty guys after a game. Your nose will never be the same again.
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" I asked.
"No. I'm being honest. My sense of smell boycotted years ago." He dropped his arms so I could finally step into my apartment. Looking around, I could see he'd been busy while I was gone. My mess from my pity party had been cleared away, along with the week's worth of trash that had been spread out across my counter.
"You cleaned?"
"I was bored." He closed my front door and leaned against the counter.
"You didn't have to wait for me to return," I said, picking up my phone that was now charging on the table near my couch. I cringed when I saw all the missed calls and messages. It was a bucket of reality tossed over my head. I didn't need to click on the messages to get an idea of how I'd hurt him. "Sorry about this," I added, placing my phone back on the table.
He shrugged but didn't comment.
"I guess I'll take my shower," I said, heading toward my bathroom before he could answer. I wondered if he'd be gone when I came out. I hoped so. One of us had to make the break.
I stayed in the shower until the hot water ran out. I knew I was taking the chicken's way out. Hiding out until he got sick of waiting for me. It was an immature move, but I was already stacking up immaturity points, I might as well have added more to the tally.
Only when the water started to turn to the equivalent of ice water did I twist the nozzle and step out. Wrapping a towel around me, I stepped out of the bathroom into my room. I shouldn't have been surprised to see him sitting on the edge of my bed. Deep down I'd known he'd still be there. Nothing was resolved. We'd made a colossal mistake, and yet here we were. He stood up, watching me. His eyes moved intimately across my barely covered body. The heat from last night flared back up. I stepped toward him, releasing my grip on my towel. It fluttered to floor at my feet. His eyes remained on mine as he pulled me to him. Yep, I was going to hell, but I couldn't seem to find the will to care.
***
"We can't keep doing this," I said sometime later, still wrapped in his arms.
"Why? I think we're quite good at it," Brian said, trailing his fingers over my bare hip.
"Aren't you afraid of what people will say?" I asked, twisting around on the bed so I could face him.
He tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear before answering. "Like who? What we do is our business. It's the best thing about being an adult."
I trailed a finger across the contours of muscles on his chest. "Your parents will hate me."
"Why would they hate you?" He leaned closer and ran his tongue lightly up my neck toward my ear.
"Dan."
His mouth left my skin as he pulled back. "I'm not Dan," he stated.
I looked at him in surprise. Did he really think I'd called him by his brother's name? "I know you're not. You asked why your parents will hate me. They'll hate me because I betrayed your brother. We betrayed your brother."
His sudden flare of anger left his eyes as he sighed. "Kat, Dan has been dead for two years now. We all miss him and we're always going to feel his absence, but do you really think Dan or my parents expected you to pine after him forever? People move on. Life moves on. My parents want you to be happy."
"But you're his brother," I retorted, wondering if he was deliberately being dense.
"You don't think I know that?" He rubbed a hand over his head, clearly frustrated. "I like you, Kat. I like being with you. You're smart, funny, and tough as nails, but soft when you need to be, like now." He stroked a large palm down my spine before settling it back on my hip. "I like being in this bed with you. I like the way your breath hitches when I touch you here." He glided his palm up to my breast. "I want to be with you. Do you want to be with me?"
His words tumbled through my head. He made it all seem so easy. Hidden behind my bedroom wall away from criticizing eyes and comments, it was easy. But what would happen when we left my apartment? I disagreed with him that his family would be as forgiving as he thought.
"Kat," he coaxed when I hadn't answered his question.
"I'm scared of getting hurt again, but more importantly I'm terrified of hurting you," I answered with more honesty than I intended. I should hate him for getting me to admit things I didn't want anyone else to know. That was the problem with the whole situation. I'd allowed him in and now I didn't know how to get him back out. I wasn't even sure I wanted to.
"Kat, you're not going to hurt me." His fingers closed around mine, bringing my palm up to his lips.
"Liar," I said, watching his mouth move across my palm. "I hurt you yesterday."
His lips paused. "That was something else." He resumed his perusal of my palm.
"No, it wasn't. I hurt you. I was selfish. Don't you see why this isn't going to work? I'm a selfish person and you're..." My words trailed off as he slid one of my fingers into his mouth.
"I'm what?" he asked once his mouth released my finger.
"Not selfish," I answered breathlessly as his lips found the sensitive skin of my wrist.
He chuckled darkly. "Sweet, naive Kat. Don't you see? I'm the most selfish person there is. I wanted you, so I made you mine. I've been laying the groundwork for this for months."
"Liar," I said
, calling him out for the second time.
"You doubt my claim?" he asked, nibbling on my wrist before moving up to the bend in my arm.
I nodded, though his lips were doing a pretty good job of distracting me. I realized that had probably been the plan from the beginning.
He tugged me closer until our bodies were pressed against each other. "Kat, I knew the moment I saw you in the bar that I wanted you. I wanted to wipe away the haunted look in your eyes and smooth out the crease of grief between your brows," he whispered in my ear, making the small hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end. "I wanted to be the reason you started living again." His mouth moved from my ear to my lips, swallowing any reply I might have had.
I could have told him I didn't need to be saved. I could have reminded him I was strong. More importantly, I could have confessed that my grief had morphed to guilt a long time ago. I said none of this though, because he was right about one thing. He was the reason I'd started to live again. I would probably regret it. I was sure I would get a second chance, and this time when the world came tumbling down on me it would crush me for good.
Fourteen
"We need sustenance," Brian said, pulling the blankets off me later that afternoon. My room was bright with the midday sunlight shining through my bedroom window. He was trying to kill me.
"There's food in my kitchen," I replied, dragging my pillow over my face to block out the sun. "I have blackout curtains for a reason."
"You don't have food. You have coffee and a bag of moldy cheese." He tugged at the pillow covering my face, but I held it fast.
"Scrape the green stuff off; the cheese beneath it is still good."
"Not a chance." He gave the pillow another tug, pulling it from my face. "I want real food."
I squinted in the sun, waiting for my eyes to adjust. "Order a pizza," I said, noticing he was already dressed. My own nakedness felt awkward. I wanted to ask him to give me a minute alone so I could get dressed, but the appropriate words refused to come.
"Nope. I want to go out."
"Then go."
He sat on the bed, making it bounce. "I want to go out with you."
I shook my head climbing from my bed with my sheet still clutched to my chest. I skirted around him to my dresser and pulled out a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt. I avoided his eyes as I got dressed, trying to ignore the awkwardness of the moment. It was one thing to be naked in my bed, but it was a whole other to stand in the middle of my room buck naked. In the movies, clothes seemed to magically appear on the characters after sleeping together. Obviously, cinema magic had failed me.
"You know I've seen you naked, right?" he asked with amusement once I let the sheet fall to the floor.
I glared at him as he laughed. He climbed from the bed and stopped in front of me. The difference in our heights was obvious as we stood toe to toe.
"You're cute when you're pretending to be mad," he said, tugging me close and dropping his lips to mine.
"Who says I'm pretending," I scolded, though the slight curve in my lips gave me away. I looped my arms around his neck, dragging his mouth back to mine. My tongue was first to make a move as it slid along the seam of his lips, seeking entrance.
"Food," he ordered, seeing through my ploy.
"Pizza," I countered, running my tongue along his jawline in an attempt to distract him.
"Kat, we can't stay holed up in your apartment."
I sighed, dropping my arms. "Why not? My apartment is nice," I lied.
He snickered. "Whatever helps you sleep at night. I want to go out with you. Please," he begged.
I narrowed my eyes. He knew my weaknesses as well as I knew his. "Fine, but it has to be around here."
"Done. Get dressed," he said, sauntering out of my room.
I'd been played. Brian definitely thought he had the upper hand. Two could play that game.
***
"Do you need more water?" I asked, holding up my own water glass and trying not to laugh at the tears in Brian's eyes.
He gulped audibly, setting his own glass down and reaching for mine. I watched with amusement as he downed the contents in one swallow.
"I did tell you it was spicy," I reminded him, dunking my own chip in the salsa.
"Spicy?" He shoved several salsa-free chips into his mouth. "That's not spicy. That's liquid fire in a fucking bowl."
A chuckle bubbled up through my throat, turning into a laugh as he glared at the black bowl of salsa situated on the table between us. I'd warned him ahead of time about the spiciness. I couldn't help he took the bait. It was like taking candy from a baby.
"You're evil."
I nodded in agreement. Growing up, everyone assumed Jessica was the prankster of our group, but they didn't know I'd been the one feeding her ideas all along. "And you're just now picking up on that?" I teased.
He sat back in his chair and studied me. "No, I've known for a long time."
"No, you haven't."
He raised his eyebrows. "The frog incident."
A slow smile spread across my lips. I'd forgotten about the frog incident.
2007
"Kat, what are you doing?" a voice whispered behind me, making me jump.
I whirled around, hiding the green squirming object behind my back. "Nothing," I answered, peering up in the dark at Brian, who just a year ago had been shorter than me. He was now almost a foot taller and as tall as Dan. He was still adjusting to his growth spurt and was gangly and clumsy. Glancing at him, I hoped he didn't trip over something and give me away.
"You can go back to bed. I was just grabbing a bottle of water," I said, nodding toward the row of coolers sitting on the picnic table.
"Is your frog thirsty?" he asked with false innocence.
"Shhhh," I hissed, holding a finger on my free hand up to my lips.
"You know Dan would freak out if he saw you holding a frog. He doesn't like frogs."
"Really?" I asked.
"Matter fact, he'd probably die if one showed up in his tent."
"I bet. That would probably be wrong."
"I don't know. Is it any more wrong than pushing a girl into the pond?" he asked with a glint in his eyes.
"Definitely not more wrong than that," I whispered, nodding for emphasis. "Do you want to help me?"
"Heck yeah. I'm still mad at him for ruining the new John Madden game. Here, hand it to me," Brian whispered, reaching for the squirming frog.
I handed the frog over and unzipped the small tent Dan was sharing with Zach. Brian shoved the frog into the tent and then hurried to zip it back up.
We crept away from the boys' tent, stopping at the spigot of the campground to wash our hands.
"You know Dan only pushed you in the water because he likes you," Brian said, handing me the soap.
Heat crept up my neck, covering my face. I was glad it was dark outside. "No, he doesn't," I said, blushing even more.
"I thought Dan was going to crap himself when he woke up with that frog sitting on his chest." Brian shook with laughter, gaining the attention of other diners.
My own giggles joined his as we both recalled Dan tearing out of his tent that next morning as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. "I never thanked you for your help with that. He never guessed either of us were responsible."
"He locked his tent after that, remember?"
I nodded my head as the flood of memories tumbled in. We had a lot of camping trips growing up. Our families had done everything together. Trips, birthdays, promotions, holidays—we shared them all. Everything we did was better because we got to share it. There was a time I thought it would be that way forever. I imagined weddings, births of our own children, and celebrations of more milestones would be on the horizon. It'd been two years since we'd done anything together. The funeral. That was the last time all of us were together, and really even then I was the only one who was there. Before that it was graduation night and the dinner we'd all shared. It felt like a lifetime ago.
/>
Brian reached across the table and grabbed my hand, lacing our hands together. "Do you want to leave?" he asked, leaning over the table and stroking the thumb of his free hand beneath my eye. I looked at the tear glistening on the pad of his thumb. I wasn't even aware I'd been crying. I moved my fingers to my eyes, feeling the moisture for myself. So, I was capable of tears. Oddly, I didn't feel all that sad. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what I was feeling, but it wasn't the sharp edges of pain I was so used to.
"Kat," Brian asked, looking concerned. He scanned the restaurant in search of our waitress.
"It's okay. We don't need to leave," I said, picking up my napkin and dabbing it at my eyes.
"I shouldn't have brought up the frog. I know you hate talking about the past."
"No, I'm glad you did. I'd forgotten about that. It's a good memory," I said, meaning it. "I guess maybe it's time I start letting more of those in. My brain has been so stuck on the bad ones it can't seem to find a way past them. Really, I'm glad you brought up the frog. You were right that night."
"About what?" he asked, still leaning in.
"About Dan liking me. Do you remember telling me that?"
He nodded. "Dumbest thing I've ever done. I regretted it for a long time."
"What? Why?" I asked.
He shrugged, plopping another chip into his mouth. "I don't know. I guess I thought I made you aware of something I'd rather you didn't know. I guess I was hoping my declaration that night would have had a different result."
"What are you talking about?" I asked as our waitress set our steaming plates on the table.
He picked up his fork and took a hefty bite of his food before answering. "You really don't know?"
I shook my head.
"I told you Dan liked you because I was trying to get your reaction on how you felt about him. I was hoping that the idea of my brother liking you would have been appalling because you already liked someone else."
Understanding began to dawn. "Who?" I asked, setting my fork down without taking a bite.