Page 8 of Pitcher

My stomach cramps remembering my brother coming home pale and quiet. I thought the fucker had been roofied.

“It wasn’t an asthma attack,” he argues, taking a healthy gulp of his beer. “She had an allergic reaction to my bodywash.”

Anniston doubles over, heaving and snorting like a tiny pig. I’m grinning seeing her smile. I chance a look at Thad who’s looking at her with the same relieved expression I am.

What the fuck?

My smile wanes as I watch him pull her close and tickle her, claiming she is being mean for bringing up that horrific memory.

Jealousy mixes with the alcohol in my stomach, and I refrain from snatching her from his arms. Everything about Thad holding Anniston pisses me off. Maybe it’s because we are identical twins. Staring at him holding my best friend of years is like looking in the mirror. I can see the image, but I can’t reach out and touch it. It’s a reflection of everything I’ve craved from her since I hit puberty.

I found her first.

She’s mine. Not Thad’s.

So I do what I do best.

I act like an asshole.

“You showed her though.” I hold my fist out for a bump he doesn’t return. He knows what’s about to come out of my mouth. “Her friend sure lapped up that cheap bodywash without a problem the following weekend.”

Anniston sobers and pulls back to look at Thad.

“No, you didn’t?”

Yes, he fucking did.

Thad drops his head and sighs. “It was a rough year. I was going through a few things.”

Yeah, like being in love with my girl. It’s no secret between us. I knew the minute Thad saw her, he wanted her. He tried playing the sweet brother, but what he didn’t know is Anniston enjoyed the company of sin, aka me.

Before his embarrassing blow job story, he pined after Anniston, always texting her, always asking her to do shit with him.

I had to step in.

So Thad and I made a deal—neither of us could have her. We would be her friends. Her protectors.

Until now.

Until I found her on the floor in the bathroom.

“Poor Ashley.” Anniston sighs. “I’m sure she was embarrassed too.”

She wasn’t. Two weeks later, after finding out about Thad and her friend, we discovered Ashley wasn’t allergic tomybodywash. Bitterness is always a good fuck.

“It was a terrible thing to do,” Thad explains. “I was a dick.”

And horny.

And in love with a girl he couldn’t have.

Love sucks like that.

Anniston grows silent and chugs the rest of her beer. “I think I’ll go to bed. We need to get on the road early tomorrow.”

To our new apartment.

Her gaze finds mine underneath a wayward lock of hair. “Stay with me?”

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