Page 47 of Hale
I choke back a sob. My fingers tangle in the front of his T-shirt as I clutch him to me, desperate for the connection with my brother. He doesn’t resist and hugs me the rest of the way to him. With his arm holding me close, I relax for the first time in days. Ugly sobs rip from my chest and he rubs my back as though that might soothe the pain away.
In another life…
He rolls onto his back but maneuvers me so I’m half draped over his solid frame. His scent is dizzying me. Masculine and clean. I could inhale him all day long and get high.
“It’ll be hard sorting through this,” he explains as though he has all of life’s answers. “We can do it together. We’re both stronger than the feelings we’re having.”
Bitterness creeps up inside me. He may have this life’s answers, but I have the other life’s answers. In the other life, we’re best friends and lovers. We can kiss and fuck. We can marry and have children. We can love inthatlife like no siblings can love inthislife. That life holds the happily ever after I’ll never get to see.
“I can’t lose you,” I mutter. “I’ll take you however I can get you.”
He runs his fingers through my tangled hair. “Me too, baby, me too.”
I cry, but he remains strong. Unbreakable. Solid. My brother, the hero.
“Let it all out,” he urges. “And then I’m going to fill you back up with popcorn, peanut M&Ms, and whatever action movie that’s playing at the theater.”
“And an Icee. I want a cherry Icee,” I tell him through my tears.
“I’ll give you whatever you want.”
Except us.
He can’t give me us.
Hudson
Three weeks later…
“Coach was pissed,” Nick says when he comes sauntering out of the bathroom of the hotel room we’re sharing, a towel wrapped around his waist.
I groan and scrub my palm over my face. “I fucked up. Whatever. I’ll do better next weekend.”
He drops his towel, showing me his hairy ass as he hunts for something to wear in his suitcase. Once he throws on some jeans, he levels me with a serious stare. Nick is hardly ever serious. “I think he’ll bench you.”
Irritation bubbles up inside me. “Well, he can fucking bench me then.”
“Or,” he says as he pulls on a T-shirt, “you could get your head out of your ass.”
Leaving me with those words, he walks back into the bathroom to spend far too much time for a man on his hair. I’ve showered but only dressed in sweats after the game. I’m not going out no matter how much Nick pressures me.
The game was a fucking nightmare. I couldn’t catch anything that was slung my way and I couldn’t hit worth a shit. All I could think about was her.
My sister.
Rylie had texted before the game telling me about how some kids from school invited her to a party. She didn’t want to go, but Aunt Becky of all fucking people urged her to get out of the house and socialize.
I lean back against the pillows and read her newest text.
Rylie: Travis is here.
Jealousy flares as I think about the kid from the downtown block party. I didn’t like the way he looked at her. Like he wanted her. She’s not his.
She’s mine.
But she’s not. She can’t be. Having Aunt Becky nearly busting us was enough to scare the shit out of me. I’d lost my head and nearly fucked my sister. My dick twitches at the reminder. Her hand was so soft wrapped around my cock. I still think about her tiny nipple trapped between my teeth when I jack off in the shower. Truth is, I can’t get that night out of my head. I’m trying to be reasonable here and do the right thing. Because we wouldn’t just be social pariahs, we’d be breaking the law.
Fucking Missouri.
