Page 13 of Burn Bright
Eliot emerges from his side of the apartment, and his burgeoning, sly grin could light the room on fire.
In a perilous way.
I’ve always run toward a certain kind of danger, but maybe not the hedonistic kind Eliot supplies.
He’s wearing gray sweats that ride low on his sculpted waist. It looks like I might’ve woken him up. He has the brawn of an NHL player, more built than even I am, but he’s never been into sports. He just lifts.
“I’ll be back later,” I tell Eliot, about to make the trek to the door. Maybe I can meet up with Harriet early to grab lunch.
“Later?” Eliot’s leisurely stroll morphs into an urgent sprint. He vaults over the couch to reach me faster and presses a hand to my chest. “You just got here, dear brother.” He levels a look at Charlie, then smiles back at me. “I’ll take that. Merci beaucoup.” He takes my duffel before I can protest and slings the strap on his broad shoulder.
I guess I’m staying.
Until three.
I turn my baseball cap backward right as Eliot squeezes me in a suffocating bear-hug. I swear one time he cracked my rib. I was nine, and I said nothing because I never wanted him to be afraid to hug me. I never wanted him to stop.
He’s number four.
Eliot Alice—he’s pleasure and delight unencumbered, I’ve always believed. He’s almost the same height as me.Almost.He’s six-four like our dad. Really, out of everyone, he looks the most like our father. With perfectly wavy brown hair, a strong jawline fit for modeling, and deep captivating blue eyes.
As we pull back now, I don’t even need to look down to meet those deep blues.
“You’re going to love it here, Ben.” He has a monster grin. “The things we’re going to get up to.”
“I have college,” I remind him.
“After hours.” He points at me. “You’re mine.”
I’m picturing Dionysus scales of debauchery, but the truth is, I don’t know what Eliot does in New York. I’ve never been old enough to spend a day in the life with any of them here, and I can’t lie—itisenticing. To be closer to them.
To be loved by them.
But I don’t ever want to hurt them with my shit.
He scans the living area for more luggage. “Where’s Theodore?” My cockatiel that him and Tom gifted me a while back. I love that bird, and I even convinced the administration at Penn to let me keep him in my dorm. I know my brothers would’ve had even less issues with him here.
“I left him with Audrey. I didn’t want her to feel alone now that I’m gone.”
“I like this. We move to New York; we give you the bird. You move to New York; you give her the bird. You know what we call that?Symmetry.Perfect circles.” He glances around again, then pats the duffel. “This is it?”
I feel Charlie’s mocking head-tilt behind me. I look.Yeah.There it is. He also has his feet kicked up on the glass coffee table, his fingers to his temple. “Is that it, Ben?” Charlie says like an annoying older brother.
“Hecklers,” Eliot banters. “Ignore them, Ben. I always do.”
“You love getting heckled,” Charlie says plainly. “Any avenue for attention, you’ll take.”
He gasps. “Did the heckler just call me an attention whore?” His grin spreads.
“Point made.”
Eliot leans into me and feigns a whisper. “He’s obsessed with me.”
“It is painfully the other way around,” Charlie says.
“Ben can be the judge of that.” Eliot adjusts the strap on his shoulder and gives me a short once-over, as if gauging whether I’m about to bolt. “Seeing as how you’ll be living with us now.Front row seat to the chaos.” His smile is genuine. It draws mine out. “Welcome to the bachelor pad.” He raises and lowers his brows. “Where sins are made and prayers are kept.”
It’s a true bachelor pad in the fact that all my brothers are single and in their twenties.
