“Yeah, maybe it’s my youth talking,” I declare dryly while staring back just as intently.
She ‘hmm’s in agreement, her eyes laser-focused on mine for the second time in minutes as I hope, in vain, for once she doesn’t see the naïve, round-eyed kid she met years ago. Or even the boy she started drilling into recently, though I know it’s a lost cause.
“I got you this.” I lift the gift bag.
“Today is not Christmas.”
“I’m aware. Think of it as a thank you ... for helping me.”
She eyes the bag as if it’s shit before a flicker of something crosses her expression. “What is it?”
“Kind of the point of the gift-giving part and the packaging.”
The slight lift of her lips brightens the dismal yellow kitchen bulb lighting the space. She grabs the bag and lifts the tissue paper before pulling the tin and shrink-wrapped movies out.
“Didn’t know if you’d seen them, but since Dom got a DVD player, I thought . . .” I shrug, having no idea where I was going with it.
She frowns at the movies as if figuring out a puzzle, her mouth opening and moving as if she’s about to read aloud before her eyes bulge. “Star Wars?”
“Yeah, these are the first two. They are prequels to the original three movies.”
“Prequels?”
“They take place before Luke and Leia. It’s the story of Darth Vader.”
Her eyes light up with intrigue as she eyes the movies, and I take in her expression as a reward.
“Have you watched?” she asks, taken aback by her gift, which further warms my insides while gutting me. She clearly hasn’t been given much in her life, which becomes more painfully apparent by the way she’s reacting to such a small gesture.
“Yeah, but I’ll watch them with you if you want.”
“Peanut brittle,” she whispers, studying the tin before lifting her spoon-colored eyes to mine. “How did you know?”
“You used to have a tin of it next to your coffee pot. I took a guess.”
“Youguessedwell,” she says softly, her expression just as tender, “it’s my favorite treat.” She cradles the movies and tin to her chest, her whisper sincere. “Merci, Tyler.”
“Welcome,” I say before tossing a thumb over my shoulder. “I’m going to . . .”
She waves a hand in dismissal but gifts me a rare smile as she does this. And fuck how that small reception feels like a big one inside of me. Thankful that went better than I hoped, it’s when I’m a few strides away that I get the inkling to look back at her. For the first time in our time together, I see her curiously staring after me. When her eyes immediately drop, I bite back a smile and continue down the hall, refusing to read anything into it.
At Dom’s bedroom door, a single knock with my knuckles has me opening it to catch a glimpse of Dom... enthusiastically pounding into Ginger. Upon discovery, my presence is acknowledged by her screech when she catches sight of me as a smug grin stretches across Dom’s face. He shields her with his body as I swiftly slam myself back on the other side.
“You fucking idiot,” I scold, keeping my voice low, “you could have told me you were tied up when I texted.”
“We’re saving the rope for next time,” Dom grunts, his words meant for the girl he shamelessly hasn’t stopped driving into. “Aren’t we, baby?”
As of late, and with our collective home lives a wreck, fucking seems to be the most prominent thing on all our minds. Sex that would probably be more of an escape for me if my fantasies weren’t quickly becoming riddled by an off-limits woman twelve years my senior.
“I’ll meet you at the garage. One hour,” I snap, “or I’m leaving.”
My reply is a faint moanfrom Gingerbefore I stalk back down the hall, meeting Delphine at the end of it.
“Might want to spare yourself,” I say, heat creeping up my neck due to the fucked position my brother just put me in. “Dom’s not alone.”
“I’m aware,” she says, moving to push past me.
I lightly clamp her arm to stop her. “Delphine, you really don’t want to go back there right now. They’re not studying for Dom’s next spelling bee.”