Page 3 of The Older Brother
“Nothing,” he says through the devil’s smirk.
I blush. I feel the heat on my cheeks. Laughing softly, I turn my head to my right and catch Caleb’s stare. He’s still gluedto his current fascination, but he’s finally spotted me doing something he doesn’t like. And I like that.
Rowan and Caleb love one another, but they hate each other, too. Their love stems from obligation and familial contracts. Some of it is from good memories, probably, like when Caleb was young and Rowan got to play the part of big brother he looked up to. But the years of living in this house have worn most of that away, and now, the resentment that exists between the two of them is thick enough to taste. And it’s bitter, almost rancid.
“My mom says I can’t have cake until they give their speeches,” I say, moving my eyes back to Rowan.
His face tics with a short, silent laugh.
“I’ll get you cake,” he says, leaving his beer on the deck beside the lounge chair and marching across the manicured lawn.
I rest my cheek on my forearm as I watch him walk inside a house that hasn’t been hospitable to him for years, as if he’s the boss. When I spot him pull a knife from one of the drawers, I chuckle and lift myself out of the pool. I grab the large white towel draped on the back of Rowan’s lounge chair and wrap my body in it before sitting on the end and folding my legs up.
Rowan snags my shoes and shorts on his way back to the chair, then drops them to the side before handing me a plate with a heavily frosted triangle of cake. I was right about the vanilla, but there’s a vein of raspberry running through the fluffy white that I hope is intentional. I love raspberries, and I’d like to think my mom made that special request just for me.
“Thank you,” I say, sliding the fork through the tip and taking a bite. The frosting is rich, but melts on my tongue as the soft pillow of cake dissipates in my mouth. It’s sweet, but the tartness of the raspberry cuts it perfectly. I chew with my mouth closed in a grin and look up at Rowan’s expectant expression.
“Well?”
“Mmmm,” I moan, digging in for a second bite as he chuckles.
“Good. It’s your party too, damn it, and if you want cake, you should get cake,” he says, flopping back into the chair, crossing his legs behind me as he leans into the angled back.
I do my best to savor the flavors, but it’s hard not to glance Caleb’s way, especially as he’s now dancing in front of a swooning Neveah. He doesn’t look like a fool, though I wish he did. He’s confident, and the way he knows all the words to the song he just turned up makes him rather magnetic. Even my wing-woman Cami is smiling and clapping along as she sits on her ex’s shoulders in the pool.
“He’s doing this to get at you, you know,” Rowan says. I swivel my head, but not all the way.
“I doubt that. I think all Caleb thinks about is what makes Caleb happy.” I feel a twinge of guilt for calling him out, especially since I spent most of my life defending his narcissism.
“That’s true. But it makes him happy to see you unhappy. He gets that from our dad.”
I turn the rest of the way to meet Rowan’s eyes, and he shrugs, then lifts his beer from the ground. His eyes stay on me as he takes a drink, and the attention feels like too much for the first time tonight.
I blink away, glancing back at Caleb. He catches me looking just as he lifts his head from kissing the top of Neveah’s head. He kissed me like that two weeks ago, and damn it, I swooned. I feel so stupid.
“Hey, we should start the movie!” Caleb announces, moving his gaze from me, then scanning the crowd clustered in and around the pool.
A few people whistle and cheer, so Caleb straightens the blow-up screen that’s been parked near the deep end of the pool since I got here. He nods to someone behind me, and I crane myneck to catch a glimpse of his father as he switches on a projector and turns up the sound on the tower speakers they’ve set up on both sides of the pool. He heads back inside seconds later, where my mom and two of his clients are waiting for him.
The roar of cars racing drowns out most of the chatter, and soon, my now former classmates are all piled into lounge chairs or rafts in the pool as the latest Fast and Furious movie lights up the dark desert yard. Caleb moves back to the chair with Neveah, sliding his body behind her and wrapping his arms around her body. I can’t see much in the dark, but every few seconds the screen lights up enough to show off the way he’s nibbling at her neck. I’m in the back, where nobody can see me, yet I feel that everyone is looking.
“I’m full,” I say, turning to hand my plate to Rowan.
He takes it in his hand but holds it still between us as his eyes lock on mine. His gaze drifts over my shoulder and lingers on the scene his brother is making for a full breath, maybe two, before he sets the plate on the ground, then shifts his legs to make space for me to sit between them.
“Come here.”
He pats the tan cushion between his knees, and I blink a few times. I’m overcome with hesitation, but the pre-teen who dreamt this very moment so many times is screaming at me from deep inside to get over myself.
“It’s more comfortable, Saylor.” Rowan’s head falls to the side, his eyes dimming and seeming to express the annoyance I’m more accustomed to from him over the years.
“I’m still wet.”
His lip twitches, stretching his smirk, the second those words leave my lips, and I gasp and immediately bury my face in the corners of the towel.
“From the pool!” I whisper-shout.
A tugging sensation on the towel accompanies his soft chuckle as he pulls it away from my face.
