Page 12 of The Older Brother
It’s still early in the morning. There’s no way Cami is awake, but it’s also too early to guarantee my mom has headed to the office. I drift out of the swim club lot and begin weaving around the wealthy neighborhood that surrounds it to kill time. I roll my window down to take advantage of the morning air, which is only a brisk ninety rather than triple digits. It helps that my hair is still wet from my swim, but I know I’m going to start sweating soon.
I dip into the drive-thru for Swig soda shop and order an extra-tall lemon soda with ice while sending up a quick prayer to the AC gods before attempting the refrigeration again. I’m next in line and idling with my palms held out to test the vents as I mutter, “Come on, baby,” to myself until one of the middle vents flickers to life with a slight burst of coolish air.
“I know a guy who can fix that.”
I jump in my seat and clutch my seatbelt against my chest before twisting in my seat to find Rowan leaning into my open window.
“Fucking hell, man!” My heart is pounding so hard I think my vision is pulsing.
Also, Rowan is shirtless. And gleaming with sweat.
“You holding a car wash or something?” I glance over my shoulder, checking to see if he’s left his car parked behind me. He chuckles as he stretches into a stand, and his taut stomach is within reach, and the first thing my eyes find as I turn back to my open window.
“You sound like my father with that joke. Poor Rowan, charity case,” he says, and I instantly recoil.
“Oh, yuck. Don’t say that.” I lean my head against the window’s edge and flit my eyes up at him. It takes him a second or two to drop his gaze to mine, and when his green-blue eyes connect with mine, my insides jolt as if he startled me again.
“I come out here to shoot around a little, at the park,” he says, gesturing toward the tree-lined street across the main thoroughfare.
I glance out my windshield in response to his direction, toward the neighborhood that is much more like mine. Caleb always played pick-up games at the club. I didn’t realize Rowan still played.
“Maybe I’ll come watch a bit,” I say, but Rowan cuts in before the words completely leave my mouth.
“Hey, about the other night . . .”
I blink my gaze back up to him. My heart is pounding again, remembering how Rowan made me feel, his touch, the things he did with only a few fingers.
He breathes out a soft laugh and bites his lower lip, and my lungs inflate with the airy joy of hope. It takes him half a second to collapse them.
“I’m sorry. I was out of line. I should have respected the boundaries?—”
“Boundaries?” I blurt out.
His eyes shift to mine, and his head tilts a hint, his brow furrowed with confusion.
“Saylor.”
He says my name with authority. Like a parent. Or an older brother.
“Rowan.” I dish it right back.
He blinks a few times before chuckling, his hands grasping the edge of my window as he leans back.
“Look, I know you and Caleb just broke things off, and it was wrong of me to take advantage of . . . the situation.”
Of me. Take advantage of me. I want you to take advantage of me.
“Right,” I croak, squinting as the sunlight reflects off the car in front of me as they pull away from the window.
“You’re next. I was just coming to grab a water. I should—” He points a thumb over his shoulder, to the pointless park game he finds more important than this conversation.
“Yeah,” I say, my stomach tight and my mind ping-ponging from frustrated to hurt.
Rowan pats the window edge a few times and utters, “Okay,” before stepping away. He makes it a few steps, though, then turns around and grasps the corner of my window again.
“You’re like my little sister, is all. I mean, I watched you grow up. Hell, I babysat your ass more than a few times. And I shouldn’t . . .” He stammers, and for a tiny moment, I swear his cheeks flush.
“Shouldn’t what?” I challenge him.
