Page 25 of The Older Brother
Caleb saunters into the garage as I move to stand by the passenger door, maintaining a full ton of metal between us. It’s bad enough having to endure his glare.
“You had to bring your car back already, huh? Hope this guy gave you a warranty on his work.” Caleb’s tone is obvious, but if he wants to go at this with lies, fine. I’ll play along.
“Actually, his work was so good I thought I’d have him do some more,” I say, letting the double meaning float in the air between the three of us.
Rowan coughs out a hard laugh, but Caleb’s reproachful glare only narrows on me.
“You know what, though? Another time, maybe. It looks like you two need some alone time, so I’m gonna . . .” I turn my back to them and march to the workbench where I left my crossbodythen snag the keys out of Rowan’s hand as he dangles them out for me to take.
I open the driver’s side door and slip inside, holding my breath the entire time. The stale air burns my lungs until I crank the engine and allow myself to exhale as my gaze flits to Rowan, whose lips are raw from pleasing me. My neck warms and I can feel the blush creeping up, so I back away from the shop—and the Anderson brothers—before I start to tear up from embarrassment.
It's not so much that I care about being caught, orpotentiallycaught, in an intimate moment. It’s the layers of the situation—that it’s Caleb, and that it was with Rowan. And I know I shouldn’t care because it’s not like Caleb gave two shits about my feelings at our graduation party. Or, fuck, maybe ever.
I need a voice of reason, but since the person I used to go to for emotional advice is now my ex and part of the problem, I decide it’s time I get Cami up to speed. She’s going to lose her mind.
The call rings through the speakers of my car when I push her contact info, and I redial her twice before she finally picks up. It’s close to one in the afternoon.
“What, Mom? I’m up. Gosh!” She whines like a teenager. I have serious doubts about my friend making it through college without me. She has zero discipline. Her brother has his shit together at least, and thankfully, she’s staying local so he can keep an eye on her habits.
“I don’t know how you expect to become a nurse from bed,” I say, glancing over my shoulder as I merge onto the highway.
“I’ll work nights. It will be fine. Besides, I have like a million years of school, so I’ll be ready when the time comes.”
I roll my eyes at my friend’s dramatics.
“If you ever get up for school. You know I worry about leaving you alone in two months,” I say.
“So, stay. Go to school with me. We can join a sorority, hit all the parties, date some football players—live the dream!”
I laugh silently.
“I think you’re missing the point.” I follow my words with an audible sigh. My friend mumbles something about me not being any fun.
“Are you on the highway? Your car is super loud,” she groans. I picture her finally stretching her body awake and rolling out of her bed. The only reason she can get away with the lazy life is because her parents both work in healthcare and leave the house at four in the morning.
“I’m heading back from your brother’s shop, actually.” I snap my mouth shut and wait for my friend to pick apart my story while I barrel toward her house.
“Something wrong with your car?” She yawns through her words.
“My ac, you know . . . it’s cold now.” Cami’s always complaining about riding in my car. The vinyl seats and zero air make for a sweaty ride.
“That’s good. Miggy hooked you up? He didn’t say anything.”
I don’t respond, and it takes only a few seconds of my silence for my friend to make the connection.
“Shit! Rowan fixed your car? Did you stay the whole time while he worked on it? Did he take his shirt off? Why didn’t you call me and take me with you? Bitch! I need photos of that man working on a car. It’s creepy for me to take them myself when my brother’s hanging around.”
I chuckle at my friend’s spiral, then suck in a long breath and brace myself for the storm I’m about to brew.
“I didn’t exactly watch him work on the car.” My body hums with a rush of tingles from my mere insinuation. The way Rowan makes my body feel, even from memory. My God.
“Saylor, don’t fuck with me. What are you saying? I need you to give it to me straight. Did you? Are you hooking up with Rowan Anderson?”
I nod vehemently because I know Cami can’t see me, but I manage to temper my voice when I respond.
“We’ve done . . . things. Let’s just say my air is working and so is Rowan Anderson’s tongue.”
“Bitch!” She squeals into the phone, and I laugh at her tirade. I know she’s not truly jealous, and I know she’s going to want embarrassing details, specifics that are going to require a few drinks before I share.
