Page 68 of The Older Brother
The cool touch of her hand on my bicep fills my lungs, though, and I meet her gaze as we pull to the stoplight.
“I mean it. You were cute then. Cute now. Always cute.” Her cheeks blush with her sweet compliment, and I think she’s a little embarrassed admitting her crush to me.
“Okay, well, anything else? Did you sort through my credit report and find all the dings on it? Or maybe round up an embarrassing rejection love letter from someone in junior high?” I chuckle but she shakes her head and presses on.
“Nope, none of that. I was too busy locking away the sound of your voice when you hum while you work, and I think I’ve figured out your favorite Stones song. You like Wild Horses, don’t you?”
My mouth hangs open in a surprised smile.
“I do. And I didn’t know I hummed that loud,” I admit.
“It’s loud. I just listen to you. I like how you breathe, how you laugh. I love it when you’re excited and talking trash on the court when you play ball. I love it when you talk dirty to me. I also love the way your eyes close when you turn over an engine you’ve been working on. You smile when it sounds right. And you nod when you eat something you like. You have a thing for dark chocolate. You nibble on the candy bowl by Mig’s computer all the time. And you have a loyal streak that you wear boldly, and clear-cut integrity. You love your brother despite his massive flaws.”
“Massssssive,” I echo, soaking in every overwhelming thing she’s said.
“You’re an easy guy to fall for.” She sucks in her lips, her smile fighting to burst. She stopped short of saying she’s in fact fallen, but I think she has. I have. And I can’t wait to tell her allthe things about her that made it easy just the same. But first, I must tell her why she should run from me, and all the pain I’m going to remind her of from this moment on.
I pull into the burger joint’s lot, and Saylor shifts in her seat. I park rather than drive to the window, because I’m not sure if I should level her with the hard truth now or wait until her stomach is full. I’m not sure what the polite order of events is in this case.
Saylor unfastens her seatbelt and grabs her door handle, anxious to head inside, but I can’t seem to peel my hands away from the steering wheel. She has the door open a few inches when she notices, gazing back at me over her shoulder. Her eyes are pained with a sudden worry, the little dents that form above her brow evident. God, my expression must look like I’m about to be ill.
“Are you okay, Rowan?”
I shake my head. Here goes my life.
“Saylor, we need to talk.” My lips are quivering with nerves, and my face feels numb. “Oh, God. I’m going to be sick.”
I pop open my door and lean out, vomiting acid and coffee onto the pavement. The sour taste matches the ache in my chest, and when Saylors’ palm runs up my spine to comfort me, I shiver.
“Rowan, Oh my God! Hold on, I’ll get you some water. We don’t have to go anywhere today. You need to rest.”
I cover her hand on my shoulder and groan out, “No. Stay. I’ll be fine.”
I hope I’ll be fine. I hopewe’refine.
“Okay,” she croaks, shifting back as her hand falls away from my body. The click of her door tells me she’s settled back inside, so I breathe in deep and straighten myself behind the wheel so I can close mine. My head swivels toward her as if my neck is a rusty hinge. I can feel my mouth pulling toward my chest on thecorners, and the heaviness sitting on my eyelids makes me want to close them. To sleep.To avoid.
“I saw your dad the day he left your mom.” I simply have to start. Saylor flinches slightly at my words, but she steadies herself, breathing in deep through her nose and rolling her lips together before nodding.
“I helped him load his truck. It was midnight, and you were asleep. Your mom was gone, even though she tucked you in. She left so your dad could go quietly.”
Saylor’s lips part, and her eyes begin to water.
“Did my dad do something?” she whispers.
“Oh, no. I’m not telling this well because I’m scared. But no, Saylor. Your dad didn’t do anything. Your mom did. She did the worst thing.” My brow draws in so tight my face feels folded. “With my dad. The two of them were having an affair. And I found out when your dad did because I was there. He had suspicions, I guess. So, one night, when I had decided to surprise my dad at the office with dinner along with my mom, we walked in and found the two of them together in his office.”
“Together?” She shakes her head erratically, as if she’s trying to comprehend the word.
“They were having sex on his desk. And I could give you the details if you want, because believe me, they are burned in my mind forever. But I don’t think you want them.”
She shakes her head and croaks, “I don’t.”
I nod and inhale slowly, bracing myself for all that’s still to come.
“Your dad was about two minutes behind us, so thankfully he didn’t see the act, but he saw the ugly fight between my parents, and he found your mom in tears and still in a state of . . . undress.”
Saylor waves her hand between us, stopping me from painting more of a picture.
