Page 71 of Filthy Sweet

“I am. Robin’s coming over.”

“Good.” Some of my stress eases, knowing he won’t be alone. “I have to do a work thing tomorrow, from early morning into the afternoon. I’ll be outside the city, just wanted you to know.”

“Okay. Thanks for telling me.”

I stand there, holding the phone to my ear, and the silence stretches between us.

“Be good to yourself, cutie,” Owen finally says.

I chuckle, surprised by his use of my nickname for him. “You too, Dr. Lavigne.”

* * *

OWEN

It takes Reggie until Sunday to answer the phone. I try him right after I finish my coffee, and my hands are jittery.

“You picked up!” I say, surprised.

“And I’ll hang up again if this turns into one of your freaky porns.”

I sit there a second. After all the time I’ve put into thinking about this conversation, I still find myself wordless.

“Can I come over?” I ask. My brother doesn’t answer. “With breakfast?” I weakly add.

An hour later, I’m at his place, my arms full of to-go breakfast food from a bakery nearby. Reggie avoids my eyes when he lets me in but takes the bags. He’s dressed in his pajamas, sweatpants and a sleeveless T-shirt, and he slumps his massive shoulders as he digs through the food.

“There are bacon-egg sandwiches,” I offer helpfully.

Reggie grunts.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you,” I say quickly, jumping right in like Fox would. “I wrote you a letter last week. I swear. I left it on your table.”

Reggie looks at the table, then pushes some of the mail around. “Where?”

“I took it back.”

He raises a furry eyebrow. “Why?”

“It said we were just having sex,” I try to explain, using my logical, classroom voice. “By the time we realized you hadn’t read it, our thing had grown into something else. Something more. And we were just about to leave town for Palm Springs.”

“Just sex.” Reggie winces, thinking through that information. “How long, exactly, were you doing that?” he asks, his voice growly.

Okay, this isn’t how I intended to approach the subject.

“Um. I don’t know how to answer that. I guess it started a few weeks ago?”

Reggie throws the food bag on the table. “I can’t believe Fox did this. This is so fucked up.”

“It wasn’t just Fox,” I say, defensive. “I’m the one who asked him to not tell you at first.”

Finally, he looks right at me. I’ve almost never seen my brother pissed, and it’s scary. His square jaw is set, and all the muscles on his thick neck are tight, like steel beams. “It sucks bad enough that you lied and kept secrets from me. But Fox took advantage of you. That’s worse.”

“What?” I object, losing my cool. “He did not.”

“You’re just coming out of the closet, learning that you’re gay and stuff. You need a nice guy to show you a good time. You’re not ready for—”

“Reggie, you have to stop babying me!” I yell.

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