Page 16 of Rescued By My Best Friend's Brother

His face turned red as he read the title. “Give that to me,” he demanded.

I smirked. “Ooooh does it have some pervy shit in it?” I opened it, to see what kind of stuff Jasper could be hiding.

He tossed his headphones on his desk and ran over to the bed. He moved faster than expected, tackling me onto the mattress. I stretched to try to keep the book out of his reach, but his limbs were longer than mine. His hand wrapped around his comic book and my hand, but my attention wasn’t on the comic book anymore. I gazed down at my chest where his other hand had landed. He followed my gaze, and I felt something twitch against the inside of my thigh, something inside his sweatpants. His face grew a darker shade of red.

He ripped the comic book from my grasp and sat back, holding it over his crotch. I coughed and straightened out my shirt, uncertain what I should do next. Without another beat, he yelled at me to leave his room, and I quickly obeyed.

I don’t know if it was this incident that made him hate me or something later on, but as the year had progressed, his attitude towards me shifted to disdain, like I was a thorn in his side.

I shake off the memory. I hope our relationship moving forward can at least be civil. I like Lily, and over the last week, we’d really gotten along. She seems lonely, and I hope, even if it is temporary, I can help with that. Being young and lonely is such a sad thing to experience. Maybe that is why I’d fallen so hard for Bradley. He gave me the attention I desired for so long, not like those guys Josie was interested in or the men my mother had dated, or even the people in the foster system that abused their power. No, he gave me a genuine interest that I thought would last for a long time, but instead slowly faded. I could even say this last couple of years, the attention had turned sour and rotten.

I help Sheri with the dishes as Lily and Josie finish up their dinner. “Can I take Daddy his plate?” Lily asks.

I dry some of the dishes that Sheri has already washed and put in the drying rack. Josie chuckles. “I think your dad needs to concentrate. How about you go wash up, and I’ll come read you a story when you’re dressed and ready for bed,” Josie says.

“Will you do the monster voice?” Lily leans forward, eagerly awaiting a reply.

Josie grins and mimics her posture. “Of course, I’ll do the monster voice.” As she says this, her voice deepens and becomes gravelly. It sort of reminds me of the Cookie Monster.

I laugh. Of course, Josie would have a monster voice. “I bet Josie has a lot of different voices she can do,” I add.

“Oh yes!” Lily says.

“All right, all right. Take your plate to Elena and then go wash up. I’ll do all the voices you want once you’re ready for bed,” Josie orders.

Lily collects her plate and utensils and runs over to me. I take them from her. “Thank you,” she says a little too loudly before running out of the kitchen.

“That must be some type of reading,” Sheri comments as she grabs her purse. “Well young ladies, I am off. I won’t be here tomorrow for breakfast, but I sure will make it to dinner.” She picks up a plate full of food. “Here’s his plate, if you want to go ahead and take it to him.”

I dry my hands on a washcloth and nod. “Yes.” I take it from her. “Thank you so much. Dinner was delicious.”

“Sheri always makes food with love,” Josie says. “I’m going to help Lily with her bath before my multiple personalities have to come out.”

I roll my eyes. “Multiple personalities, my ass,” I mumble to myself as Sheri heads to the front door and Josie out the glass doors.

“I heard that, bestie!”

I ignore her and go to Jasper’s office. I would have brought his plate earlier, but Lily had insisted I eat with her right then and there. A six-year-old can be quite convincing of how dire their wants are. I don’t remember it being this way when I babysat my foster brothers and sisters in high school, but then again, I don’t remember too much of that time. It was more of a blur through my ever-changing life.

I find the door already open and walk inside. Jasper is nowhere to be seen. I glance around. I dream of one day having something similar, more for books rather than to work. I used to love reading, but as I got busier and older, books faded into the background of my life, just like many of my other interests and desires.

I walk over to his somewhat messy desk and push some papers aside, so I can set the plate down. He probably just went to the restroom or something. As I place the plate on the desk, a card falls off the side. I move behind his desk and lean down to pick it up, recognizing this card as the one he had hidden the other day. I examine the front, a bird with some flowers behind it on a pastel background. It looks like one of those cards a grandmother might send for someone’s birthday.

“What are you doing in here?” Jasper’s voice cuts through the silence, causing me to jump. “Why are you looking at that?”

I hold up the card. “Oh, it just fell—”

He runs a hand through his thick black hair, messing it up, then points a finger at me. “I knew I couldn’t trust you.”

I set the card back down and step out from behind his desk. “No. You can. I just—”

He closes the space between us, causing me to lean against his desk. The corner presses against my ass, making me feel uncomfortable and aware that I cannot run out of the office without pushing Jasper out of my way first. “You’re lying. You’re snooping around my office.” his voice is stern, similar to his tone from yesterday.

He leans down, and I smell mint on his breath. My heart races in my chest, and although he seems extremely frustrated to have caught me behind his desk, I feel invigorated by his nearness. His cologne fills my nostrils, intoxicating me, drawing me in.

“I—” I want to say something, anything. Like ask why the card made him this way or why he gets so mad at me? I want to remind him that we just made up, that he finally chose to move on from all the past bullshit that happened between us. But my attention is glued to his lips, how they’re pressed into a straight line, pursed together, keeping the anger inside.

“What is going on?” I finally ask.

---