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“Maybe it wasn’t his dad, though. Maybe it was Tristan. Maybe he’s had a thing for you all these years.” Poor Tally looks so hopeful.
I snort. “Doubtful. I was the annoying little sister. He couldn’t stand me then, and not much has changed.” Although he has moments of sweetness. But reading into those is dangerous and stupid.
“He must like you at least a little, all things considered,” Hemi says.
“The only thing he likes about me is my readily accessible vagina. And the only things I like about him are his huge cock and his ability to make me come like a freight train.” That doesn’t feel one hundred percent true on my side anymore, and that makes me nervous. Liking him for anything beyond his skills in the bedroom isn’t part of the deal.
“It’s so romantic,” Hammer deadpans.
“Totally.” I clink my glass against hers.
Tally scrunches up her nose. “That’s the opposite of romantic.”
We all laugh. Getting my heart broken by my childhood tormentor-secret crush is way too cliché. Even for me.
On the subway ride home, I think about how things shifted after Tristan’s mom left. Tristan had to be home to get his younger brothers off the bus after school, so Flip spent more time there. I was an added responsibility neither of them wanted. And Tristan’s tolerance for me evaporated completely when I became a teenager. That summer before I started high school, something changed. I don’t know what tripped the switch. Maybe it was my hormones, or my crush on Tristan became obvious. It was probably irritating to have me hanging around like a lovesick puppy, always vying for his attention.
There were several incidents leading up to the night he made it clear my presence was unwanted and unwelcome, but the evening he threw me in the pool wearing the dress my mom made for Essie’s birthday party stands out as a turning point. I realize now that I had everything he wanted—a family that loved each other, a mom who would spend every spare minute making me a dress so I could look pretty for my best friend’s party. He was angry and hurting.
Maybe he still is.
When I get home, Flip is in the loft watching a movie. Tristan’s bedroom door is closed, so he’s either in there or he’s out. It isn’t until I’m in the loft that I discover Flip is not alone.
“Oh. I didn’t realize you had a friend over. I’ll grab a book and hang out downstairs.” I thumb over my shoulder. There are a couple of occasional chairs by the wall of windows.
“It’s cool. You can watch the movie with us,” Flip says. “Stacey, this is my sister, Rix. Rix, this is my friend Stacey.”
“Hey.” Stacey lifts a hand in an unenthusiastic wave.
“Are you sure? I can totally disappear for a while.” Bed would be nice, but the café nearby is an option if it gets awkward. From what I can tell, they’re about halfway through their movie, and past the first sex scene, thank God. Eventually they’ll go downstairs. I hope.
“Yeah, totally. Come hang out.” Flip pats the empty space beside him. “Where were you tonight?”
“I went to Hemi’s with Hammer and Tally.” I take the spot beside my brother.
He pauses the movie. “Oh, nice. I know it’s tough with Essie in Vancouver.”
“I definitely miss her.”
Stacey pulls out her phone and takes a bunch of selfies that include my brother’s profile.
“I bet. It’ll get easier though. Especially now that you’re getting settled. The new job is good?”
“Yeah. So much better. And I’m on the hunt for an apartment, so you’ll have your TV room back soon.” I motion to the paused movie.
“Don’t rush it. I’d rather you find the right place than end up in a crappy neighborhood again,” he says.
He hits play on the movie again.
Within five minutes, Stacey’s hand is climbing up my brother’s leg. And she’s whispering in his ear. He puts a pillow over his lap.
I’d like to believe my brother wouldn’t get a handy while I’m sitting next to him, but it seems high on the list of potentially awful things that could happen. The giggling comes next, followed by the sound of lips on skin. Stacey moans. I should have stayed at Hemi’s longer.
I’m half a second away from calling them out, or leaving, when the front door opens. “Hey, honey! I’m home!”
I am instantly relieved that it’s Tristan. And worried about why he’s coming in at this hour and where he’s been. Not that I have a right to care.
“We’re up here watching a movie,” Flip calls.
“I’ll be right up. Need anything from the fridge?”
“Nope. All good here!” Flip answers for us.
A minute later, Tristan pulls himself into the loft. His brow arches when he sees me, then rises again when his gaze lands on Flip and Stacey. Tristan is fresh from the gym. He smells like sweat and deodorant. I bet his skin is extra salty right now. What I wouldn’t give to lick a path from his throat to his cock. I cross my legs.
