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He’s. My. Brother.
He pulls his lips between his teeth, shaking his head. “She did.”
Jealousy thunders through me—the most loathsome, most venomous of all the human emotions. Tears rush to my eyes as my hands curl into fists.
“June…” He descends on me, concern radiating from his worried eyes. “June, talk to me. You look like I just ripped your heart out.”
My bottom lip trembles, so I chomp down on it, flicking my head back and forth.
“I don’t understand,” Brant murmurs, moving in until we’re toe-to-toe. His hand raises, his knuckles skimming my flushed cheek. “You told me to. You said I should go out with her.”
“I–I know… You should. I’m sorry.” I’m not sure what to say or how to explain away this ridiculous reaction. All I can think to do is run from it. “I should go. I didn’t mean to just show up like this. It was rude and presumptuous.”
Pulling away from his touch, I sweep around him and march my way to the front door. I don’t grab my bags, but I’ll come back for them. It’s fine.
I just need to go.
When I reach the door, I twist the brass knob and tug it open, prepared to dart into the hallway and escape this mess of confusion.
Only, I’m stopped short when a hand plants against the door right above my head, slamming it shut. I draw in a sharp breath. He’s right behind me, his chest brushing along my back as he cages me in. Swallowing hard, I squeak out, “Brant…”
Electricity hisses all around us.
My hand squeezes the doorknob, more for balance than for reprieve.
Brant leans in, his lips caressing my ear and sending a shiver up my spine. “Tell me why the thought of me having sex with someone else bothers you.”
I inhale another choppy breath.
He remains flush against me, his warmth causing me to overheat.
“Else?” I mutter, licking my lips. The word comes out shaky. Everything is shaky. “Did you mean someone other than…me?”
A sigh leaves him. A sigh that sounds like want and yearning.
A sigh that sounds like I should go.
“Yes,” he whispers, his head drawing up. Another few seconds pass before he moves back over me, resting his forehead on the crown of my head. “That’s what I meant.”
We remain in that position for a long time, his hand pressed to the wooden door above me, his body leaning forward, blanketing me with his hard frame and spearmint scent. His breaths tickle the nape of my neck, causing my hair to flitter and dance.
His command hangs in the air, but I don’t have an answer for it.
Only the sad truth: I don’t know.
Brant finally moves away, pulling his hand from the door and taking a step back. My palm is still fisted around the doorknob, clammy and trembling.
He sighs again, this time with an air of defeat. “Stay.”
The word reverberates through me.
Leaves me conflicted.
Leaves me rattled.
Leaves me dropping my hand from the knob and saying the one word I probably shouldn’t say: “Okay.”
I stay.
