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“Gibs, you better not be naked in there,” my brother warned, ignoring me entirely, while he focused on his friend who was sprawled out in my bed.
“Morning, stud,” Gerard poked the bear by taunting, as he wiggled his fingers in salutation. “Any chance of some breakfast in bed for your favorite brother-in-law?”
And there it was.
His mask.
The divide that separated the sensitive boy I adored from the humorous one all our other friends enjoyed.
It slipped effortlessly into place.
Gibsie belonged to the rest of the world.
Gerard belonged just to me.
“I’ll give you breakfast in bed, you little whore.” My brother’s face turned a freakish shade of purple. “I swear to Christ, lad, if you put so much as a finger on her, I will legit kill you dead this time.”
“On her or in her?”
“Gibs!”
“Oh, get a grip, you big eejit.” I rolled my eyes and stalked toward my brother. “He’s only messing with you. We’re clearly just friends.”
“Clearly,” came Hugh’s sarcastic response. “You two are just friends and Bella’s the Virgin Mary.”
“Bella’s a… What’s the word those girls in pink use in the film, babe?” Gerard asked, twirling a finger around aimlessly. “An ugly clit?”
“A fugly slut, Gerard,” I corrected with a smile. “But full marks for attempting a Mean Girls reference.”
“Fugly slut,” he chuckled, repeating the word to himself. “I love it.”
“You won’t be around to love anything if you don’t get your hole out of my sister’s bed,” Hugh growled.
“Hey now, you listen up here, buddy,” I huffed, catching ahold of his shoulders and pushing him toward my door. “I don’t go in your room when your precious Katie is here, so you don’t get to come into mine.”
“There’s a big goddamn difference in that equation, Claire,” Hugh shot back. “Katie’s a saint and he’s a whore.” Clearly furious, my older brother took in my appearance and seemed temporary appeased at the sight of my pink, fluffy onesie. “Oh, thank Jesus. You’re fully clothed.”
“Same as always,” I drawled, folding my arms across my chest. “Talk about jumping to conclusions, Hugh. Jeez.”
“Yeah, well, this sleepwalking bullshit has to stop,” my brother commanded, turning his attention back to the boy in my bed. “It’s getting beyond a joke.”
“He can’t help it,” I protested, finding myself coming to the defense of the boy I’d adored since childhood. “You know it’s not something he can control, Hugh. It just happens.”
“Of course he can,” Hugh shot back, giving me a look that said don’t be so gullible. “He knows exactly what he’s doing.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Yes, he does,” my brother clapped back. “You don’t see him sleepwalking into my bed, do you?”
“If you’re feeling left out, I can make it my mission to stop by your bed tonight, brother,” Gerard said.
“Try it and I’ll chop your nuts off.”
“No need to get testy.”
“Stay out of my sister’s bed and we won’t have a problem.”
“Force of habit,” Gerard mused as he stretched out on my bed like a big, lazy lion before pulling himself into a sitting position, Gibsie mode fully activated.
