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“Did you just get in?” he asked, peering up at me with worried eyes.
I tossed my blouse on the chair off to the side. “Yeah. What are you doing here?” I asked again.
He yawned. “The power went out in my neighborhood yesterday, so I let myself in,” he explained, raising his arms above his head to stretch. “You have cable, so…”
I exhaled a laugh and leaned down to start tossing his soda cans and napkins inside the empty pizza box. I never cleaned up after him, but I was in a good mood this morning.
“Where were you?” he pressed again. “I texted.”
I picked up the pizza box full of his garbage and shoved it to his chest. “I was out,” I answered.
He cocked an eyebrow and set the box aside. His eyes fell down my clothes, and he reached up, rubbing the hem of my shirt between his fingers.
“Expensive,” he commented, realization crossing his face as he turned away.
He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, but I didn’t care what he was going to say. Jack watched over me too closely, and I was done with it.
“I want nothing more than to see you with someone,” he appeased, “but don’t you think you’re playing with fire?”
I leaned over, picked up the box again, and pushed it against his chest harder this time.
“I like fire,” I stated, and stepped up onto the couch and sat down on its back.
“Yes, you’re a risk taker,” he teased, “but only when you’re sure of the outcome, Easton. Hate to burst your bubble, but those aren’t really risks.”
I shook my head, rolling my eyes at him. “I’m not falling in love with him. We’re both way too complicated for that.”
“Do you want him to?”
“What?” I heaved a sigh.
“Fall in love with you.”
I stared at my brother, trying to keep a hint of a smile on my face to hide the fact that I was actually thinking about it.
Did I want Tyler Marek to love me?
No, no, of course not.
I wanted someone to love me. Eventually. But I didn’t want it to happen yet.
I thought I’d have years to build a relationship with someone. Years to get my life in order. To feel comfortable letting someone in. But not now and not him.
He was too caught up in his own life – as I was in mine.
He was also twelve years older and at a different point in his life. He probably had too many obligations to take time to travel and explore. And he probably had too many hang-ups about his own parenting abilities to want more children. I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted to have them, either, but it wasn’t something I was ready to rule out.
No. Tyler Marek was a fling.
I licked my lips, flashing my brother a smile. “He makes me laugh and he turns me on,” I taunted. “And I love it when he does this thing with his tongue —”
“Okay!” he burst out, turning away. “We’re not that close.”
I shook with quiet laughter, sinking down onto the couch.
“You want to know the best part?” I asked, and he looked at me.
“I haven’t counted anything since yesterday morning,” I told him.
He looked at me like he didn’t believe me. “Really?”
I nodded, standing up and crossing my arms over my chest.
“I’m keeping my expectations reasonable,” I assured him. “But for now, I feel relaxed for the first time in forever. I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts.”
He seemed to give up his objections, because he slowly started nodding and taking deep breaths. My brother was a contradiction, and I still had trouble understanding him. He wanted me to move on, but he seemed to get antsy whenever I picked up a racket. He wanted me to date – not just have dalliances – but apparently someone like Tyler Marek wasn’t what he had in mind.
If anything, I would’ve thought my brother would entertain the idea. Tyler was successful, connected, and political, everything my brother wanted to be.
I knew what my brother said he wanted for me, but on the rare occasion – like lately – when I seemed to go after it, he would try to pull me back, and I didn’t understand why.
“Well.” He heaved out a sigh and shot me a nudging smile. “Since you’re in such a good mood, I have been dying for some of your bacon and mushroom quiche.”
“Quiche?” I winced. “Do you have any idea how long that’s going to take?”
He widened his smile, looking more comical than sympathetic, with both rows of teeth showing.
But I couldn’t deny him. Being needed kept me busy.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, but I’m playing music, then. Use the headphones if you want to watch TV.”
I rounded the couch and walked into the kitchen, halting immediately when I spotted three cabinets and a drawer open.
Seriously?
“Jack!” I called, walking over and closing everything. “If you’re going to hang out here, at least close the cabinets and drawers after you’ve opened them.”
“Now, in the decades between the American Revolution and the Civil War” – I paced down the aisle in my classroom the next day – “our country experienced the First Industrial Revolution,” I told the students, summarizing the reading from the storm break.
“What kind of inventions sprang forth?” I asked, snapping my fingers. “Let’s go. Come on.”
“The cotton gin!” Rayder Broussard shot out.
“Which did what?” I continued, listening as I stared at the tile and paced back and forth.
