ROMAN
Why the fuckis Brielle Hayes in my house?
That’s the question I’ve been asking myself since I parked out front beside a piece-of-shit sedan I didn’t recognize. Naturally, I took a look through the window to see if I could gather any hints as to who it belonged to. Evie isn’t a kid anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’m alright with her having guys over when I’m not home. Not when I don’t know their name or contact info . . . or their parents.
I was instantly relieved when I saw the furry pink covers on the seat belts and sparkling fuchsia floor mats. Then just as quickly, all I felt was dread. Not because I didn’t want to see the owner of the familiar heels thrown in the back seat and jersey with Rourke on the back that’s been left on one of the mats.
It was because I was suddenly full of more energy than I should have had after such a long series of away games and a loud plane ride that resulted in a pulsing headache. The excitement that plowed right through me like it belonged there was a curse. A reminder that I can’t have what I’m beginning to desperately crave.
I’m not used to feeling so many different emotions all at once. The last time I was overcome like this was before I lost mysister. It was only after I realized she was really gone and never coming back that I started seeing the world in shades of black and grey instead of the vibrant colours my sister used to carry with her everywhere. She was a talented artist with a successful career ahead of her, and now, art is the last thing I want to be around.
It’s been five years, and I still don’t feel like I’ve grieved her enough. I don’t even know the proper way to grieve, if there is one.
Cranking the hot water, I wash my hands in the kitchen sink a third time. My fingers are raw as I scrub them and try to ignore the conversation my niece is having with Brielle only a few feet away.
After hiding away in my room while they ate their sushi under the guise of cleaning myself up, I waited until they were finished before venturing out again. I know now that I should have just spent the entire night locked away somewhere away from Brielle instead of giving in to my desires.
“I guess I didn’t know how tired I actually was today. Is it okay if I bail on the movie?” Evie asks.
I freeze with my hands in the scalding water, pulling in a sharp breath.
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind if you just crashed on the couch,” Brielle says lightly.
I look out toward them at the same moment Evie argues, “And wake up with a kink in my neck? No, thanks. I think I’ve just been pulling too many late nights. My uncle’s always up late if you still want to stay and watch the movie. He’ll join you.”
She pulls Brielle into a hug and finds my gaze over her shoulder, cutting off any chance of the little minx arguing. The wiggling of her eyebrows as she uses a finger to subtly point at the TV has my defenses rising. There’s already some horror film loaded up.
Fuck.
“Right, Uncle? You’re not heading to bed anytime soon, are you?” Evie asks, grinning when she releases Brielle.
Brielle faces me while tugging the shoulder of her cardigan up from where it had slipped. “I don’t know, it’s pretty late already. I’m sure he needs at least twelve hours.”
She’s goading me again, and fuck my life, but I can’t get enough of her attitude. I want to bottle it up and keep it for a rainy day. It’s why I allowed us to get so lost in the moment earlier. With her needy moans in my ear and her body so goddamn pliant and inviting, each provoking word settled like lava in my gut. I can still feel the heavy weight of her tit in my hand.
My throat is dry when I slowly turn off the water. “I was planning on watching a game tonight.”
“Really? The team doesn’t play tomorrow. Do it then,” Evie argues.
I can feel Brielle’s eyes pricking into me while I look at my niece and wipe my hands on a dishtowel. Her frown is far more dramatic than it needs to be. It still makes me feel really damn guilty.
“It’s okay, Evie. I can head home. The last thing I want is to overstay my welcome,” Brielle starts, immediately bending at the waist to snag the black album from the coffee table. “Thank you again for these. They’re incredible.”
Evie’s glare turns furious as she grips her waist and makes sure I know I’m the one responsible for this. It’s rare for her to get mad at me rather than annoyed or frustrated. That’s theonlyreason I change my mind.
It hasnothingto do with the barely noticeable softening of Brielle’s voice when she spoke or the pink hue to her cheeks that I doubt is there for the reasons it usually is.
“What movie is it?”
“Chucky,” Evie snips.
I swallow the frustrated groan that tries to escape and nod. “Alright.”
Brielle’s head slowly lifts, and her eyes flick to mine, staying there. I make no effort to look away. While I might not be ready for this, I’m not about to hurt her feelings. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.
“Great! I’ll text you tomorrow, Elle?” Evie says, already retreating to the hall.
“Yeah, that works.”
