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I used every moment of our time apart to get in shape. Clear my acne. Learn how to walk, talk, and dress to prove to a twenty-three-year-old man that I was no longer a kid. He would, by God, see that I was no longer that little girl who once begged to be allowed inside their boys-only fort. He would see me as a woman to be reckoned with. A sexual being who wants him. A virgin more than ready to give herself to him.
He took one look at me, and I knew without a bit of doubt that I’d accomplished exactly what I set out to do. Bram finally noticed me. For the first time ever, he saw me as a desirable woman. And it freaked him the fuck out.
On one hand, my plan worked like a charm. On the other, it completely backfired in my face.
I didn’t sleep a wink after I left Bram on the couch. I spent the rest of the night thinking about what happened between us. Replaying every move. Every word. I considered leaving my bed a thousand times, returning to him wearing next to nothing and seducing the fuck out of him. I’m almost certain I would have if he’d been sleeping in the guest room instead of the living room couch where we could be busted by Owen or River.
Dammit. Why couldn’t River have passed out in the recliner so Bram would have been in the guest room? That night would have gone very differently. And we’d be together today instead of not speaking.
I pull into the drive and my heart slams erratically against my inner chest wall when I see Bram’s truck parked in front of my house.Woo. Breathe, girl. In and out. Slow and deep.
Owen’s and River’s trucks are here too. That’s disappointing since I’m certain it means Bram is at my house to see them and not me. I’m nervous as hell but I’ll take seeing Bram any way I can.
I flip my sun visor down and evaluate my appearance. Ratty hair. Oily cheeks. Pale lips. Check, check, and check. Sheez, this isn’t how I want to look when I see Bram again.
I run a brush through the ends of my hair and fluff it at the roots. Not great but it’s the best I can do on the spot. I blot my skin, and apply a fresh coat of gloss. I smack my lips together and recall Bram rubbing his thumb over them when he smeared my lip gloss. Good God, the way he looked at me melted my panties right then and there.That night feels like a million years ago.
I take a deep breath before turning the doorknob.This is Bram. You’ve known him your entire life. Don’t be nervous. He knows you inside and out. He’ll pick up on it.
The boys are in the kitchen stuffing their faces. No surprise there. They invade the pantry every time they come home from school.
“No one touches my Greek yogurt.” Except Bram. He can have anything of mine he wants. That includes me.
“Are you kidding, sis? You seriously think one of us would eat that shit?”
“It’s good, especially with granola and a few dark chocolate chips.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.” Owen goes to the pantry door and stares inside as though food is going to magically appear. “I hope Mom goes to the grocery store after work. There ain’t shit in here to eat.”
“Did she know you were coming home?” I sure didn’t.
“Yeah.”
“Then don’t worry about it. She’ll make sure you get everything you want to eat.” Such a mama’s boy.
I glance in Bram’s direction. He’s staring at the label on a bottle of water.Making it a point not to look at me. No surprise there.
“Why did you come home?” If Owen doesn’t have a baseball game, he has practice. Always.
“Had to come back for Hallie and Jacob’s wedding tomorrow. Rehearsal’s tonight.”
“Right. Forgot about that.” Hearing him say Jacob’s name reminds me of my new tutor. “Hey, do you remember Jacob Rial? I think he’s your age.”
“Yeah. Why are you asking? Did you see that asshole’s mugshot on the six o’clock news or something?”
What’s that supposed to mean? “No. I’m having problems in calculus. My teacher suggested I hire him to tutor me.”
“You can forget that shit right now. That fucker isn’t tutoring you in math or anything else.”
Whoa. “Okay, Owen. Calm down.”
“It would be better for you to flunk than be alone with that guy.” River’s opinion of Jacob Rial isn’t any better.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“That asshole has a nasty little habit of getting girls drunk and then fucking them after they pass out. He did it twice that we know of when we were in high school. Got away with it both times because the girls couldn’t remember what happened. That’s why you won’t be hiring him as a tutor.”
My high hopes sink. “Then what am I supposed to do about getting help in calculus? I asked my teacher for help but he told me he doesn’t tutor his own students.”
