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The meatballs.
“SHIT!”
I race out of the walk-in pantry and find Austin hovered over my meatballs, looking at them in horror. I shove him out of the way, and when I peer into the pot, devastation burns through me.
“Ahh, fuck,” I say, just as the sound of the doorbell fills my childhood home.
“Perfect timing,” Austin says. “That’ll be our pizza.”
I gape at him. “You assumed I’d screw it up?”
“No,” he laughs as Izaac strides in, his face scrunched at the smell of the burned meatballs. “I fucking hoped for it.”
31
ASPEN
Austin sits across from me at the dining table, the sparkle in his eyes brighter than ever before as he scoops up his first slice of pizza and fixes me with a smug grin. “Great lunch, little sister,” he chides. “This is my favorite.” He takes a hefty bite and exaggerates a moan, rolling his eyes at the guilty pleasure. “Mmmmmm. Delicious.”
I pick up a single slice of garlic bread and toss it across the table, smacking him directly in the center of his big-ass forehead, only it falls right onto his plate and he happily scoops it up, places it on top of his pizza slice, and eats the stupid pizza like a goddamn sandwich. “I hate you. You know that, right?”
His grin just widens. “I know. Isn’t it marvelous?”
Fucking brothers. Why did my mother insist on providing me with one? Though, I suppose, I was the little sister he was provided with. If I were the older sibling, I’d be sure to hold that power with great respect and use it to my absolute advantage.
Mom sits by Austin as Dad takes up the head of the table, leaving Izaac with nowhere to sit but right next to me. I swallow hard. Any other day, it would be fine, but the way he so boldly locked us in Mom’s pantry and hasn’t stopped looking at me since are the perfect ingredients for disaster.
Everyone digs into lunch, scooping up slice after slice, and I’m not going to lie, despite the frustration I feel for my burned meatballs, this pizza is incredible. Austin always splurges when he’s treating his family, and I love that about him. Christmas and birthday presents are always over the top, and there’s no denying the thought he puts into every single one of them.
After finishing off my second slice, I reach for my drink and take a needy sip when Izaac leans forward, taking another slice and placing it onto my plate. My brows furrow, and I meet his eye, loving how he so casually looks out for me. It wasn’t forced or done out of being polite, he just did it because it’s what felt right to him, but it seems I wasn’t the only one to notice.
“The fuck?” Austin grunts. “What was that? She can get her own pizza.”
Izaac rolls his eyes and fixes Austin with a stare. “It’s called being polite. You should try it sometime.”
Austin scoffs. Every last person at the table knows just how polite my brother is. He was always known as the golden boy. Great at sports, an amazing friend, perfect grades, and always the first to open a door for someone. The whole fucking town knows it. The only person who doesn’t reap the rewards of his perfectness is me, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love that he lets his guard down with me and can be an ass because, when it comes down to it, that’s just his way of telling me he loves me. When it really counts, he pushes the bullshit aside and is real with me, and even though those moments are rare, that’s what makes them special.
Seeing Austin has nothing to say, Izaac’s lips kick up into a wicked smirk, and as his elbow accidentally knocks his now-useless cutlery off the table, I lean back in my seat and try not to focus on the incredible man beside me or the way he made love to me on Monday night.
Nothing will ever compare to that moment. It’s forever ingrained in my memory, etched into my brain like a timeless carving.
Dad clears his throat and glances toward Austin as Izaac leans down between us to find his fallen cutlery. “What’s this big announcement you’ve dragged everyone here for?” he asks, crossing his arms over his big chest and waiting expectantly just as the slightest brush trails up my calf. “Is this about your trip out of town?”
Oh no.
Izaac’s fingers roam higher to my knee as he straightens in his seat, no one any wiser that his hand isn’t anywhere near where it’s supposed to be. I shoot a warning glare his way, but he just casually reaches for the pizza on his plate and takes a bite, waiting for Austin to say whatever he brought us all here to say.
His fingers roam higher to my inner thigh, and I curse myself, knowing exactly what he intends to do, but it’s not as though I can really say anything about it right now. All I can do is curse myself for wearing a dress today.
“No, actually,” Austin says as I reach for my glass of wine and take a hefty sip, only as Izaac’s fingers slip beneath the hem of my dress and find the apex of my thighs, I suck in a gasp and promptly choke on my wine.
All eyes fall to me, Izaac’s included. “You good?” he asks with false concern.
“Mmm-hmm,” I say, setting my glass back down. “Went down the wrong way.”
Knowing this game is far too dangerous, I cross my legs, blocking any access to the promised land, and Izaac immediately settles his hand on my knee, giving it a tight squeeze before pushing it away and spreading my thighs beneath the table.
I swallow hard, keeping my gaze locked on Austin as he talks. “My meeting with the interior designer went great,” he says as Izaac’s hand dives for my pussy, rubbing me over my sheer thong. My hips jolt, and when his fingers work their way beneath the fabric and directly to my clit, my hands begin to tremble. “She confirmed during the week that she’ll take on the job and will be coming out once the renovations start wrapping to get a better idea of what we’re working with, and while that’s great news and could do incredible things come launch, that’s not the announcement I brought you all here for.”
