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What even. Why my brain kept forgetting he was my sibling, I had no idea. It was hard to think of him as my brother when we’d been linked by blood alone for so long. We didn’t know each other well, and we were new to each other’s lives. We were almost strangers.
Adrian should’ve laughed me off. He should’ve shot me down and called me a perv, something — anything — to tell me to back off. Instead, he just blushed again and looked back at his plate. We both sat in silence for several tension-laden seconds before he offered me another piece of steak, that fork extending across the table like it wasn't just food he was offering.
What. The. Fuck.
“Do you want more?”
Did he have no clue how that sounded? How it came across and what crazy shit he was putting in my head? Probably not, but then, could he really be that innocent? I wished I knew him well enough to be confident of the answer. Then again, if we actually knew each other, we probably wouldn’t have been sitting in Denny’s on what might be a date.
Probably.
If he hadn’t already had the bite offered out, I’d have said no, but I couldn’t resist the allure of that single piece. It shouldn’t have been as mesmerizing as it was, but then, I shouldn’t have kept imagining what it might be like to let him eat out of my hand either.
I was going to that special hell, that was for sure.
“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. I leaned in, and that time… All right, so that time, I might’ve made it look vaguely obscene when I took the bite from his fork — to see what he would do, of course, and not just because I wanted to.
Adrian just watched me, the fork still held out like he’d completely forgotten it, and licked his lips again. If I was going to hell, it was going to be completely his fault. How was I supposed to ignore reactions like that?
Simple: I couldn’t.
Just as simple, I had to.
I wished I knew how he really felt about this tension between us. I didn’t know if I was sweeping him up in the current or if he was swimming along beside me — which was a thought that got a certain amnesiac blue fish stuck in my mind. Well, I’d have to just keep swimming and hope I didn’t drag either of us down.
“I, um…” Nope. I had nothing.
“Can I have another bite of yours?” he asked. I’d be damned if he didn’t lean across the table, opening his mouth as he waited for me to feed him.
This had to be a dream, or a nightmare — or hell, maybe both. I wasn’t sure what it qualified as, but it definitely wasn’t anything normal.
“Yeah, of course,” I said, pretending I wasn’t trying not to stammer over the words. Offering out the mouthful of pasta, I slowly slid it into his mouth—
Special. Fucking. Hell.
“If you’re going to keep stealing my food, you should come sit by me. It’d be easier,” I found myself saying.
Adrian gave me a long look, and it felt like he was trying to see inside me. Before I could start fidgeting, he glanced at the seat on my side of the booth. “It’s not that big. It will be a tight fit. Is that okay?”
“Nah, I’m used to things being tight,” I said, remembering only after I’d spoken that I was talking to my brother. He was going to run any minute now, and I wouldn’t be able to blame him. I took a gulp of my drink, berating myself. “It’s fine, I meant. Used to not having much space.”
Adrian blinked at me. “Is it okay if I sit on the inside? I think it will be more comfortable if you’re on the outside… of the booth.” I didn’t know how he could look so fucking oblivious, all while the craziest shit was running through my head.
Was he trying to make me come undone right then and there? He looked so goddamn innocent, and… Fuck, that was the problem, wasn’t it? This was supposed to be innocent. I was the one making it dirty.
I took a deep breath then got up. “Sure,” I said as casually as I could — which meant I definitely didn’t croak or almost choke on the word. “Good sir,” I said, gesturing gallantly to the seat in what was yet another bad attempt to salvage the situation.
Universe: 393,949,304. Me: 0.
Adrian smiled, and a faint blush showed on his cheeks. “I’ve never had a date take such good care of me. Most of the time they seem to think I want to take charge. This is nice.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He slid his plate across the table, stood, and stepped closer. His body brushed against mine, and he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.
If it had been a real date, I would have thought he was checking me out, maybe even trying to see how I’d react to things getting a little more intimate.
But it wasn’t a real date.
