He pulled away, and I felt like the air had been ripped out of my lungs.
He placed his hands on his armrest and breathed hard.
“Now get out of here,” he ordered, his tone turning clipped. “And if you don’t show on Sunday, I’ll never do that again.”
Arrogant, confident, son of a…
I hopped off his lap and pounded on the window for Patrick to let me out. I didn’t have to turn around to know that Marek was smiling.
And when Patrick opened the door, I stepped out, not once turning around for Tyler to see my grin.
Once I’d stepped inside the house, I heard his car pull away, and I closed the door, slipping off my flats.
Catching myself in the large square mirror on the wall perpendicular to the door, I took in my appearance, feeling completely disheveled but not out of sorts. My deep brown hair was clean, but it was a little frizzy, since it hadn’t been blow-dried properly, curled, straightened, or styled in any way. I always thought I looked bland without makeup, but my skin was glowing, and there was a natural blush across my cheeks that I’d never seemed to have before.
The top two buttons of his shirt were open, and I wasn’t wearing a bra, so I could feel the smooth, soft fabric against my sensitive skin. Everything touched me like it was a new feeling. Like my skin had come alive, tingling with frenzy.
I pulled the collar over my nose and inhaled, the smell of a spice, wood, and leather filling my chest.
Twisting around, I hit all the locks on the door and then rounded the entryway into the living room.
I stopped, spotting my brother sprawled out on the couch.
“Jack?” I called, walking up to the couch.
He shifted, lying there in his jeans with no T-shirt as his eyes slowly blinked awake. I looked over at the clock, seeing it was still only six oh four. He must’ve been here overnight.
“What are you doing here?” I rounded the couch to stand next to him.
He opened his eyes and focused on me. “Easton, what the hell?” he grumbled.
Sitting up, he planted his feet on the ground and hunched over, putting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his eyes.
“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.”