The Other Brother (Binghamton #4)

“Sometimes I need a little push.”

Aaron’s hand snags mine, and our palms press together, the engine of his truck filling the silence between us. We don’t need to say much, as the day we spent together speaks for itself.

There’s no denying it. Aaron brings out the best in me. His addicting energy captures me. Or perhaps captivates. He makes me laugh, makes me think, and makes me enjoy the moment, the here and now, and he’s always been like that.

The truck turns onto Franklin Street. All the houses have their lights off, which is no surprise since it’s so late. I’ve come to love this little neighborhood and the odd community it is. I still may be on the fence when it comes to winning over my elderly neighbors, but I know I’ll get there. At least I hope I do.

Aaron parks his truck and turns it off. He doesn’t turn toward me, just squeezes my hand before letting go and getting out. He rounds the front quickly and opens my passenger side door. My tired body turns to be hoisted out by Aaron and placed on the driveway.

Sleepily I laugh and say, “I could have gotten down, you know.”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t want to risk you falling down on those sleepy legs of yours. I know how you get when you’re tired; you’re barely able to function.”

“Not true.” I take a step forward and trip over my own damn feet. Aaron catches me and starts laughing. “That was a poorly timed step, very unfortunate actually.”

“Uh-huh, and your eyes aren’t open, why?”

“It’s bright out.” I hold my hand up, blocking the foggy moon from sight.

“Not buying it. Come on, I’ll help you into your house.”

I blame the giant sugar crash I’m experiencing for feeling slightly drunk. Aaron guides me inside, holding my hand the entire time as I stumble past furniture. He leads me to the bathroom, puts toothpaste on my toothbrush, and hands it to me. “Brush, babe. I’m going to go check the locks to make sure you’re good for the night.”

When he leaves the bathroom, I stick the toothbrush in my mouth and start brushing, staring at myself in the mirror. My eyes look tired, but also . . . excited, if that makes any sense. It’s like there’s a glimpse of hope in them, hope for what’s to come. I’m sure I’m not supposed to feel this already.

I rinse and wipe my mouth as Aaron comes into the bathroom. “You’re all locked up.” He sticks his hands in his pockets, his arms flexing, and rocks on his heels, eyeing me. “You good? Think you can make it upstairs to your bedroom?”

I can, but I don’t want to go up there by myself so I shake my head no. His lip turns up as he grabs my hand and says, “Come on.”

He takes his time, making sure not to rush my tired, sugared-out body. When we reach my bedroom, he releases my hand, goes to my dresser, and starts pulling out drawers until he finds a large T-shirt. He doesn’t turn around right away, but when he does, he holds it open, revealing his B-Mets T-shirt I’ve kept all these years.

“You still have it.” His eyes grow soft, appreciation in his voice.

“I couldn’t get rid of it,” I admit. “It was the one thing I couldn’t part with, no matter how mad I was at you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” He hands it over and nods at me. “Go ahead and get changed.”

He turns and heads out of my bedroom when I call out to him. “Are you leaving?”

“No,” he responds, his voice low, gruff, “just giving you some privacy.”

Despite how tired I am, I make quick work with my clothes and strip down to nothing but the T-shirt and underpants. I secure my long brown hair into a high bun and call out, “I’m all set.”

Aaron appears in the doorway, and when he takes me in, I notice a small tick in his jaw, like he’s grinding his teeth, trying to hold back. He nods at my bed, keeping his distance. “You going to get in? I’ll lock up downstairs as I leave.”

I twist my lips to the side, butterflies fluttering in my stomach as I try to gather the courage to ask him to stay. I wring my hands together and say, “You don’t have to leave right away, you know.”

Not quite asking him to stay, but then again, I’m not asking him to leave either. Maybe he can decipher what I’m trying to ask him.

His jaw looks tighter, and I see him mulling over his decision. He blows out a long breath and grips the back of his neck, his head turned down, but his eyes on me. When he takes a step forward, my heart leaps in my chest. It’s funny how much I want him to stay, compared to a few days ago when I was pushing him away. I must seem so indecisive; hell, I have been. I don’t know what I want, all I know is I don’t want to be alone tonight. At least, that’s some of what I feel.

When he reaches me, I expect him to wrap me in his arms, but instead he takes me to my bed and helps me lie down. He pulls the comforter over me and tucks in the sides, just the way I like it. I rest my head on my pillow and stare at him, loving how kind his eyes are. They have always been kind.

He leans forward and brushes stray hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. From my ear, his fingers glide to my cheek where his palm cups my face. He sighs and smiles.

“You’re beautiful.”

I press my hand against his, trapping him in place. “Stay with me.”

His eyes squeeze tight as he bows his head. When he speaks, his voice sounds pained. “You have no idea how much I want to stay, but I think it’s best if I go home.”

Leaning forward, Aaron presses a kiss against my forehead and then lifts away from me. His thumb strokes my cheek a few times before he stands.

Why is he so patient?

Why am I so forthright?

I left Trey days ago, and yet here I am, asking another man into my bed. Trey doesn’t deserve that. Neither does Aaron if I’m being honest. It’s not as if Trey stopped loving me. Well, not really. He did lose focus of who we are as a couple. And as I realized on the way back, I had too. I have genuinely missed him while living in Binghamton, but I’ve also adapted to daily life without him. We have grown apart. We didn’t connect every day, and when we did it felt a little forced. Rushed. I still love Trey, but I can’t see him in my future, even though I’d been so adamant that he was my future. I once felt that way about the man in front of me, looking at me with love in his eyes. But he’s right. I shouldn’t be jumping into a new relationship, even if it is with someone I’ve loved before. I need time.

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