Brother's Keeper (5 page)

His apartment is neat and organized; not anal retentively, but enough so you know it looks this orderly at least 90 percent of the time. The smell is not overly masculine, like cologne, but clean and inviting. His furnishings are tasteful and simple. There are exposed bricks and tall ceilings throughout, and what walls aren’t brick have been kept white. His furniture is contemporary and simple. A sectional sofa in a light-colored linen makes up his living room, with a beige rug sitting in front of the fireplace. He has natural mahogany furniture pieces his father made and black and white photography on the walls. The kitchen is contemporary but blends well with the original brick wall that runs along one side of the room. The spare room looks out over the front of the building and his room over the courtyard in back. Each of the two bedrooms has its own bathroom, and the common area has but a half bath for visiting company.

The spare room, like the rest of the apartment, is decorated simply and tastefully. The bed in the spare room has clean sheets and a green quilt folded on top, but is yet to be made. Logan helps me make the bed and then finishes giving me the tour of his apartment. His bedroom is larger than the spare and has more of his father’s pieces. His bathroom is well organized, and I can’t help but notice the extra toothbrush in the holder. A pang of jealousy hits, and I pathetically wish Amy wasn’t in the picture—as though I could ever compete. I really hope I won’t have any run-ins with the she-bitch.

Logan catches me staring at the toothbrush holder. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of keeping her out of your way.” Whatever the hell that means. Maybe he’s alluding to dumping her… I’m daydreaming. Back to reality.

After showing me around and making sure my spare key works, Logan settles in to relax and watch a movie and asks me to join him. It is late, and I fall asleep halfway through the movie. Logan wakes me when the movie is over and escorts me to my room. He follows me in and sits down on the bed. My heart is pounding—confused at why he followed me.

As is his custom, he watches me until I’m so nervous I start stammering. “Logan … thank you again for…”

“I didn’t come in here because I wanted you to keep thanking me, Rowan.” He pauses. “I know telling me about your past was really hard for you to do, but I’m glad you did. I just want you to be honest with me… I need you to be honest with me. We’ve known each other for a really long time, and I care about you. I just want to make sure you know that. You know if you need anything, you can come to me.”

“I know.” My voice is soft as my eyes flit away from him.

“I’m going to bed. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Okay.”

As Logan stands to leave, we say good night, and I am finally alone; although, I’m not sure I really want to be. I lie there, thinking about the past twenty-four hours and how many things have changed, and I can’t help but wonder what else is in store for me.

Chapter 4

It is unnerving knowing Rowan is sleeping in the next room. I should have left her there and gone back over to my parents’ to keep Rufus company. But I let him out and gave him his medication just before picking Rowan up, and my parents are going to be home early the next morning to help with the church rummage sale. He’ll be fine until then. Besides, I want to be here. I want to be with her. Hell, truth be told, I want her in my bed like last night. What am I saying? Rowan is not my girlfriend. She never has been and never will be. She is my sister’s best friend and nothing more. She is only seventeen, after all. She’s barely more than a child.
Please. Who am I kidding?

When I was seventeen, I knew plenty of seventeen-year-old girls that were hardly naïve and innocent. What made me think she was? I wasn’t a virgin at her age. What makes me think she would be? But that thought is infuriating and brings on a sudden and intense wave of juvenile anger. The thought of some stupid kid touching her and fucking her is almost intolerable. Is it anger or jealousy I’m feeling? If I am being honest, I’d have to admit it’s jealousy. Jealous of whom? Don’t I have to be jealous of someone in order to be jealous? What the hell is wrong with me?

I have a beautiful girlfriend who can’t seem to get enough of me. But I’m just so damn bored with her. She can be flaky, but she’s easy, no pun intended—though the pun is just as accurate as my meaning. She lets me focus on my studies, on my future, and quite frankly, she makes it easy to set her aside when I need to. There’s nothing much to her really. But everyone seems to think she’s great for me. She was furious when I ended our evening early. She almost always spends the night with me on Saturdays, but I had other things on my mind and was looking forward to seeing Rowan again. Had I actually chosen to spend time with Rowan over Amy? I obviously needed to speak with Rowan about our arrangement, but still, I was happy to see Amy go. I just need to stop letting myself get so close to Rowan. That’s all.

I can’t sleep. This is going to be a hell of a long night if I’m going to spend it thinking about Rowan instead of sleeping. I’m just so restless. When I finally start slipping away, it is long after I first lie down. I dream of Rowan. It’s the type of dream where you can’t remember exactly what happened, just the feeling. It was intimate and intense. I remember looking at her and her huge, beautiful eyes looking imploringly back at me. Our eyes were locked, but I don’t know why. And when I wake suddenly, it is with a loud admonishment ringing through my mind.
Get a grip!
Now I’m waking myself up dreaming of her. Wait… I heard something. As I come out of my dream world and the fog of my mind lifts, I remember hearing a noise that woke me. And then I hear it again. I get up and slowly move through my bedroom to the hall that adjoins the bedrooms to the living room. And as I enter the living room, I can see the sink light in the kitchen is on. Did I leave that on? I try to remember, but I can’t.

Then I hear a voice. “Shit! What the hell… How effing tall is he?”

“Effing?”
What the hell does that mean? It is Rowan’s voice I hear, and she’s obviously frustrated by something. I enter the kitchen to see her trying futilely to reach a glass on a high shelf in the cupboard. I ask if I can help her, startling her and causing her to jump. Again she is in pajama pants and a tank top—a different pair from the night before. The pants are baggy on her and the tank top tight. She is wearing her military, geek, chic reading glasses I’ve seen only a few times before. She is so small and delicate and truly fuckable, reading glasses and all. Or perhaps I’m just feeling the effects of my dream. I can’t help but let my eyes slowly take in her entire body.

Her breasts are small but perfect and round, her nipples hard and tight beneath the white tank top. What I wouldn’t give for those nipples to be in my mouth at this moment. The baggy pants leave much to the imagination, but I know her legs are lean and her bottom round and firm. I imagine running my hand down her flat stomach and under that waist band and below, touching her, fingering her clit, and then entering her tight warmth, making her come. I can’t help but wonder what she would sound like coming for me. I’m instantly hard with arousal for her, and I thank God for my own baggy flannel pants. Though if she cared to glance, I’m sure she would know what I was thinking.

She startles me from my fantasy by speaking. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

My breath hitches in my throat as I’m brought back reluctantly to reality. “No. I mean yes, but it’s okay. Is the bed comfortable?” Please say no. Just give me any reason to get you in my bed.

“Yes, it’s fine. Thank you. I just… I’m sorry I woke you. I just can’t reach the glasses.”

I amble over to where she is standing, and from behind her, I reach around and above her for a glass. Any closer and my cock would be up her damn shirt. It’s on a rather tall shelf in an awkward corner, and I have my poor spatial planning to thank for this little temptation. She uses the glass to get a drink of water while I continue to watch her. She seems uncomfortable with my eyes on her, but I have no intention of looking away. Finally finished unintentionally tormenting me, she excuses herself. And I watch her walk away, catching the fabric of the pants brush against the strong and round cheeks of her firm bottom.

I have got to get a hold of myself. This is going to be a very long year if I’m going to turn into a hormonal teen again every time she’s around. Hormonal teen or not, I have to take care of this raging hard-on. And as I stand in my bathroom alone, I imagine her kneeling in front of me. My hand becomes her mouth, and I want so much to look down and see her eyes looking up at me as she sucks me deep into her mouth. I come quickly but with little sense of relief. I don’t want it this way. I want her to make me come. But that’s impossible.

As I collapse back in bed frustrated, I can’t help but think that this is just a passing whim. It has been a long and strange weekend, and I’m sure when I wake in the morning she’ll just be Sara’s young friend I’ve known since childhood again. I hope.

*

He looked so gorgeous standing there in the kitchen with nothing except his flannel pants on. His chest and arms were well muscled and tight. I could feel my nipples tightening as he watched me and hoped he wasn’t noticing my shaky hands. I lie here in bed after that encounter and feel more inept than ever before. I have so little experience with men it is a joke. Aside from the two times I kissed a guy at some stupid party that Sara dragged me to, I’m worthless. I just wish I knew what it felt like. I don’t think I even wanted to be with those guys. It just seemed like the thing to do. I wanted some experience to lean back on if and when it should ever become useful. But seeing Logan, I knew my body wanted it. I could feel the wetness between my legs. He made me feel so soft and warm when he looked at me. All I wanted were his hands on me—everywhere. This is ridiculous. He has a beautiful girlfriend and would never want to be with someone like me. He thinks I’m just a kid, and men aren’t interested in kids like me. I fall asleep depressed and loathing myself. This is not a new feeling for me.

* * * *

When I wake the next morning, I’m more rested than I’ve been in a long time and roll over to see I’ve slept in way too long. It is nearly ten o’clock. I get up, brush my teeth, and shower. As I enter the living room, I see Logan sitting at the kitchen table working on something at his laptop. He looks up and offers me a good morning.

“Hi. I didn’t mean to sleep in so long.” I smile at him.

“It’s okay. I’m sure you were tired. It’s been a long weekend.”

“I better get going. Is there any way I can get my bike from the back of your Jeep?”

“Sure. I’ll get it for you when I drop you off at your house.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can ride from here.”

He looks up from his work, giving me his searing trademark expression of seriousness. “I said I’ll drop you.”

Ten minutes later, as he’s pulling up in front of my home sweet trailer, I thank him again for everything he’s done. And as he is unloading my bike for me, he reminds me, “Don’t forget about our agreement.” I nod. “Rowan, I mean it. I will blow your little story if you don’t play by my rules. Got it?” He is dead serious now.

“I understand.” His face relaxes measurably with my reassurance.

I run inside my house just in time to catch the phone. It’s Sara. She apologizes for not letting me know that she was going to the lake house. Her parents had decided last minute that she should come, too, and she’d tried to call me Friday night, but I’d already left for work and then, as I already know, she forgot her phone. She asks me to come over for Sunday dinner and work on our Composition papers that are due Monday morning. I am nervous about seeing Logan with his family there but don’t have much choice but to go. My report, or at least what I’ve done of it, is saved on their computer. I do all of my papers there because we don’t have a computer. Sara comes to pick me up a half hour later and talks the whole way back to her house. She had a boring weekend and is excited to finally have me to talk to. She asks how my weekend was, and I lie saying I just worked. Normally when something happens that is out of the ordinary, I want to share it with Sara. But even if Logan hadn’t sworn me to secrecy, I’m not sure I’d have told her.

Sara and I help Ronnie in the kitchen with dinner. Logan hasn’t arrived yet, and I find myself nervous as hell waiting for him to get there. When he finally does arrive very shortly before dinner, he seems surprised to see me there. He says hi to his family and me, but when he gets to me, it seems strained and uncomfortable. I wonder if he wants me there at all. I sit across from Logan at dinner and keep catching him looking at me. I can’t tell if he is irritated I'm there or not. He must be sick of me after this weekend and wanting a break, and that admission has me feeling that all too familiar stab of self-loathing guilt.

Sara and I hole up for a few hours in the office, working on our reports, and as I start typing, she starts speed talking. “So whadya do this weekend?” Seriously? She should know me well enough to know I never do anything interesting when she’s gone, but wait, this weekend
was
interesting.

I lie. “Oh, the usual. Work, TV, work, sleep.”

But the look on my face apparently isn’t convincing. “Huh?” She’s stroking her chin as I try to focus on typing and not on my building anxiety. She gives up her suspicion and finally, at seven o’clock, we both finish and decide to call it a night. As we come back downstairs, I see Logan sitting with his parents around the kitchen island deep in conversation. They look up as we come down the stairs, and I have this awful fear that he’s decided against helping me and has confessed all.

But my fears are calmed when Ronnie speaks. “Are you girls finally finished? These better be good papers as much time as the two of you have been working. I thought we agreed you guys would work on your procrastination issues this year.” She is smiling.

Sara says she is going to run me home when Logan interjects that he’s leaving and can drop me just as easily. Those intense eyes are on me again. Sara agrees, and we say our good-byes for the night.