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He looked back at the guys who were all piled up in one booth in a nearby pizza parlor. They were rowdy, loud, and all over the place, but they did look like a little family. I couldn’t deny that.
“Well, I’ll be here all summer. Maybe we can hang out some time and rebuild our bond.”
“We were just about to grab a pizza,” he said with a hopeful look in his eyes. “You want a slice? We can sit at a different booth, so the guys won’t bother you.”
I didn’t want to sit anywhere near Nick’s group of rowdy friends, but for the sake of spending time with my little brother, I agreed. The minute we walked into the parlor, the guys started hollering and whistling, complimenting my looks and the way I walked. Nick fought hard to keep his composure, but I could tell the attention I got from his friend annoyed him.
“Do any of you have girlfriends?” I asked, as Nick and I took a booth in the back of the parlor.
“Some of us,” he said.
“Us?” I side-eyed. “What do you mean, us?”
Nick laughed bashfully as he looked over the menu like he wasn’t already sure he’d order a large pepperoni with a two liter coke.
“You have a girlfriend, Nick?”
“Yeah! Sheesh!” he laughed. “We’ve been dating for a few months now. And yes, I'm treating her right. Trying to find a job so I can take her places, you know?”
A proud smile crossed my face as I listened to my little brother talk about all the things he wanted to do for his girlfriend. Whoever she was sounded like a nice girl. I just hoped they were being responsible and not planning on bringing any babies into the world before they were ready.
“Does mom know you have a girlfriend?” I asked.
“Mom doesn't know shit,” he spat. “She’s never around. It got even worse after you left.”
When Trent was sentenced, mom lost what little was left of her ambition. She became a recluse, started skipping out on work to stay in bed or hang out all night. She started drinking heavily and eventually, the nightlife consumed her.
“Anyway,” Nick said, changing the subject. “What’s up with you? Why'd you come back after all this time? I thought you were staying away forever.”
“I don’t know,” I sighed. “I felt like I needed to come back to tie up loose ends. I want to find out where Trent is too. They keep moving him around and I want to know why.”
“Why? So that you can write a book about it?” he asked.
“I’m a romance writer,” I chuckled. “I don’t write prison stories.”
Nick made an interesting point after my comment. He said just because someone was in prison, didn’t mean they couldn’t fall in love. He was right. I had been in a mental prison for years, yet and still, I fell in love. I fell in love with a man. I fell in love with writing, and I fell in love with the idea of wanting a better life.
The more I talked to my little brother about what it meant to love and be loved, the more I thought about Brayden. I was blinded by his sexiness and the things he was capable of in the bedroom. So much so, it made me overlook all of the things we needed to work on.
After pizza with Nick, I went back to the cabin. It was after six that evening and the sun had just started to set on the horizon. Outside of my overwhelming thoughts of Brayden and all the ways he made me feel good sexually, I wanted to relax with a glass of wine and watch the night sky set in.
Unfortunately, Brayden was drunk off his beers and blasting his TV at max volume, making the sound unbearable to me and everything else around.
“Will you turn that down, please!”
I stood at his bedroom door shouting out over the sports commentator yelping about some stupid field goal. Brayden ignored me, of course, pretending as if I weren’t even there.
“Brayden!” I shouted out again. “Will you turn that down, please! You're not the only one here.”
When he continued to ignore me, I invited myself into his room, grabbed the remote from his hands and turned the TV off. The room went silent, and Brayden continued to stare at the screen like he couldn't believe I turned it off in the middle of his game.
“You’re not the only one here,” I said. “It’s rude as hell for you to have your TV blaring so loud like you’re here alone.”
“You’ve been gone all day,” he said. “How the hell was I supposed to know you were back?”
I hated it when he acted clueless. He was very aware that I was home and even more aware that I stood in his doorway asking him to turn the noise down. He wanted to get a rise out of me, but the only thing he did was make me angry.
“Cut the crap, Brayden,” I scoffed. “And keep the noise down.”
