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At first, I think it's Kyle who says it. But I hear his breath hitch in my ear and feel him tense behind me.
I lift my head, see Matt standing in the doorway.
The doorway of our apartment.
In Boulder.
I quickly cover my chest with my arms as Kyle wraps his arms around my midsection.
"What the fuck, dickface?" Kyle hollers. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"
Matt covers his face with his hands and tries moving backwards to the door. He ends up tripping over his own feet and colliding with the wall.
If I wasn't mortified from him walking in on me having sex with Kyle in our kitchen, I would probably laugh.
Kyle pulls out of me while I frantically search for my bra. I put it on in record time and slip my dress back up my arms. Kyle's pants are zipped up by the time I motion for him to help me with the back of my dress. His fingers quickly zip me up as I smooth the material down my legs. When I'm pretty sure everything is covered, I rush to the bathroom, leaving Kyle and a red-faced Matt alone together.
Hopefully they don't kill each other.
I clean myself up in the bathroom, straining to hear the conversation in the living room. But all I hear are their muffled voices through the too thick walls.
Once I'm presentable, I grab my backpack and check the time.
Phew.
I still have plenty of time to make it to my first class early.
Econ 101.
Somehow, I managed to get all the classes I wanted this semester. Econ 101 is on Monday mornings. Intro to Women's History and Astronomy on Tuesdays and Thursdays and an online science class Kyle said was pretty easy to pass. It's a light schedule, but it gives me plenty of time to work and go home on the weekends to be with Diane.
Kyle's drinking a cup of coffee and Matt chomping on one of my granola bars when I walk back into the room.
When Matt's eyes meet mine, he looks down at the tiled floor, his cheeks turning a bright shade of scarlet.
"Sorry about that, Jen," he apologizes. "Won't happen again."
"It's fine," I tell him before quickly pecking Kyle on the lips and heading out the door, embarrassed, but no longer nervous.
—
Matt's sitting in the coffee shop when I walk in after class. He's sipping a cup of coffee and reading the business section of a newspaper.
"Since when do you drink that stuff?" I raise a challenging eyebrow. "And read anything other than the sports section?"
He scoffs. "Since my brother opened his own coffeehouse slash art gallery. I have to at least appear sophisticated in front of his employees."
I cross my arms over my chest and shake my head. "You're so lame."
"Kyle's upstairs in his office if you're looking for him," he divulges before returning to his newspaper. "You know, in case you didn't get your fill of him earlier."
I ignore his snide remark and plop down in the brown leather seat across from him. "Why are you here?"
"Just thought I'd pay my older brother a visit," he lowers the newspaper so I can see his coppery brown eyes.
"Because?"
"Because our mom is dying and he won't let her apologize," he answers.
