CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lane
My thoughts were spinning out of control, and I couldn’t stop them, couldn’t even slow them down enough to focus on one thing.
Isaac had kissed me. My best friend, my brother, the most important person in my whole fucking world had kissed me, and Christ, he was, wasn’t he? Isaac was the most important person in my life. He had been since I was fourteen years old, and he’d trusted me with his secrets. He’d kissed me, and I’d kissed him back before he told me he wasn’t my brother and it would have been just sex.
I shouldn’t be as hurt as I was about the brother comment. I knew Isaac loved me, knew we were family, and considering he’d had his tongue in my mouth and mine in his, being related was the last thing I should want. It was all so confusing, all these thoughts raining down on me while the taste of him was still on my tongue, the sunshine scent of him still in my nose, the feel of him and the way he’d breathed life into me, the way his body had relaxed as if he’d finally let go of the tension he’d always held inside himself.
But he was my brother…only he wasn’t…except that in the ways that mattered, he was.
And he’d just told me that all he wanted to do was fuck his way through life.
We didn’t speak as we made our way back to my car.
“Lane…”
I held up my hand, afraid of what he would say, afraid of what he wouldn’t, confused about the storm of thoughts and mixed-up emotions in my head, the ache in my heart. “I can’t right now.”
I also couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I was scared of what I would feel if I did.
Because no matter what Isaac had done, I’d kissed him back.
And it had felt…right.
My stomach twisted, knots tangling on top of each other. All I could think about was Mom…and Dad. We were a family, and Isaac had kissed me, and I’d liked it. I wanted to do it again.
The ride home was tense, the air thick around us. If I’d thought we’d been lost to each other before, it had nothing on this moment. We’d found our way back, everything falling into place, and then… It would have been just sex. It’s not like we’re real brothers.
My hands fisted on the steering wheel, my heart picking up speed as if I had my foot on the accelerator for that instead of the car.
The silence felt heavier and heavier, the drive longer than it should have. The second we got home, Isaac was out of the car. I shoved out too, just as he was walking away. “Isaac,” I called out. “Would you talk to me?” We had to figure this out. I caught up to him, reached for him, but he didn’t let me hold on.
“You’re the one who said you can’t do this right now.”
I had, and I wasn’t ready, but I didn’t want him to leave either. Because this was Isaac, and he was hurt…or angry. And he would go off and be pissed at himself. He’d lock it all inside until he exploded and pulled away even further.
“Because I don’t know what to say, Isaac. Can’t you understand what I’m feeling? We’ve called each other brother for the last sixteen years, and then you kiss me and tell me what? That you want to hook up? Just a little sex on the side between family or what? Jesus Christ, can you imagine what our parents would say if they found out? All for an orgasm?” And I liked it… Why did I like it?
His whole body tensed up, but his eyes, they darted away from me, his blink slower than it should be, before he shook his head. “I need to get out of here, Lane. Just let me go.”
I…had no reply for that. My head was a mess, and I didn’t know what I would say to him myself, so I took a step back. Isaac headed straight for his vehicle, and this time, I didn’t try to stop him. I just watched him go, wondering how in the fuck this happened, how our perfect day had turned into this.
I couldn’t say how long I stood there, in the middle of the parking garage, watching the spot where Isaac’s car had disappeared from, with the taste of him still on my lips.
Eventually, I headed for the elevator, typed the code in, and went to the condo. In that moment, it felt too quiet without him, too lonely. Why had he done that? Why had he fucked things up so badly? Why had he risked us?
I dropped the pack right inside the door. Even though he hadn’t asked me to, I’d promised him I would try to clean up after myself better. Isaac was so organized, and I…wasn’t, and yet…he hadn’t asked, and he didn’t complain other than to tease me, or that time I left a sock where we eat—and that, I could understand.
I walked into the living room, stopped in front of the sofa and stared at my painting on the wall…the only thing on any of Isaac’s walls. Nothing else, just a piece of art I’d put my heart into and had given to him.
My fingers went to my lips, touched them, traced them, as if I could feel him there.
Isaac had kissed me.
And I’d liked it.
Anger surged hot and thick inside me, filled me up and took me over because he’d fucking kissed me and I’d liked it. Because he’d ruined everything. Because I didn’t understand why he’d done it or what I was feeling, and I was scared, so fucking scared of losing him, this man who’d basically been the center of my universe since I was fourteen years old.
This man everyone saw as my brother.
The man I couldn’t ever lose.
The one who meant more to me than anything, who’d carved out his own place in my heart that no one could ever touch…
And I…didn’t know what to do with that. I didn’t know what I felt other than fear tangled with anger and want, so much fucking want that I thought I might crack apart and it would spill out of me. I wanted Isaac so goddamned much…I could hardly breathe, it hurt so bad.
Scenes flashed through my brain—growing up, the wedding, our nights in the attic, the years without being close to him. Isaac telling me he was gay and looking like he’d desperately needed me to be too. The feeling of letting him down when I hadn’t thought I was queer. The argument when I told him I was going to lose my virginity to Amanda. How badly I’d missed him when I left for New York. The photos of us on my nightstand in my apartment.
Isaac’s hatred of Jayden and how betrayed I’d felt when he hadn’t done something as simple as show up in the attic my first night home.
The way he made me laugh and smile and how my world wasn’t right when we were apart.
That my favorite place to be was in front of an easel, with Isaac watching me, or drawing him. How well I slept in bed with him.
Our hike.
My fingers twitched, so many feelings inside me, all begging to spill out of me, until I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I needed to let it out. I needed to paint.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Isaac
I was a fucking mess. My insides felt like I’d put them through a food processor. I didn’t know what to do, what to think, how to deal with the fact that I’d very likely not only lost Lane, but fucked things up in my family as well.
I needed to find a way to pretend this day had never happened.
I needed to forget.
So I’d taken the gym bag with clothes I kept in my car and gotten myself a hotel room. I couldn’t go home, home to where Lane was, because I’d kissed him, then told him I wanted to fuck him before running away. Great move.