I close my eyes, biting my bottom lip as I hold in a moan. How am I supposed to explain to them that I’m not afraid of them, and that’s what’s terrifying?
I’m not scared of them. For the first time in years, I want something, want to open myself up. Yet once I do, once they realize how broken I am, they’ll leave. Everyone leaves. I’m standing on a raft in the middle of the ocean and they are asking me to trust them that they will keep me safe. But there’s nothing holding the planks together. I’ve been here before. The raft is destined to break. There’s no stopping it. Yet, I’m so far out, I’m not sure I could swim back to shore if I even knew what direction to head.
“Asra,” he whispers my name, jolting me out of my thoughts. Cupping my chin, he kisses my forehead, then the tip of my nose. It’s all so sweet, so sensual.
But I’m not the girl they think I am. I can never be that person. I can’t do normal things.
I jump up, nearly knocking them both over. “I . . . I can’t do this.” Without looking back, I dart down the stairs of their deck and rush over to my house.
Hurrying across my porch, I burst inside and slam the door shut. My fingers shake as I turn the lock, then slide down to the floor. With a heavy sigh, I run my fingers through my hair, then bang my head against the door.
It takes two solid minutes for the tears to start. I’m not normal. I can’t ever be normal.
Chapter 11
Brendan
“Stop thrashing.”
I grunt instead of a response. I haven’t slept a wink all fucking night. Not with the way this evening went down.
I replay the events for the hundredth time, zeroing in on little Prude’s lips pressed against mine. And I’m back to being rock-hard. I swear, this is the worst case of blue balls I’ve ever had.
I’d rub one out if I wasn’t sure how Breckin would feel about that. Sharing a woman is one thing. According to his stuck up ass, though, whipping my dick out any other time is out of the question. I could go next door, take a cold shower or four. But I don’t think that’d do anything, not knowing the reason for this ache is sleeping just feet away. I wonder if she sleeps naked?
“Seriously, some of us have to think in the morning.” He throws a pillow at me.
I catch it and shove it under my head. “Go fuck yourself, I think plenty.”
“Yeah,” he laughs, “but not about work.”
I chuckle. The only thing I’m going to be thinking about all week is that brunette next door. Maybe all month. I still can’t believe she broke that fast.
Yesterday morning, before I realized she dumped two packs of wet TP in my tool box again along with probably a bucket of water and locked my keys inside it for the second time, we had a long chat about her. We both agreed we were doing things different this time. Coming out from the very beginning, that she was getting both of us. No way either of us want a repeat of Carissa. It crushed my brother when she rejected me. Sure, she was all about the extra fun in the bedroom, but that’s all I was to her, a toy to add when she felt like it. As much as her bitter words stung me, those barbs did ten times the damage to Breckin. Then, there was the aftermath. I shiver, refusing to even think about it. No way we’re ever going back down that road. So after we both admitted to wanting our little neighbor enough to try, we decided the only way to win her over was if Breckin broke the ice first. Damn, though, I didn’t imagine he’d get her that fast.
“How long you think we should wait?” I blurt into the dark.
“Never.”
“A day? Two days?”
“You seriously want to talk about this right now?” He groans, his voice still groggy with sleep.
I shrug even though it’s too dark for him to see it. “We’re both up.”