"Addi!" I squealed as she climbed into the truck and we proceeded to squeeze the life out of one another. She always seemed to bring out the kid in me, something I desperately needed. It didn't take Flor's constant nagging to remind myself that I could be a little too serious sometimes.
I pulled back and grinned at my best friend who returned the smile, holding my hands in hers as we passed silent signals to one another. We're finally out. We have our own place. This is going to be fucking awesome. I think I also detected a slight twitch of her brow and a little, you better not still be on about that, bitch in regards to Florian, but I couldn't be sure. Maybe I was projecting? "I cannot even believe you're here." The words came out in a rush as I tilted my head back and stared up at the rusted white ceiling of the moving truck. No more hanging out with people I can barely stand, who use me to hang out with my brother, just so I can have a social circle. The thought that some of those same said people were going to the community college instead of to the university with me didn't escape my notice. It wasn't that I was reveling in being better than them, only that I knew how lazy most of them had gotten the last few years of high school.
"You better believe it," she said, pulling her hands from mine and poking me playfully in the shoulder. "Because I just drove halfway across the country to go to school with your ass – and be an Oregon Duck." Addi shivered, not at all impressed by our university's stellar football team. The only kudos she would grant them was that they'd made a pretty awesome parody video of Psy's song, Gangnam Style. "Now. Show me our new place, Abigail Sharp, or more specifically, the bathroom. I have got to piss like a racehorse."
"Classy, Addi," I said as I swept past her, still surreptitiously looking for the missing box. If Flor found it before I did, I could be in for a world of trouble; I'd never hear the end of it from him. "Nice to know you've matured well beyond the foulmouthed fifteen year old you once were." I gave her a wink while she simultaneously flipped me off, and jumped from the back of the truck, pausing to examine the two men waiting a respectful distance away from us. Addi climbed down next to me and elbowed me in the side with a Flor-worthy smirk plastered across her full mouth.
"What do you think?" she whispered, raising a dark brow and running her tongue along her lower lip as she gazed through lovestruck eyes at the man in the short sleeved white button-down. He had red curly hair and skin as milky white and pale as Addi's was rich and brown. I sat somewhere in between with skin the color of a really good caramel macchiato from Starbucks – with just a dash of extra cream. Or maybe that was my mind fantasizing about coffee again. Flor and I had yet to find the coffee maker his mother had bought for me and proudly loaded on the truck herself. She was as happy for me to start my life as she'd been for her own son. It made me feel almost guilty for checking out his beautiful butt no less than three times today.
"He's … " I struggled for the right word to describe Patrick Browne and decided an overly analytical dissertation on the looks of Addi's boyfriend would not be appropriate. I need to get out more. Luckily, Addi's arrival would pretty much guarantee that. "Gorgeous, babe," I told her, examining the splotch of freckles across her beloved's nose, and the way his skinny arms struggled with a box marked heavy as shit in scrawling black Sharpie. Okay, so maybe gorgeous wasn't exactly the right word, but what was I going to tell my best friend about the love of her life? I'd seen plenty of pictures of him and had always managed to avoid commenting on his looks. I'm such a shallow bitch, I thought as I smiled and wished I didn't have Florian around to compare every Tom, Dick, and Harry against. I decided to let my comment stand as is and moved on to checking out her boyfriend's brother when Flor stepped in front of me, arms crossed and smirking.
"Hey Addi," he said, giving her a friendly hug, that stupid smirk still stuck to his lips. "Hope your trip didn't suck too much dick." I cringed at Flor's crudeness, but at least I knew Addi was used to it. She looked Flor up and down and then smiled, not at all interested in him. It was one of the reasons we'd stayed so close all these years: she was one of the few girls I'd ever met who hadn't developed a crush on my stepbrother, and wasn't using me to get close to him. I knew for a fact that she didn't even find him attractive. For whatever reason, skinny Irish boys had always been Addi's thing. Maybe it was the accent? "Or should I say, hope you didn't suck too much dick during your trip." He nodded his chin at Addi's boyfriend, Patrick, and his brother.
"Nice to see you, too, Flor," she said evenly, "and nice to see you're still an annoying asshole." The two of them stared at each other for several long moments, the bad blood between them sizzling in the gentle autumn sunshine. Addi let her eyes swing over to mine. She knew how I'd once felt about him, even knew about the shrine and the missing box. And she'd never judged me for it, not once. I loved her for that. "Let me get the guys over here, so we can get the introductions out of the way. They're both shy by nature, so it might be awkward." She paused to give me another look, opening her brown eyes wide enough that I knew I was supposed to pay attention. The fact that they were rimmed in bright blue and silver eyeshadow didn't hurt either. "Just give 'em both a chance for me, okay?"
I nodded and Addi moved away to grab them. She knew how picky I was when it came to men. I tried not to pretend that growing up around someone like Florian hadn't gone and screwed it all up for me. He was tall and muscular, with full lips and hair as soft as silk that he barely styled but always managed to look good anyway. The scar on his chin was – for whatever reason – a big turn on for me and the myriad piercings and tattoos he'd collected over the years didn't hurt either. Plus, he worked at a tattoo shop and inked skin for a living. Somehow, football stars and science nerds and bankers and even CEOs … none of that did it for me. I think Flor, in our many years living together, had somehow infected me with this dangerous, funky streak that I didn't know how to express.
"She's setting you up?" he asked, face all a-scowl again. "On your moving day? What if this guy is a freak and he starts stalking you or something?" I ignored my brother's overprotective urges and tried to keep my mind from correcting me. Step. Stepbrother. Not brother. As if I needed to be reminded.
I reached back and scooped my hair into a messy ponytail, snapping a hair tie from around my wrist to hold it in place. Sweat was already beading on the back of my neck and my palms were moist with nervous energy. I closed my eyes for a brief second, pretending Flor's body heat wasn't warm and comforting against my right arm.
"This guy is Addi's boyfriend's brother. She's known him for three years, Flor. Back off." I opened my eyes, plastered a welcoming smile on my face and moved forward to meet the guy. Flor's hand on my upper arm froze me in place. He'd been careful, ridiculously careful, not to touch me since the night we shared our single and only kiss. And I mean careful. He didn't push me playfully anymore after that, didn't grab my arm to stop me from leaving during a fight, didn't even let his leg brush mine when we sat in the back of a car together.
I looked over at him with a puzzled expression and found the same mirrored on his perfect face. He dropped his hand and stepped back.
"Abigail," Addi said, drawing my attention back around. I was sure my pupils were huge and my lips parted, that I looked half-paralyzed with the emotions that were boiling up in my belly. Well, maybe not emotions. Maybe they were hormones and maybe, just maybe, they weren't from my belly, but my – "This is Patrick's brother, Dorian." I reached out a hand, letting my eyes meet the new guy's. They were green, like Flor's, but not as intense, more like a new sprout than the thorn of a rose. I want to get punctured; I want to bleed.
I swallowed back the dark thoughts swirling in my brain.
"Nice to meet you," we said in unison and then smiled shyly. Flor was suddenly there at my shoulder, ruining the moment like he'd done so many other times with other boys. I swear, after that night, that kiss, he took up the brother mantle and he ran the gauntlet with it. He intimidated new dates, threatened exes, and essentially made my dating life a living hell. I was even under the suspicion that he still thought I was a virgin.