The Home-wrecker (The Goode Brothers) -
The Home-wrecker: Chapter 19
Isaac’s knee knocks mine on the couch. When he turns toward me with a grin, I do my best not to look his way. His brother is in his room, but after the incident last week with Caleb walking in on us, I don’t feel comfortable doing anything here.
I already feel like Caleb might kick my ass if he sees me again. The look he gave me that night did not instill a lot of comfort. Before that night, I was sure Isaac could open up to his brother about being gay. Even if he couldn’t come out to his parents, at least he had his brother.
Isaac’s hand reaches for mine on my lap, but I jerk it away. “Your brother is home,” I mutter under my breath.
“So,” Isaac replies with a playful smirk.
“So, I don’t need him walking in on us again. This time, he will surely kick my ass.”
“He will not.” Isaac laughs.
“Did you see his face? He looked like he wanted to murder me.”
Isaac hangs his head back on the sofa. “He was just surprised.”
“Yeah, surprised to find his little brother making out with a guy,” I snap in return.
“You were the one who said he’d be cool with it,” he argues.
“Well, I was wrong.”
Isaac reaches for my hand again, intertwining our fingers as he rests his head on the couch and gazes at me through his thick lashes. My resolve starts to fade the more he looks at me like that.
“I don’t like pretending you’re just my friend,” he mumbles.
I roll my eyes, trying to keep my gaze focused on the Spider-Man movie playing on the TV. “You’re so dramatic.”
This makes him laugh as he launches himself at me, pressing his lips against my cheek. Turning my face toward him, I try my best to look stern, but it doesn’t work, and he launches again, this time pressing his lips to mine.
In the distance, a door closes. I shove Isaac off me and look toward the stairs. A moment later, Caleb appears, pauses near the bottom, and glares at me.
“What are you two doing?” he mutters angrily.
“Watching a movie,” Isaac replies casually.
Caleb stares at me for a moment, heat and anger in his eyes. “Isaac, your friend needs to go home.”
“What?” Isaac barks. “Why?”
“Because Mom and Dad said. You’re failing math, and they said no friends over.”
Bullshit. I know that’s utter bullshit, but Caleb can’t stand the thought of his brother with a guy, and he just wants to be rid of me.
“Isaac,” Caleb calls in frustration when he doesn’t respond.
“What is your problem?” Isaac groans.
“Mom and Dad are on their way home, and if they find you with a friend over, it’s going to be my ass.”
“Dude, you’re twenty-one. They can’t yell at you anymore.”
“Wanna bet?” Caleb shouts in return. “Tell your friend goodbye, now.”
“I’m out of here,” I say as I climb up from the couch.
“No, don’t go,” Isaac complains as he follows me toward the foyer.
“I should really go,” I say when I reach the door.
Isaac turns back to his brother with an expression of resentment on his face. “Caleb, you’re such a dick!”
My gaze connects with Caleb’s across the room, and it feels like we are the only two people in on the secret. I know exactly why he’s kicking me out. It’s not because he doesn’t like me or Isaac is grounded.
It’s because Caleb is no better than his father.
Present Day
Which one of them will knock on my door first? That’s the real question tonight as I lie on the couch, wishing I had picked up an extra client this week to at least have an excuse to get out of here.
It’s nearly eleven, and I know one of them will come knocking at any moment. It’ll either be Briar, reeling from her desire and guilt, wanting to hash out her identity crisis with me as if it’s my fault.
Or it’ll be Caleb coming here to threaten some answer out of me. Or maybe just get in my face again because he seems to love that.
Either way, I can’t quite figure out how I ended up here. Stuck in some married couple’s quarrel—and not just any couple. This is the marriage of the man I hate. The only thing more confusing than that is the question of why I don’t just leave.
Because I want them to knock. I want to see their faces. I want to feel a part of whatever it is they have going on.
And that’s fucking stupid. I shouldn’t want to be a part of their marriage. I really shouldn’t give a shit what they have to fight about. That’s between them. It has nothing to do with me.
Today with Briar was just about revenge—at least it was supposed to be. But I’d be lying if I said the exhilaration of running out of that museum together and getting her alone in that elevator didn’t feel like the most exciting thing I’ve done in months. Pressing her against the wall had my dick more interested than it’s been in a long time.
Briar is so refreshing. She’s nothing like I first expected, but I suspect that beneath that good-girl, sweet, suburban facade is a woman dying to feel desired. Does Caleb not make her feel that way? The taste of her skin is still on my tongue, and every time I lick my lips, I pick up a hint of that delicate perfume she wore.
I must drift off to the memory of that kiss when a knock at the door wakes me—a heavy knock.
With a wicked smirk, I climb off the couch and walk over to answer it. My smile grows as I pull the door open, revealing a very disgruntled-looking Caleb.
“Can I help you?” I ask, leaning on the doorframe.
He shoves me into the apartment and slams the door behind him. “What did you do to her?” he snaps.
Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I keep my cool as I reply, “Nothing she didn’t want.”
“You motherfucker,” he replies with a growl. The next thing I know, I’m shoved against the wall, and Caleb’s sneering face is in mine.
So predictable.
“That was the deal, right? You told me I couldn’t get your wife to want me, but guess what? It only took me one day. I touched your wife today. What are you going to do about it?”
Caleb’s large hand is wrapped around my throat, although he’s not squeezing enough to cut off the airflow. He pulls my body from the wall and slams it back like some angry gorilla. My head smacks the drywall, but not enough to knock me out. It knocks the wind out of me, but I’m aware that if he really wanted to hurt me, he would.
“I never told you to touch her,” he mutters angrily.
“Then you should have laid out the rules of our wager because they were a little unclear.”
“She’s upset,” he replies. “Did you hurt her?”
My brow furrows. “Fuck no, I didn’t hurt her,” I reply, shoving him away, but he doesn’t budge.
There are only inches between his body and mine, and his presence is so overwhelming I can smell his cologne and make out the gold flecks in his eyes.
I don’t bother fighting back, and maybe he expects me to. But this fucker isn’t going to really hurt me. He’s just trying to intimidate me; if we’re honest, I love it. Makes me feel alive.
“Tell me exactly what happened,” he says in a deep grumble.
“Can you let go of my throat?” I ask.
“No.”
“Fine,” I reply with a smirk. “But you should be careful. I normally get turned on by this sort of thing.”
I expect him to react, but he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes narrow and he glares at me expectantly.
“I kissed her, and she let me. That’s all. The second things got too heated, she freaked out and pushed me away.”
Caleb’s expression turns contemplative, lips pressed together tightly. “You made the move, and she turned you down.”
I let out a chuckle. “She wanted it.”
“Clearly not,” Caleb replies. The hold around my neck loosens, but his body still has me pinned against the wall.
“Believe what you want,” I say with a chuckle.
My hand is on his chest, and my attempt to shove him is futile. He doesn’t budge an inch. Instead, his body only crowds mine more. That’s when I feel a bulge in his pants that makes my eyes widen.
He freezes.
At first, I think it is his dick, but I shift enough to tell that it’s not the right shape or place to be his cock. But he’s clearly uncomfortable anyway, which piques my interest.
“What is this?” I ask in a teasing tone.
We’re staring into each other’s eyes as I reach down to inspect what is currently pressed against my upper thigh. As my hand pats his pocket, he tries to pull away, but not before I can yank out whatever he’s hiding there.
The teasing grin on my face fades when I take in the familiar sight and feel of my own underwear.
What the…fuck?
Almost immediately, my gaze snaps back up to his face. He’s still staring at me, his jaw tight and his eyes narrowed.
Isn’t he going to explain himself? Make up some stupid fucking story that explains why he would be stashing away my underwear? They got caught in the laundry together. He thought they were his own. Something.
But he doesn’t. He just stares at me. Almost as if…he wants me to know he has them for a reason.
Well, isn’t this an interesting new development?
Pressing my lips together, I ball the underwear in my fist as I take a silent step toward him. He starts to back up, but I wordlessly grab the belt of his pants, tugging him toward me.
Immediately, his hands go to my chest to push me away, but I don’t move to touch him again. I just shove the underwear back in his pocket.
Our eyes meet in a loaded gaze.
Then I release his belt and step away. He takes that as his sign to leave and does so quickly, making it to the door before he pauses and turns back toward me.
“If you hurt my wife, I’ll kill you,” he mutters quietly.
“Noted,” I reply, although he really didn’t need to tell me that. I have no intention of hurting anyone.
The door closes loudly as he leaves, and I’m left alone in my apartment. A smile pulls across my face as I let everything hit me at once. What the fuck just happened?
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