***12 Years Later***
"I'm going to kick his ass."
There is no doubt about it. James Patrick Townsend is the biggest dick to exist on the entire planet. Hell, probably the entire universe.
I fume as I bend into the back seat of my car, discovering yet another thong—this time wedged underneath the seat. Apparently, when your brother asks if he can borrow your car for the week because his is in the shop, it means he will treat it exactly as if it were his.
Hooking up in the backseat with random girls, included. No batteries required.
Boundaries. Bound-a-ries!
After tossing the newest find in the plastic bag with all the others, I let out a hot breath. I had no idea this was what he'd been using my car for until he threw me the keys this morning at breakfast.
"Thanks, Em. You were a real life saver this week," he had smiled charmingly my way while retreating up the stairs—my first indication that something was amiss.
"Oh, and by the way, I'll clean up the stuff in the backseat when I come back down. I had some business that needed attending to and it got a little... messy."
Of course, this got my attention. So, while Brother Dearest was in the shower, I popped out to where my car waited in the driveway to snoop. What James did on his own time was often a mystery to me and this business he was referring to...
It's times like this where I wished I wasn't so damn curious.
After another once-over of the backseat, I retreat out and slam the door, making a mental note to grab some Clorox wipes at the store today. I lug the plastic bag full of James's "business" up the stairs and stop in front of his door, listening for the sound of running water.
There it is.
I smile to myself and push open the door, humming quietly while I empty the bag of all seven pairs (one for each day he had borrowed my car) of underwear under the comforter and pillows on his bed. It's not much of a prank—just enough to let him know I know and to hopefully make him change his fucking sheets.
I slink out of the room right as the water shuts off.
James and I had been home for the holidays since the week before Christmas and had agreed to stay and house-sit for our parents as they went on their 26th wedding anniversary vacation during New Years, meaning we had seen more of each other in the past two weeks than the past four years. It's nostalgic to be back in our old childhood home as an adult, but I quickly began missing the personal space that I had grown accustomed to when living alone.
Hopping back in my car, I set off towards the grocery store, mentally cringing every time I think I've felt something sticky.
***
I park my modest Kia Optima in the first available parking stall and glance in the rear-view mirror at my reflection. I hadn't bothered to wash my long golden hair this morning and it looked like it could definitely use a good dose of dry shampoo. My green eyes look tired, my skin quickly losing the slight tan I had gotten over the summer.
I glance away from the mirror and put my hair up into a messy bun atop my head—glamour be damned. I'm at the grocery store and it's the Saturday after Christmas, plus the likelihood of running into someone I know is slim to none.
If no one saw me looking like a limp biscuit then it was like it never happened, right?
Hopping out of the driver's side, I sling my cross-body purse over my shoulder, make my
way across the parking lot, and pass through the sliding doors of the grocery store. Warm air blasts me in the face as I enter, a stark change from the 30 degree weather outside.
Milk, eggs, paper towels, chicken breast, potatoes...
I mentally go over my list as I casually stroll from aisle to aisle, grabbing the things I need, and more than a few extras along the way. When I get to the aisle with the cleaning supplies, I make a beeline for the disinfectant wipes, shuddering at the thought of having to wipe down my entire car. I throw two containers in my basket—there isn't a chance in hell that I'm going to miss a single surface.
My phone chimes from my purse a few times in a row—ding, ding, ding-ding. I shift the basket from one hand to the other and pull the device out.
New Messages:
James - Found your surprise
James - Pick up some Doritos? I'm having Moose and Russel over tonight
Mom - Just checked in for our flight! Love you, both!
I open the message from Mom first and type a quick response. Our parents had left for the airport early this morning for their anniversary trip to New Zealand while I was stuck digging underwear out of my center console.
Love that for me.
To James, I send the finger emoji. Moose and Russel were sweet guys, but the three of them together always ended in some sort of disaster. I'm not looking forward to their shenanigans after the morning I just had.
I check off all the other grocery items on my list before grabbing a few bags of Doritos and heading to self-checkout, ready to be out of the supermarket and home so I can Clorox the ever-loving shit out of my car.
After quickly bagging my items and paying, I make a beeline for the exit, stopping just outside the doors with a wide smile on my face. Thick, white snowflakes are beginning to fall, making the drab parking lot look way too magical to be real. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs up with the crisp, bitingly cold air.
Winter is the superior season, all other seasons be damned.
***
"You smell like a frat boy," I grimace, pushing away the third overly-cologned man of the night and squeeze my way out of the living room.
"Moose and Russel" quickly turned into a house party with so many people that it felt like you had to be Moses in order to get from one end of the room to the other. Though I'm feeling a good buzz, I definitely need another drink.
James hasn't made an appearance in over an hour, but I know better than to look for him—I'm not trying to see anymore thongs today.
I push my way to the kitchen and grab a hard seltzer from the first open box on the counter, not caring the brand or flavor. Pulling the tab, I lean against the counter and bring the can to my lips, taking a large swig and closing my eyes.
Someone had selected an EDM playlist and was playing it through the surround sound speakers in the living room. The music is quiet enough that I know our neighbors won't complain, but loud enough that I feel it reverberate through my chest as I lean against the cold granite. I let myself sway to the beat as I start to feel the past couple drinks catch-up to me.
At 22, I'm not much of a drinker, mostly just on weekends or special occasions. Being back in Seattle is a special occasion, however, seeing as I had all but ran out of town the second I turned 18. I love this city, but there were certain things—or people, rather—that make home a daunting place in my mind.
"Em! Emmie! Earth to Emma!" I jump and my eyes shoot open, quickly landing on my brother's friend, Moose, standing in front of me. He gives me a lopsided grin, clearly amused.
"Were you asleep just now?" He chuckles, raising a brow and moving his hand past my hip to reach into the seltzer box behind me. I scoot my body along the counter to the left to give him more room.
"No, just thinking. It's a trip being back here after so long," I admit.
He nods and throws his empty beer can towards the trash like a basketball. The can bounces against the edge, but still ends up flopping into the bin. Moose gives a low whistle and turns back to me, popping the tab on his next drink.
"I can understand that, though I never left. Seattle can be a lot sometimes. How's Portland treating you?"
I shrug and take another gulp of my drink. Portland wasn't much better, but I couldn't move too far away from my parents and brother. As much as I wanted to get away, they always kept me close.
"Portland is Portland. Jobs' going well, I have a close group of friends, and I have time to do my hobbies. I really couldn't ask for more—except maybe a sugar daddy," I wink.
Moose takes half a beat to determine if I'm serious or not, before concluding I'm not and begins laughing. I quickly join in, grateful to the alcohol for making it easy to let loose and joke around.
"If you find one, let me know—life is tough out here in these streets and I have zero standards as long as I'm getting paid. I draw the line at feet pics, though," he deadpans, causing me to pause for a second as my brain slowly processes his words so now I can determine if he was actually serious.
Fuck it, I think and begin laughing anyway.
He grins, letting me know I made the right call. I grin widely back, swaying my body to the music once more. For a second his brown eyes seemed to darken slightly and hungrily look me up and down, but my hazy brain isn't able to fully comprehend the movement.
Oh well, I mentally shrug, Moose has been a friend for several years and obviously sees me as a sister, my sex-deprived self is definitely just imagining it.
“Feet pics is a weird place to draw the line. What's wrong with snapping a few photos of your toes and making money off of them? There are worse things, my friend," I wink.
Moose makes a face, furrowing his brow and pretending to be lost in thought. "And why should I trust you?” He questions. “Hypothetically, of course."
I raise my eyebrows and take another sip, drawing out my response. "Hypothetically..." I begin, suddenly feeling feisty, lowering my voice and leaning towards his ear.
He bobs his head down, making it easier for me, but still requiring me to pop onto my tiptoes to get close enough.
"Hypothetically, you should trust me... because..." I pause, enjoying the suspense of making him wait for an answer. He is close enough that I'm inhaling his cologne with each breath I take. It's pleasantly faint and slightly spicy, mixing in with the smell of cigarettes from his breath.
"James!" A deep, rough voice cuts through the noise of the party and causes me to yank myself back from Moose's ear, eyes searching for whoever it belongs to.
Even with my vision swimming, I immediately locate the owner of the voice standing in the doorway to the backyard, indicating he had just come in from outside. He’s tall, with jet black hair and a 5-o'-clock shadow sprouting on his strong jawline. High check-bones, full lips, with eyes a startling golden-honey color. There’s a scowl on his face as he scans the kitchen, no doubt searching for my older brother.
What the hell did he get himself into this time?
As his gaze settles towards me, I suddenly feel the urge to hide well-up inside me. Panicking, I bury my face into Moose's chest, thankful he is standing between me and the man in the doorway.
Moose tenses up, caught by surprise at my actions before chuckling and placing a hand on my hip, oblivious to my panic. "If you wanted a hug, you could have just asked," he whispers, lips close to my ear.
I force myself to laugh quietly while also straining my hearing to listen for the man at the doors' footsteps as he made his way across the kitchen. I don't dare look up, something screaming in the back of my mind to not let him see me.
***
