They have an interesting friendship, that’s for sure. From what I’ve seen, their time spent together is generally filled with biting insults and complaints about the opposite sex, yet it’s clear that they’re close.

“You’re up, bro.” Teddy motions to Justin.

For a second I wonder if Justin’s going to play along. He’s usually not into Teddy’s games, but after a pause, he opens his mouth to speak.

“If you receive one, you better give two back,” Justin says.

Sara and I both grin. She raises her glass. “Here, here. Now that’s my kind of man.”

Teddy rolls his eyes. “Fine Justin, since you’re all about doubles, why don’t you give us one more.”

Once again Justin considers before he speaks, taking his time, and I’m not certain he’s going to oblige, but then he does. “Absolutely nothing is hotter than a confident girl who makes the first move.” Justin looks right at me as he says this and tingles race down my spine. Is he referring to earlier when I groped him under the table? Even though he made me stop, maybe he did appreciate my initiative? I’m really not sure, but I hope to find out later.

Sara signals our server for another round, and then leans forward like she’s about to let all of us in on a secret. “I’ve got one. Women have two types of crushes. The first? Damn he’s hot, I want to bang it out with him. And the second… Damn he’s everything, I want to marry him.”

“Men are the exact same way,” Teddy says.

Everyone goes quiet for a second and I want to look to Justin to see his reaction, but I lose my nerve and then a second later, his phone is buzzing and he’s fishing it from his pocket.

“It’s Owen,” he announces, looking down at the screen with a puzzled expression.

“What’s wrong?” I lean closer, stealing a peek at his phone.

Sex emergency, dude. 911.

I frown as Justin begins typing out a reply. What in the world would constitute as a sex emergency?

No condoms? Justin replies.

Worse. Can you come over here?

Now?

Right fucking now.

Justin and I exchange a curious look before his phone pings again.

ASAP. Fucking hurry.

My stomach turns and I start to feel worried. Justin and I make eye contact again, but he just shrugs.

“I have no idea what’s going on, but maybe we should go?”

I nod just as an address appears on his screen.

Justin removes his wallet from his pocket and leaves some cash on the table, enough to cover both of our drinks plus a generous tip.

“Where are you two kids off to?” Becca asks, voice slightly suspicious. I’m sure she’s thinking we’re taking off to hookup. Sadly, that’s not the case.

“We have to go get Owen out of some jam,” I say.

Becca frowns. “Is everything okay?”

Justin looks down at his phone again and whatever he sees on the screen makes him shudder. Okay that is just weird, because I’ve never once in my entire life seen Justin shudder.

“It’s some type of sex emergency,” I whisper toward Becca.

“How exactly does one have a sex emergency?” Becca asks, loud enough for the entire table to hear.

God bless drunk Becca. The girl has absolutely zero filter.

Teddy’s the one that answers. “It’s Owen, the dude’s inventive, what can I say?”

“Elise?” Justin asks and my gaze swings over to his. “We better go.”

“Right.” I nod.

I give Becca and Sara a quick hug.

“Call me later,” Becca requests just before Justin and I head out.

I can tell she’s curious about what’s happening, but honestly so am I, in a slightly morbid kind of way, because Owen is my brother, and there’s a solid chance that once I find out whatever this emergency is, I’ll be scarred for life. God, the things you do for family…

Since we’d planned to spend the night out drinking, neither of us has a car, and we have to catch a ride over to the address Owen indicated, but it doesn’t take us long to arrive since there’s no real traffic this time of night.

The car rolls to a stop in front of a brick apartment building, and while it doesn’t look like anything sinister, I’m suddenly even more worried than I was before.

“Is he okay? I’m kinda scared to go in there,” I say in a tentative voice to Justin as we step out of the car and onto the curb.

Justin chuckles, the sound low under his breath. “He’s fine. He’s a fucking idiot, but he’ll live.”

I swallow, and nod. Then I feel Justin’s hand close around mine and we start up the stairs for the third floor. It’s chilly out tonight and the staircase is open to the elements, so I pull my fleece jacket tighter around my body as we trudge up the steps.

We stop in front of apartment 316 and Justin knocks twice on the door before pushing it open.

The living room is empty, just a lonely beige-colored couch facing a flat screen TV. There’s a scratching post for a cat, and then an orange tabby cat appears from around the corner, eyeing us with curiosity.

This is so freaking weird.

“Justin? That you?” Owen’s voice calls out from a back bedroom.

“Yeah. It’s me and Elise is here too.”

“Fuck.” Owen curses from the other room. “She needs to wait outside.”

Justin’s gaze swings over to mine. “Well, you heard the man.”

What are we doing here? Part of me doesn’t want to know, and the other half of me is dying to find out what my old brother has gotten himself into this time.

“Stay put, okay?” Justin says, releasing my hand with a faint squeeze.

I nod, feeling slightly terrified and slightly amused.

Justin disappears inside the bedroom and his sharp bark of laughter is immediate, followed by the sound of groaning. I hear them exchange a few words, but can’t make out what’s being said. That might be for the best, because I’m not sure I want to know what my big brother has gotten himself into this time.

When Justin emerges a few minutes later, Owen trails behind him, buttoning his jeans and throwing his sweatshirt on over his head.

Owen won’t meet my eyes, and I have the strangest feeling that something bad happened to him. As we follow Justin to the front door, I jog to catch up to him, touching his shoulder until he turns to face me.

“What happened, Owen? Is everything okay?” I ask.

Owen’s expression is more somber than I’ve ever seen it. “I feel violated.”

Justin chuckles. “Pretty sure you got what was coming to you.”

“What the hell is going on?” I press again for details, but they’re both moving again and I’m left with no choice but to follow.

“Let’s never speak of that again,” Owen says, closing the door behind us.

“Roger that,” Justin agrees as we begin descending the stairs.

21

* * *

First Times

Elise

Do you have a waffle maker?

I stare down at the text from Justin and frown. Is this some sort of strange sexual innuendo that I’m not familiar with? It wouldn’t surprise me. I’m not exactly hip on all the lingo. I recall a conversation with Sara and Bailey once where my horizons were broadened to say the least. Who knew there were so many euphemisms for lady parts? Pink taco. Fur burger. Muff. Bearded Clam. The Notorious V. A. G., Red Wagon. Sheesh, that was a hilarious night. Pushing the thoughts away, I shake my head and begin to compose my response.

I don’t think so.

Okay. No problem. See you in 15.

Maybe it wasn’t sexual after all. Maybe he’s just craving waffles and I’m reading way too much into everything. Either way, I have fifteen minutes to ready myself until he arrives, and since it’s not enough time to take a leisurely bath like I wanted to, I pile my hair into a bun, and take the world’s fastest shower, still managing to wash and shave all the important parts somehow in under eight minutes. I’ve dressed in black leggings and a cream-colored t-shirt when my intercom buzzes.

He’s here.

I pull my hair out of its bun and shake it out around my shoulders so my waves fall back into place.

It’s been a long week of work for me and brutal practices for him, and now it’s Friday evening and I have Justin all to myself until tomorrow. I’m practically giddy at the idea of that.

When I answer the door, he’s already smiling. All six foot two of him is happy and excited to see me, and just that secret knowledge does something to me.

“Hey, gorgeous.” His arms are filled with grocery bags, and I’m immediately suspicious.

“Hey. What’s all this?” I open the door wider and he steps inside.

“Just a few things I picked up.” He carries the bags into the kitchen where he begins unloading their contents onto the counters. It’s then that I notice a duffel bag is strapped around his chest.

I chuckle at the thought of him packing an overnight bag. Surely he didn’t bring pajamas, did he?

Across my counters are various items, bottles of champagne and red wine, a carton of chocolate covered strawberries and two dozen of the biggest pale pink roses I’ve ever seen.

“What in the world?” I ask, grinning.