An Illicit Pursuit (11 page)

“I didn’t have much time to hang around. Mom
kept me busy for the better part of the trip.”

He’s obviously lying. Hadn’t he just made a
comment about some hot girls to Adam before he noticed me?

Golden! There’s definitely something going on
between the two. The handsome best friend of the older brother. The
cute younger sister of the best friend. I wish I could find out
what went on between the two. Maybe I could write a song about
them. Being within touching distance but aren’t able to or aren’t
allowed to feel each other.

You’re here, yet far away,

depriving me of the loving stares

you used to shower me everyday.

I wonder what Adam thinks of them. Most
likely he hasn’t noticed anything, though the not-so-subtle
electricity radiating between them is impossible to miss.

“Whatever.” Eleanor leaves as quickly and
silently as she came, and Jack remains staring after her. I wish I
could ask him what went on between them. Jack grabs a beer from the
fridge and settles on a chair beside the kitchen island, while I
busy myself placing the dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

“Adam tells me your boyfriend studies at
UCLA,” Jack says.

I pull my eyebrows together and nod. “That’s
right.” He indeed has heard a lot about me.

“Are you two… serious?” he asks. In normal
circumstances I’d reply him, “None of your business,” but the
apologetic and earnest look on his face makes me think he’s not
asking it out of nosiness but to protect his friend.

“Yes, we are, but go and try to explain it to
Adam.”

His lips curl up to a smile, though the rest
of face looks stiff. “He’s dead-set on getting you.” His honesty is
refreshing, making me marvel at the type of relationship he has
with Adam.

When I’m done with the dishes, Adam emerges,
showered and changed into a white, button-up shirt with sleeves
rolled up to his elbows and blue jeans. I can’t help but stare at
him, although I’m sure Jack is clearly studying my evident
gaping.

Among the six outfits I’ve seen on Adam, this
is by far the best. Even better than the jersey he looked so wildly
sexy in during the basketball game. White brightens up the tan of
his skin, the black of his hair, the hazel of his eyes, and this
particular white shirt is revealing enough to leave none of the
stuffed muscles underneath to imagination. To top it off, the clean
smell of soap sans his usual cologne causes my stomach to flutter,
much to my annoyance. How he looks or smells shouldn’t matter to
me. If anything, it should repulse me, particularly when my Zach is
suffering for his parents. I’m the worst girlfriend possible in the
whole wide world.

I gulp down hard, forcing myself to rip my
abusive stare from his chest, where his shirt is undone and some
smooth skin is showing. He’s enjoying being under the spotlight and
more than that, having me gawk at him, and I can’t help but give
him that pleasure.

“Pat,” Nikki calls from the living room.
“Want to see some super embarrassing pictures of Adam when he was a
teenager?”

I raise my eyebrows, unable to hide the smile
of satisfaction forming on my lips. Wouldn’t that upgrade the great
evening to perfection? “Nothing can stop me.” I stride around the
kitchen island, only to be stopped at the doorway.

“Nikki, which pictures are those?” Adam
yells, standing in front of me to block my way out of the
kitchen.

“Of you with braces and lots of acne,” Nikki
answers and Brendie laughs.

I have to see them. “Let me go.” I push him
with my hands against his chest, but when he doesn’t budge. I try
to sneak under his arms. He gently holds my bare shoulders with
both hands to stop me. Working hard not to let his touch affect me,
I put on my deadly serious face and grab his forearms. “You know
what? I’ll just leave if you don’t let me see the pictures.”

He inhales a long breath of defeat and throws
his head back, before releasing me. I head to the living room but
see Jack punching Adam in the shoulder from the corner of my eyes
and hear him whisper, “Man, get a room.”

I’m not hundred percent sure I’ve heard it
right but Adam’s response is, “Very soon.”

Dream on!

I sit on the couch beside Nikki, who’s
holding the photo album, and Adam squeezes himself into the small
spot between me and the arm of the couch, yet manages to leave
enough space between us so we’re not touching. We may not have any
physical contact, still his scent is trailing over my arms,
brushing my belly, grabbing my breasts, licking my throat, and
massaging me between my legs. His allure multiplies tenfold with
the close distance, making me want to close that tiny but
significant space between us and to reach out directly for his
lips.

I barely notice Jack sitting in a chair
beside Adam and across from Eleanor. For now, Adam’s erotic power
is so undeniable, I couldn’t care less about the possible love
connection between another couple.

“Here, he was thirteen,” Nikki’s voice
distracts me enough to turn my attention to the album in her
lap.

“No way.” I smirk at the innocent boy holding
both Nikki and Brendie on his back. In the next picture, the girls
are strangling him playfully on the green grass. In another one,
the three of them are playing ball in the swimming pool. The more
pictures we go through in the thick album, the clearer it becomes
to me that Adam and the twins spent an awful lot of time together,
doing all sorts of things kids love to do. And one picture where
the maybe-eight-year-old Adam is feeding the toddler twins has me
dropping my jaw. “Looks like you three love to hang out together,”
I point out as I turn the page and find yet another picture of the
three musketeers alone, as if they didn’t have another member in
their family. Apparently, Adam isn’t some obtrusive, restrictive
older brother I imagined him to be but an attentive and loving
care-taker.

“We used to,” Nikki corrects me. “Then, he
turned into an asshole.”

Brendie, who’s been silently sitting on the
other side of Nikki bursts into a loud laugh.

I glance at Adam to see what he’s got to say
and see him rolling his eyes. “Hey, no cursing. Ungrateful brats. I
had to feed you breakfast, lunch, and dinner until you turned six
because you didn’t want to be fed by anyone else. Not to forget the
some five thousand diapers I had been forced to change.”

“I can attest to that.” Eleanor smirks. “Are
we going to waste the evening going through some old pictures and
talking about diapers? If you want that, then I’m off to my
room.”

“Let’s watch a movie,” Jack says, looking
toward Eleanor. “I brought some DVDs.” He gets up to bring a
plastic bag with DVDs and leaves them at the small table beside
Eleanor. “You can pick whichever you want.”

Eleanor browses through the DVDs and quickly
chooses an animated movie. The twins, who usually don’t shy away
from voicing their opinions about everything, don’t make any
comment this time about why Eleanor gets to choose.

As the oven alarm goes off, Adam rises to his
feet, and I follow him to help out.

“Do you hang out often with Nikki and
Brendie?” I ask as I seek trays large enough for pizzas.

Adam transfers the steaming pizzas onto the
trays I’ve found and grabs soda and beer from the fridge. “No, we
don’t do anything together, except for grocery shopping. Why?”

“But, you did seem to have spent a lot of
time with them when they were younger.”

He nods, cringing as if he’s tasted something
bitter.

“When did you stop spending time with them
and become an
‘asshole?’
” I use air quotas for the last
word, adding a sweet smile to soften my critique.

“I don’t remember exactly,” he says,
shrugging. “I guess since my mother’s surgery. It’s not just me,
though. They’ve changed a lot since they hit puberty.”

I raise an eyebrow, working to interpret the
difference in his expression. “I don’t want to sound judgmental or
nosy, but I think they need you. They had an obvious trauma with
the possibility of losing their mother. And losing you as a
frequent buddy added more to their problems. That might be the
underlying reason for their eating disorders.”

“So, what do you suggest Miss
not-just-a-talented-singer-but-also-a-psychologist-too?”

I snort. “Simple. Just spend some quality
time with them. Go out and have fun together.”

“Why don’t you just shoot me directly in the
head?” He places napkins and paper plates under his arms and
carries the trays to the living room. I serve beer and soda and
settle at my place between Nikki and Adam. Although my body
gradually relaxes with the food and the movie, the buzz from Adam’s
body continues its undeniable presence throughout the evening.

Adam walks me out when the movie is over and
opens the door of my car for me. “I thought about what you said,
and I think you’re right. I should spend more time with my sisters.
I have a basketball game tomorrow afternoon, and I’ll try to
convince the girls to come watch me, then take them out to wherever
they want.”

“Sounds like an awesome idea. I’m sure
they’ll love it. Try to cut down the caveman-older-brother attitude
a little bit, and it’ll be a definite success.”

“Caveman older brother? Me?” He smirks,
holding the door, and places his other hand on the top of the car,
cornering me into the small space between his torso and the
door.

I duck my head to enter my car but stop as
Adam’s hand finds its way to my arm. I inhale a sharp breath to
stifle the shiver his touch is giving me, trying to decide what to
do next. He promised he wouldn’t kiss me as long as I was with
Zach. Yet, he now may be thinking Zach isn’t around to erase the
bruising kiss he promised to give me. No, I shouldn’t think about
the kiss, or I won’t be capable of suppressing any kind of reaction
his presence is causing in my body.

“Pat,” he whispers, almost inaudibly, though
my heart shoots up as if he’d screamed into my ear. “Come with us.”
There’s begging in his voice. Is it because he won’t see me until
next Friday and he’s trying to take the advantage of my advice?
Does he care so much about me that the prospect of not seeing me
for six days bothers him to the degree of using his sisters as an
excuse to meet with me again? That can’t be it, can it?

“To the game? I don’t think it’ll qualify as
quality time for you and your sisters if I tag along.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s just the beginning.
They won’t want to come to the game with me alone, anyway.”

“That’s why you should promise to take them
to a place of their choice after the game.”

“I know where they’ll want to go. They’ve
been insisting on getting their arms waxed for longer than a month
now.”

“They want their arms waxed?” I force myself
not to look down to check how hairy my arms must be. Is it the
latest trend now? I’m too behind as far as fashion is concerned.
Perhaps that’s why I never get a real chance at proving my musical
talent. The producers can’t get past my too-pale and boring
exterior.

“Yeah, ridiculous, isn’t it? I need someone
solid with me to convince them that arm-waxing should be avoided at
all costs. Maybe, to scare them off, you can find a picture of a
woman who had her arms waxed and ended up being hairier than a
man.” The last words are mixed with his laughter.

I slap him in the chest. “Don’t make fun of
my methods.”

“I won’t if you agree to come with us
tomorrow.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“No. When you think about it, then the answer
is automatically a negative one. Please say yes now.”

“Okay, okay. When is the game?”

“At one thirty. I’ll come and pick you
up.”

I wave at him quickly and enter my car. He
waits by the door until I run the engine and winks at me as I
maneuver back to the street. I’m making yet another mistake by
agreeing to go out with him, with or without the twins.

Only when I arrive home, I realize I haven’t
checked my phone for several hours. Although I shouldn’t expect any
calls or texts from Zach, I can’t help but feel anxious when I fish
for my phone in my huge purse. My heart leaps to my mouth as I see
three missed calls from Zach and one from his home number.
Something must be up. I dial back Zach’s on the spot but get the
answering machine. Calling his home is a dead-end because no one
will answer it, considering Shabbat has already started.

I pace up and down the room, not knowing what
to do. If I hadn’t too busy flirting with Adam and had checked my
phone instead, I’d have seen Zach’s calls. I’ve been failure in
everything and now finally succeeded ruining my only healthy
relationship. I should have stayed in Denver, close to Zach,
supporting him in his hardest times, rather than losing time doing
nothing in Los Angeles. He’ll see through my weakness and finally
cave in to his mother’s preaching about leaving me,
the
shiksa
.

The room starts to spin, and I find myself on
the floor with a throbbing pain at the back of my head. What can I
do? How can I reach him, sooth his pain and convince him that I
love him? My phone rings and I jump to my feet, despite feeling
dizzy, and press answer.

It’s Zach and he’s crying. “He’s dead. My
father died.”

My heart hurts as though a double-edged sword
is stabbing at it. “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry. How did it
happen?”

“I don’t know. He looked fine and happy. We
had breakfast together, and then I went out for groceries. When I
came back, he was already dead.” Zach’s cries fill my ears, making
me wish I was with him.

Words, which have been my best friend and
inspiration, are now failing me. All I want is to hug him and dry
his tears with my kisses. That’s why I have to be near him. “I’m
coming back to Denver tonight.” And I’ve never been so sure about
something.