Can't Let You Go: A Wheeler Brothers Novel (19 page)

Back in high school, Jen and I would either make our own pizza bagels or get frozen ones. The frozen ones weren't very good so were reserved for emergencies only, like late night cravings.

"We're going all out. Making our own. So which do you want? Bagels or English muffins?"

"Bagels. Totally. I never liked the English muffins."

"You didn't? Then why did you eat them?"

"Because I thought
you liked them."

"I hated them. I only ate them because I thought
you
liked them."

She laughs. "So we both ate what we didn't like just because we thought the other person did?"

"I guess. Anything else you didn't like?"

"Hmm." She taps her finger on her lips as she thinks, then jumps in her seat. "Oh! When you mix cherry syrup with your Mountain Dew. It's too sweet."

"It's
my
drink. I can mix it however I want. If you'd stop drinking my pop and get your own it wouldn't bother you."

"I knew you didn't like it when I did that," she mumbles.

"Jen, I'm kidding. If it makes you happy, I'll stop adding the syrup."

"No, you're right. I should get my own drink. I shouldn't keep drinking yours." She looks out the side window.

"Hey." I reach over and take her hand. "I like it when you drink my pop. It's our thing. You've been doing it forever. Just like you've been stealing my french fries forever."

She looks back at me and cracks a smile. "I do not steal your french fries."

"Really? So how do you explain what happens to them when I get up from the table to get some ketchup and come back to find half my fries gone?"

"Half? There's no way I eat half!"

I smile. "So you admit to eating them?"

"Okay, fine, I have a few but not half. But I'll stop doing that too." She pulls her hand from mine and when I take it right back, she asks, "What are you doing?"

"Your hands are cold. I'm warming them up." They
are
cold but I also just want to hold her hand. Friends can hold hands, right? It doesn't have to mean anything.

"I should've packed some gloves. I can't believe I need gloves in the middle of March. Look at the sky." She points to the gray clouds. "I bet we get snow tonight."

"At least you don't have class tomorrow. Got any plans?"

"I'm going to work on my paper. I just want to get it done. It only has to be a few pages. It shouldn't take long."

"What about the rest of the week?"

"I'll spend some time looking for jobs, and hopefully apply for some. Graduation is only two months away. I need to find a job."

Every time she brings that up my chest tightens and my stomach knots, knowing she could be leaving soon.
 

There's a grocery store up ahead and I pull into the lot and park. "Since you're staying with me all week, you might as well get whatever you want to eat so we don't have to come back here later."

"Okay." She hops out of the truck and I meet up with her and we go inside.

I get us a cart but then she gets her own.

"We only need one cart," I say, taking hers and putting it back with the rest.

"But when we go to pay I'll—"

"I'm paying for it. Don't worry about it."

"Bryce, I'm not making you pay for my groceries."

"You're not making me. I want to. Now hurry up so we can get home. I'm starving."

"You're always starving." She goes in the first aisle, which is the cereal aisle. "The usual?"

"Yeah. And load up the cart. I haven't been shopping for a while. I've got nothing to eat."

Jen and I eat the same cereals. Sugary kid cereals that we probably shouldn't eat anymore but we both still do. We basically eat the same foods, which are the foods we grew up eating at my parents' house. Jen was over there so much that she ate whatever my mom bought.

"You know that's not enough." I point to the three boxes of cereal in the cart. "I eat half a box at a time."

"Then how many do you want?"

"At least ten boxes."

"I can't believe you still eat that much." She tosses some more boxes in the cart. "It's not like you're still growing."

"I burn a lot of calories doing construction all day. And I've been training with Austin at the gym. Speaking of that, I should get some protein powder. Austin won't shut up about my diet. I told him I'm not eating cans of tuna but I agreed to make protein shakes."

She pulls the cart to the end of the aisle and grabs a loaf of bread and the bagels, then peers in the cart. "What else should we buy?"

"Cheese. Pepperoni. Pizza sauce. Come on, Jen. You know what we need."

"I know. I'm just tired from last night. The whole no-heat thing really messed me up. I didn't get much sleep."

"You'll sleep well tonight. I turned the heat up for you."

"It doesn't need to be that hot. I was almost sweating last night. Of course that could've been because you were giving off so much body heat." She shoots me a smile as she goes past me to get the pizza sauce.

As I push the cart forward, my mind wanders back to last night. Sleeping next to her, her body all over mine, was more than I could handle. I kept wanting to kiss her, and touch her. And I'm pretty sure I had a sex dream about her.

We can't sleep together again. It's too tempting. Tonight I'll be sleeping on the couch.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Jen

We get back from the store and I make our pizza bagels while Bryce puts the groceries away. We've never gone grocery shopping like that before. We've gone to the store and picked up a frozen pizza or some bags of chips, but we've never done real shopping for an entire week. It made me feel like we're a couple. A real couple, and not just friends.

This week is going to be strange. Living with Bryce? Just the two of us? I don't know how this is going to work. I'm completely turned on by him and have been for years, and I know he's attracted to me, so how are we going to get through this week without something happening? If something
does
happen, will it change our friendship? Or end it? That's always been a concern of ours, which is why Bryce and I never dated in high school. If we'd dated and broken up, I don't think we would've stayed friends. But we're older now and more mature. I feel like we could move on from being in an intimate relationship and go back to being friends. Or maybe I just tell myself that because it's what I want.

"What do you think?" I ask as we eat our pizza bagels at the breakfast bar.

"Just as good as in high school." He looks down at his chest. "Shit. I forgot to change. I'll be right back."

"Bryce, you don't have to—" I stop because he's already in the bedroom. I'm still wearing my high school sweatshirt but he forgot to put his on. It's sweet that he suggested this flashback to high school night. He's only doing it because he's trying to cheer me up after what's turning out to be a horrible spring break. No heat, my car dies, crappy winter weather, and then stuck at my mom's house. Thank God Bryce got me out of there. My mom's new boyfriend was giving me the creeps. When he touched my ass I almost punched him, but then my mom walked in so I just hurried down to my room. But if Bryce had been there, he would've knocked the guy out.

"This better?" Bryce comes back, all smiles, showing off a t-shirt with a roaring lion on the front, our high school mascot. "I couldn't find my sweatshirt. I probably got rid of it. Last time I tried it on it was too small."

The t-shirt is also too small, the fabric straining over his wide chest and shoulders, the sleeves tight around his massive biceps. A twitch of excitement flutters inside me. Sexual excitement, the kind I shouldn't be feeling with Bryce. And yet I feel it whenever he's around, which makes sleeping next to him nearly impossible. I even had a sex dream about him last night. I woke up all hot and sweaty, my arm around his middle, almost touching his...

"Is it too small?" he asks, tugging on his shirt.

"Um, no." I force my attention back on my plate as he sits next to me. He must've showered after work because he smells fresh and clean with a slight hint of cologne.

He finishes his third pizza bagel while I'm still working on my first. He downs his bottle of Coke, then gets up and takes his plate to the sink.

"Ready for dessert?" he asks, holding up the Oreos and peanut butter. It's another Jen and Bryce thing. One day during sophomore year, we were at my house and I was eating peanut butter. We didn't have any clean spoons so I dipped my finger in the jar and for whatever reason, it grossed Bryce out. He had a package of Oreos in his backpack and gave me one and told me to use it to scoop up the peanut butter. And when I did, I discovered the delicious combination of peanut butter and Oreos. Ever since then, I've combined the two.

"I haven't even finished dinner." I take a bite of my bagel.

"You eat too slow." He pops an Oreo in his mouth. He eats them plain. He doesn't like them dipped in peanut butter.

"You eat too
fast
." I finish the last of my bagel, then dust my hands off over my plate. I hop off the barstool and take my plate to the sink, then grab an Oreo from the counter.

Bryce holds up the peanut butter jar, twisting off the cap. "Dig in."

I dip the cookie in the jar, swirling it around to get just the right amount, then take a bite.

"That's so good." I close my eyes, savoring the taste of the peanut butter mixing with the chocolate.

"Now you're gonna smell like peanut butter the rest of the night."

I open my eyes. "Yeah? So?" I dip my cookie in the jar again. "Why is that a problem?"

"It's not when we're eating, but when you're sprawled all over me during the movie, I don't want to smell it."

"I don't sprawl all over you." I take another cookie.

"Oh, please. You're like an octopus, your tentacles all wrapped around me." He smiles.

I smile back. "First of all, they're not called tentacles. An octopus has arms, not tentacles."

His smile drops and he glances down. Shit. I embarrassed him. Made him feel like he's not smart. That's not at all what I meant when I said that. To anyone else, my comment wouldn't mean anything, but to Bryce, it does. He thinks he's stupid, but he's not. He's so not. Why can't he see that?

"Bryce, I—"

"What's second?" he asks, his smile returning as he sets the peanut butter jar down.

"What are you talking about?"

"You were listing shit off. So continue. What's second?"

"Oh, um." I try to remember what I was going to say. "Second is that I do not sprawl all over you. I
lean
against you."

"With your arms and legs sprawled all over me."

"Fine." I hold my cookie up. "Then tonight I'll sit in the chair, far away from you."

"You can't. Then it wouldn't be like high school."

He's right. I always sprawled my arms and legs over him when we'd watch TV. But I stopped doing it after we had that kiss on graduation night. After that, things were awkward between Bryce and me and we hardly saw each other. It took a year before we started hanging out like normal again.

I pop the cookie in my mouth. "Let's clean up so we can get the movie going."

"You didn't use any peanut butter that time." He holds up the jar.

"Yeah, because I'm all self-conscious now, thinking I smell like peanut butter."

"You already smell like it so you might as well keep eating it."

"Nope. I'm done. And just to make you happy, I'm going to go brush my teeth." I walk down to the bathroom.

"Jen, I was kidding," he calls out.

It doesn't matter. He's right. Smelling like peanut butter all night isn't appealing. I go in the bathroom and brush my teeth, then go in his room and find my pajama pants in my duffle bag. If we're staying in for the night, I'm going to get comfortable.

As I'm yanking my jeans off, Bryce walks in.

"Shit. Sorry," he says, turning to leave.

"Bryce, get back here. I'm just putting my pajama pants on. What do you need?"

"I was just going to brush my teeth. I didn't even eat the peanut butter but I feel like it's in my mouth."

"Go ahead." I motion to the bathroom as I sit on his bed to put my pajama pants on.

While he's brushing his teeth, I decide to ditch my bra. I'll be more comfortable without it. I take my sweatshirt and t-shirt off and unhook my bra and slip it off.

I hear Bryce mumble a curse word, then, "Jen, you gotta warn me when you're undressing."

I whip around. "I was just getting—" I stop when I notice his eyes on my chest. I quickly cover myself with my arms, realizing I haven't put my sweatshirt back on. My eyes go to his as he lifts them back up. "Sorry."

"I'll get the movie started," he says, then hurries out of the room.

Why is he acting so weird? He's seen me without a shirt before. In fact, he's seen me almost naked. The other night when we came home from the bar I was drunk but I remember him helping me undress. He had to have seen a lot that night.

I pick my sweatshirt off the floor and put it on, then go back out to the living room. Bryce is on the couch, scrolling through a list of movies on the screen.

"Ferris Bueller?" he asks.
 

"Ooh, that's a good one." I sit next to him on the couch. "I haven't seen it since high school."

"Senior year. We watched it on your birthday, but you fell asleep after the first ten minutes."

I laugh. "Yeah, I'm a real partier, aren't I? But in my defense, it was almost midnight and it'd been a long day."

It was my eighteenth birthday and my mom wasn't around. Her boyfriend at the time had won a trip to a casino in Minnesota so she took off with him and left me home alone, which ended up being okay. She never did much for my birthday, other than take me to some fast food place for dinner. Spending my birthday with Bryce was way more fun. It was a Saturday and he took me out for lunch and a movie, then we went back to his house for my party, which included pizza, ice cream, balloons, and presents. Bryce's family threw me a party that year because they felt bad that my mom ditched me for her boyfriend. After the party, Bryce and I hung out on the couch and watched movies. I was awake for the first two, but fell asleep during Ferris Bueller.