The First Time is the Hardest: An Austin Brothers Novella (Austin Brothers Series Book 1) (3 page)

SOMETHING CHANGED IN
the days after the funeral. The guilt of not watching the burial of Lucas’s casket hung over me like a black cloud. Everyone tried to reassure me that it didn’t matter, and that I could go and visit him in my own time, but none of their words worked. I spent most of my time holed up in my room, in bed, with my memories. Colton had to return to his ranch just out of town to be with Ami, and Chase needed to get back to LA. Tanner stuck around, checking in on me, and Mom and Dad did the same. Only they treated me like a fragile child, cooing over me and bringing me milk and cookies.

I wasn’t sick.

I didn’t have some flu that would get better with chicken soup and one of Mom’s special hugs.

I was broken.

Something had changed inside me. My heart continued to beat, but I felt lifeless. A living ragdoll going through the motions.

To make matters worse, I didn’t see or hear from Ryan. I wanted so badly to talk to him, but I couldn’t even bring myself to put on clothes. The resounding determination I’d arrived with, the promise to myself—and Lucas—not to fall apart, had long gone.

And every day, I sunk deeper into the abyss.

~

By the fifth day, even Tanner had stopped calling. He had to go home to his fiancée and return to work. Everyone’s lives continued, while I lay in bed with my eyes closed trying to remember Lucas’s face. The fear that I would soon forget crippled me a little more every day. I had photos, sure, but it wasn’t the same.

A knock sounded on the door, and I heard Mom’s voice. “Honey, can I come in?”

“Sure, Mom,” I said, opening my eyes with a sigh.

“Mila Jean, my sweet baby, don’t you think it’s time you got up and came back to the real world?” My mouth dropped open and alarm registered on Mom’s face. “That came out all wrong. I just mean life has to go on, baby. He wouldn’t want this for you. Lucas wouldn’t want this.”

“Don’t,” I snapped feeling the tears build behind my eyes.

“Mila-”

“No, Mom. I’m not ready.”

“I just think if you-”

I turned my back to her and snuggled the comforter closer to me.

“Oh sweetie, it breaks my heart to see you like this. Tanner is downstairs. Should I send him up?”

“No, not right now.”

She sighed but didn’t say anything else. The door clicked shut, and I was alone once more. I preferred it that way lately. At least if I was alone, I didn’t have to try to keep up appearances. Try to fake a smile here or there.

But my solace didn’t last long.

Loud voices drifted upstairs, and I strained to hear what was happening. Growing up with three older brothers, I was no stranger to noise, but this sounded different. Tense. And then, I heard him.

Ryan.

I crept out of bed and opened the door careful not to make a sound.

“I just need to talk to her. Give me ten minutes.”

“Not happening. Look, Gennery, leave her alone. She needs to grieve Lucas in her own way, on her own. She doesn’t need you around messing with her head.”

“Messing with her head? Are you fucking kidding me? He was my brother,
my
brother, man.”

“I think you should-”

I clicked my door shut again and scanned my room. Maybe I was losing my mind, but hearing Ryan’s voice had ignited something in me. I needed to see him. Pulling on some pants and a clean tank, I grabbed my Tulane hoodie off the back of the chair. The front door slammed, and voices argued below me, but they’d moved to the kitchen. I exited my bedroom and tiptoed down the stairs, slipped my feet into my flats lined up by the door, and left the house.

What was I doing? My parents would flip. Tanner would lose it. But I needed to see Ryan, and I hadn’t realized how much until I heard his voice.

“Ryan,” I called out as he stormed up the sidewalk. “Wait up.”

He turned, his eyes widening. “Mila?”

“I- I heard you. Is everything okay?”

Pain twisted on his face. “No, everything has gone to fucking shit. I need a drink. You in?”

“Hmm.” I looked down at myself. I looked like shit.

“You look fine. Come on.”

Ryan took off again, and I had to jog to keep up with him.

“Hold up, will you? I thought you wanted to talk to me?”

He grumbled something under his breath but didn't turn back. I finally caught up with him and fell into step beside him. We turned the corner, and his parents’ house came into view. Panic clawed its way up my throat. I hadn’t seen them since the funeral, since I’d fled to the meadow. How could I possibly face them?

“You want us to go to your parents?” My eyes widened.

He scoffed and pointed at his car. “We need wheels.”

We did?

Where in the hell was he planning to take me?

“Ryan, I'm not sure-”

“Come, don't come, whatever. But I'm going.” He glared at me, and I froze in place. Something about the emptiness in his eyes terrified me, and I got a glimpse of the Ryan I’d known when we were younger. The quiet, hostile boy who didn’t enjoy small talk.

“I-”

Ryan raked a hand through his hair before shaking his head. “Whatever. I'm out of here.” He rounded his car and climbed inside.

It felt like the air was being sucked from my lungs. A few minutes in his presence and I'd been able to breathe easier, but now, the suffocating feeling that I’d grown so used to was returning.

“Wait.” I rushed to the car and opened the passenger door. “I'm coming, okay.”

He nodded and turned the key in the ignition. The car roared to life, and before I could change my mind, we were on the highway and Radeno was left fading in the rear view mirror.

~

We ended up in a dive bar on the outskirts of town. Ryan seated me at a booth in the back of the room before getting us drinks.

“Aren't you driving?”

“Not tonight.”

“What the hell, Ryan? How will I get back to Radeno?”

He shrugged, staring into his beer.

“Great. This is just great,” I murmured stirring the straw around in my drink, unsure whether I wanted this.

“They said they wished it had been me in the accident.”

My hand paused and I sucked in a sharp breath. “Yo- your parents?”

He nodded, downed the rest of his drink, and slid out of the booth, heading for the bar.

Oh, Ryan.

Carol and Peter were hurting, grieving the loss of their child. Lucas always was their favorite, he was everyone's favorite, but how could they say that to him?

When Ryan returned, he placed two shots on the table as well as another beer. I glanced up at him and said, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“My mom just told me she wished I'd died and he'd lived, and do you know what? Even I have days where I think that, so yeah, I think this the best fucking idea I’ve had in a while.”

I winced. Anger and pain rolled off him in waves, and before I could stop myself, I reached out and laid my hand over his. Ryan tensed, his jaw ticking. “Why are you here with me, Mila? You've never given a shit about me before.”

He was right. I hadn't. We were never close; we didn't talk or hang out. But he was Lucas’s brother.

“You understand what it's like. He left us, Ryan.
Both
of us.”

Ryan didn't reply. He lifted his glass and drank it down, eyeing the shot in front of me. I slid it across to him, and he drank that one too. When he set the glass down, he mumbled, “To Lucas, the best fucking brother there ever was.”

I sipped my drink, but it wasn't enough, and before long, I'd downed the mixer. The alcohol burned my throat, but it didn't matter.

Nothing mattered.

For the next hour, Ryan kept bringing us drinks, and I kept drinking them. He was buzzed; I could tell by the way that he slumped into the booth each time he returned. I felt a little lightheaded, but it wasn't until I went in search of the restrooms that the full effect of the alcohol hit me. I stumbled across the bar, holding out a hand to steady me. When I burst into the restroom, I caught my reflection in the mirror.

It wasn't good.

The girl staring back was unrecognizable. Her eyes were swollen and red, and her hair was unkempt and dragged back into a messy ponytail. And there was no smile on her face. She looked sad.

So sad.

Broken.

I peed, washed my hands, and returned to Ryan. He was hunched over his cell phone, fingers flying across the screen. When he spotted me, he sat up a little straighter and pocketed his cell.

“I look like shit.” I flounced into the booth dramatically, and Ryan laughed.

“Nah, you look fine.”

“Fine is the worst compliment ever.” Silence crept over us. Feeling the impending suffocation, I rushed out, “What are we doing out here, Ryan?”

“I had to get out of town. I couldn't stand another second in that place.”

“And me?”

“Shit, I don't know, Mila. I got into a huge fight with my parents, and they started spouting all of this crap at me, and I took off. Next thing I know, I'm standing on your doorstep arguing with Tanner.”

“They're worried about me.” My voice was small as I sunk back against the stained leather.

“He said something about you holing up in your room. Shit, Mila, you should have called me.”

“I don't have your number.”

Ryan shuffled beside me, but I couldn’t move. Exhaustion had taken over again, seeping into my muscles like poison. The effects of the alcohol pulled me back to earth, anchoring me to the bench.

“Ahh, shit. Come on, let's get out of here.” Ryan helped me out of the booth and hooked his arm around my waist. My head rested against him as he led us out of the bar.

We started walking in the opposite direction of the bar and his car. I wanted to ask where we were going, but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out.

I was so tired.

We entered another building. Ryan deposited me in a chair while he went to talk to someone. I stared out of the small window watching the cars roll past. The sun was shining, and it made everything look pretty. Happy.

It was a lie.

Things weren't happy.

“Come on.” Ryan helped me up again, and I felt someone watching us. I lifted my head and saw a man staring at me. He smiled sadly, and I lifted my hand in a small wave.

We exited the room through a different door and entered a long balcony lined with doors.

“You brought me to a motel?”

Ryan didn't answer. He led us to a room and opened the door. I froze in the doorway, and he glanced back at me. His eyes empty again. “I can call Tanner to come and get you?”

“What? No, no! I just- what are we doing here?”

“Forgetting. Don't you want to forget just for one night?”

I swallowed, unsure of his meaning. But he was right. I did want to forget. I wanted to forget everything.

My feet moved until I was standing in front of one of the beds. I sat down, my hands trembling. I tucked them underneath my butt.

“I'll be back in five minutes. Lock the door behind me.”

Ryan didn't wait around to explain. He slipped out of the room and disappeared. I did as he asked and locked the door.

This wasn't normal.
I
wasn't normal. Running after Ryan, letting him take me to that dive. My family would blow a fuse when they found out. But being around Ryan made it easier somehow.

There was a knock on the door, and I moved to the peephole. Unlatching the lock, I stepped back to give Ryan entry. He went to the small table and unpacked the bag. “I assumed you wouldn't drink whiskey, so I bought vodka.”

“Drunk. You want us to get drunk?”

He looked over at me, and his eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, what else would we be doing out here?”

My eyes dropped to the ground, and I played with a loose thread in the old chair, while Ryan mixed our drinks.

We didn’t talk, the silence hung thick among the stale motel air. Until Ryan broke the awkwardness. “I texted Tanner.”

Oh, boy.

“I didn't tell him where we are, just that you're safe, and you'll get in touch when you're ready.”

“Thank you.”

After accepting the cup from him, I moved to sit on the bed. Ryan took the chair and drank his before pouring himself another.

I did the same.

“I CAN’T FEEL
my face.” I reached out for the cup in front of me and missed, toppling forward and landing flat on my face.

Ryan exploded into fits of laughter. He slumped against the wall of the motel room. At some point during our forget-about-everything plan, we’d moved to the floor and started a game of dare. Except there wasn’t really a point to the game. You just had to keep drinking. Shot after shot, neither of us backed down.

Now, I could hardly see, and Ryan couldn’t contain his drunken giggles.

“Better than feeling. I’m so sick of feeling, Mila.”

I crawled forward, willing my body to get a grip of itself. When I had almost reached Ryan, I flopped down, my upper body landing across his legs. “I can’t feel my legs either. Shiiit, I’m so drunked.”

“Drunked?” The laughter grew louder, and his body heaved around me with the force of his amusement.

“Piss off.”

One of Ryan’s hands landed on my shoulder. “You know who was a lousy drunk? Lucas. He couldn’t hold down four beers.”

A sloppy grin came over my face at one of the many memories I had of him. “Yeah, but he was funny. He’d get so wasted, and I’d have to carry him home. Remember that one time in eleventh grade? You had to help me sneak him back to his bedroom so your parents wouldn’t find out?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

Suddenly, I didn’t feel so drunk anymore. Talking about Lucas like this—in the past tense—was sobering. My hand grasped the jean material covering Ryan’s leg. “God, Ryan. What are we doing?”

I pushed myself into a sitting position and looked at Ryan. He was staring at me, his eyes stormy and dark. “I have no idea, but it was better than facing reality. I don’t want to face reality, Mila. I don’t want to let him go.”

Ryan was always the stronger of the two brothers. He got into trouble. He started fights and made enemies, but he didn’t give a shit what people thought of him. That wasn’t the guy sitting in front of me. He looked so vulnerable. Without thinking, I closed the gap between us and wrapped him in my arms. Ryan came willingly, falling against me. My body twisted at an unnatural angle, and I felt ready to hurl at any second, but it didn’t matter. Ryan needed me, and I was going to be here for him. The way he’d been there for me at the funeral.

He gripped me harder as if I might crumple beneath him. “I’m so fucking lost.”

“I’m here, Ryan. I’m right here.”

What was happening?

Something was changing between us. Losing Lucas had brought us together in a way I hadn’t expected, but grief did that to people, didn’t it? It gave them a common bond. It was normal to find solace in those suffering with you, wasn’t it?

So why did this feel different?

I shut it off. I didn’t want to think about what it all meant. I just wanted to be here for Ryan—to let him know he wasn’t alone.

~

I lay staring up at the ceiling of the motel room. After things had gotten weird between us, Ryan had pulled away and gone to take a shower. When he was done, we ordered pizza and spent the rest of the evening sobering up and watching the ancient television in the corner of the room.

Neither of us talked about what had happened. What
was
happening? But we didn’t talk about leaving the motel either. So when darkness fell, I crawled underneath the sheets of one of the beds.

But I couldn’t sleep.

Rolling onto my side, I watched Ryan as he slept. His chest rose and fell softly. He looked peaceful, and at that moment, I saw a hint of Lucas. He was usually so tense and brooding that he and Lucas didn’t resemble one another all that much. Lucas was fairer like his mom, with the same bright eyes and wide smile. Ryan was all Peter. They shared the same scowl, and the same dark, intense eyes. Growing up, I only ever saw Peter that way when he was angry about something, but it was Ryan’s usual look.

“I can feel you watching me.” His voice was low, and heat stained my cheeks.

“I- uh, I was just … Wait, you’re awake? How long have you been awake?”

We must have been lying there for at least an hour.

He shifted an arm under his head and sighed. “I haven’t been asleep yet.”

“You mean you were awake this whole damn time, and you never said anything?” I said incredulously.

“I was thinking.”

“Thinking? About what?”

“My parents. Lucas …” He hesitated. “You.”

“Me?” My heart started to race as the air grew thick around me.

Ryan didn’t answer, and silence filled the space. He slid his hand to the edge of the sheet and pulled it back, shuffling to the far side of his bed.

I stared at the empty space, my heart pounding against my chest. This was wrong. I knew it, knew that nothing good could come out of crossing this line, but it didn’t stop me from slipping out of my bed and climbing in beside him. Ryan’s arm went around me, drawing me to his side, and I tucked my head against him. I couldn’t explain what was happening. I didn’t want to think about it. I just wanted to be.

Be here, at this moment, with Ryan.

I wanted the feeling of intense loneliness since taking Carol Gennery’s call to evaporate. And just for a moment, I wanted to feel safe.

“Why does this feel right?” Ryan’s voice was shaky as if he was thinking all of the things rushing through my head. But he’d been brave enough to say what I couldn’t.

What I didn’t want to admit.

Nestling further into his side, I didn’t reply. I couldn’t, not yet. Things were too raw, too confusing, and I needed time to process.

Maybe in the light of the day things would seem clearer.

~

A thick wall of heat pressed down on me as my eyes fluttered open, and I gasped for breath. Sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, and I blinked, trying to find my bearings.

And then I felt him.

Ryan.

Pressed behind me, he’d thrown his arm over me protectively. Possessively. One of his legs had slipped between my own.

Oh, God.

He mumbled behind me, and I froze, paralyzed in his arms. But his breathing evened out, and I knew he was still sleeping. As I tried to maneuver out of his arms without waking him, pain ricocheted through my skull, and I groaned quietly. As if waking up in Ryan’s bed wasn’t enough to deal with, I had the hangover from hell.

When I looked down and found I was still fully clothed, I breathed a sigh of relief. At least nothing had happened. We had simply taken comfort in one another in our time of need. That was all it was.

I cleaned up in the bathroom, trying to figure out my next move. I could stick around for the awkward morning pleasantries, or I could try to find my way back to Radeno. Then it hit me. Ryan had said he had texted Tanner.

Slipping back into the room, I found Ryan’s cell phone and checked his messages. Sure enough, there was one from Tanner. But, shit, I had no clue where we were. I scanned the motel room and found a welcome brochure with the address. I added it to the text message and hit send. Placing Ryan’s cell back on the nightstand, I watched him sleep for a few more seconds before slipping out of the room.

Tanner arrived fifteen minutes later. His face was red with anger as he stopped the car and got out to greet me.

“Don’t, Tan, okay? My head feels ready to explode, and there’s a good chance I might puke at any moment.”

“He got you drunk?”

“Ugh,” I groaned, ducking around him and making a beeline for his car.

Tanner climbed back inside and glanced over at me. “There’s water in the glove compartment. You look like shit.”

“Thanks, big brother. Thanks a lot.”

“You and he didn’t-”

“Tanner!”

“What? I care about you, and whatever the hell this is going on with you two isn’t healthy. He’s Lucas’s brother, Mila. Older and more delinquent brother, might I add.”

I turned my head to the window and pressed it against the cool glass. I didn’t need this from him. Not right now. I already felt enough guilt. Only for what, I wasn’t sure. Tanner might have had a point about Ryan being Lucas’s brother, but it hadn’t felt good to just up and leave him. But I couldn’t be there when he woke up. What would I say? What would he say? No, it was better this way.

But I couldn’t shake the words he’d said before we fell to sleep.
Why does this feel right?
Because it had felt right. Call me crazy or screwed-up or just plain wrong, but being in Ryan’s arms last night had felt right.