Vivid Lies (16 page)

There were few times in my life I felt jealous of Brooklyn. Mostly because one of us never had anything the other didn't. As long as we had each other, we didn't want for much else.
 

One of these rare moments was when I watched Miles kiss her last summer. I felt like he liked her more than me. He liked her enough to kiss her, knowing she never let herself fall in love. It made me feel less. That hurt, coming from someone I cared about so much.
 

Another time was when one of our friends in the eighth grade asked Brooklyn to enter the talent show with her. Granted, I wasn't a good dancer and would never be able to do it in front of the whole school, but I felt the envy. I wanted to be able to dance and be fearless like my sister.
 

Now, that sickening feeling weighs on me. Since moving here, our differences have become obvious. When we no longer need to cling to each other just to make it through the day, we are able to be ourselves. It's exactly what I wanted. I just never expected to feel so small and insignificant in Brooklyn's light.
 

In the bathroom, her makeup covers the counter. I look plain in the mirror while Brooklyn looks sexy and fierce when she gets herself ready. I prefer to hide behind the lens and watch beauty while she becomes it and lives without hiding.
 

I read about epic love and watch it from the outside. Always chasing but never catching.
 
I don't even know what I would do if I did catch it. My photography allows me to watch and see love without all the ugliness and pain but also without all the joy and warmth. That used to be enough. Brooklyn teases it, pushes it away, and runs from it.
 

Brooklyn has the attention of Kane. She got to feel what it was like to have his hands on her because he wanted to feel her, not comfort her. It was Brooklyn whom he wanted so badly he fucked her hard enough that they broke furniture. I hate more than anything that I am jealous of that.
 

Since the other night with Kane, I think about him more than I would like to. He is everything I usually avoid, but then I see parts of him I think he tries to hide. He took me to the marina and spent all day watching me take photographs. He spent the night in a bathtub for me. It's those moments that make me think differently about him.
 

Brooklyn will play with him until she gets bored or starts to feel anything. He will never mean anything to her. It seems like such a waste to me. I saw a different side of him when he broke in to save me during the storm. He cared and was understanding—gentle even. Brooklyn won't see that side of him and I will never see the side he shows to her.
 

I pick up the eyeliner on the counter. I start to line my eyelids, putting it on dark and heavy. Brooklyn is the one who looks hot and gets the guys. I used to be happy to be the opposite. It made me different than her.
 

Now I'm bored and I'm sick of always being the good girl. I give my eyes a smoky look and apply mascara. My eyes shine back at me, large and curious. I feel a little more alive as I transform myself. I feel sexy and confident. Like I can take whatever I want without consequences. I feel more like my sister.
 

That is until I hear a knock on the door.
 

"Shit," I whisper in a panic. I look ridiculous now that I know someone will see. Like a little girl playing dress up in her mom's closet.
 

I can't do anything about it and someone keeps knocking, getting more urgent the more I stall. I rush to the door and yank it open. I expected Miles, or maybe Brooklyn since she can't seem to ever remember her keys. What I do not expect is to see Kane taking up the entire door frame.

"Maybe you were right," he says, taking a step inside. He leaves me no choice but to step aside and let him in.
 

I shut the door and turn to face him. His hair is windblown and messy. His face is set and serious as he intently stares at me. I think I was going to say some words, but I'm silenced by the look he is giving me. Like he wants to strangle and fuck me at the same time.
 

"Maybe I don't get to get jealous. That was the fucking rule, right?"

I don't know what to say that and talking is impossible as he closes in on me.
 

"I was never one for rules, so I fucking broke them."

I'm pinned against the door as he crowds over me. I'm about to say something when I get lost in the dark depth of his eyes. No one ever looked at me like that before.
 

"I can't stand the thought of someone else touching you."

His lips slam into mine. I gasp and Kane takes the opening, slipping his tongue in to taste mine. His large hands frame my face as he kisses me deeper. The same buzz he gave me the other night in the dark is back, but stronger. Every nerve ending comes to life, wanting a piece of this man. They don't care he isn't mine to have.
 

Kane isn't just kissing me. He's possessing me. Devouring me.
 

His hard body is pressing me to the door. I feel his heartbeat pounding against my own. His heat is burning through our clothes. This is the fire that I have searched for, but I'm always too scared to touch.

"You say you're done with me, but I want to know why you push everyone away from you," Kane says against my lips.
 

"I'm not," I manage to breathe out.
 

Kane takes my words as a challenge and not the weak dispute they really are. His fingers tangle in my long hair, tugging my head back. He kisses down my neck, licking the spot where my pulse is beating. I get lost in the sensations and the heat warming me from the inside out.
 

This is everything I imagined it would be, but more powerful.
 

Each touch and taste is filled with desire and determination. Kane is intent on making me feel everything he wants to give.
 

He's trying to change her mind. To make her feel.

Not mine. Not me.
 

I stiffen and Kane pulls back to look down at me. He searches my face and finally sees it.
 

My body goes cold when he steps back quickly. There's only maybe a foot between us but I feel like it's an ocean. I touch my swollen lips. I can still taste him. I'm still tingling from head to toe, even knowing that wasn't for me.
 

"London? Shit."
 

I'm silent as Kane paces the small living room. He roughly runs his fingers through his hair. I want to say something it make it better, but I can't think of anything to fix this.
 

"Why didn't you stop me?" Kane asks, stopping to look at me.
 

Since he walked in, he hasn't looked at me as London. He saw Brooklyn when he barged in and pushed me against the door. No one has ever looked at me like that before.
 

Now he sees me. But that heated look he had isn't much different now than it was minutes ago.
 

"I don't know."

I didn't push him away or fight. Even knowing he thought I was her, it didn't stop the way my body responded to him. It doesn't make me less affected by that kiss.
 

I hold my breath as Kane steps up to me. I'm still against the door he pushed me against to kiss me, unable to move. I'm cornered by him but I'm not scared.
 

I'm excited.
 

Kane stops inches from me. I'm pretty sure he can hear my heart pounding in my chest. A man like him isn't blind to the way I'm reacting. It obvious by my pink cheeks and wide eyes how much that kiss affected me. The look Kane is giving me says he knows exactly how I feel.
 

His hand comes to my face and his thumb touches my bottom lip. He looks at my lips like he is seeing them for the first time.
 

"Why aren't you kicking me out?" he asks.
 

"I probably should."
 

Neither one of us moves. Knowing the truth, we are closer than we should be. I feel his breath on my lips that he's touching. I don't think I look even remotely annoyed or upset that he kissed me. Usually I'm the one doing as she should, but I'm not now.
 

"Probably," he agrees.
 

He looks down at my lips again and I lick them instinctively. The hand that is not cupping my face grabs my hip. I arch into him thoughtlessly. It's like I've done it thousands of times before. Like it belongs. In reality, it's not my body that belongs with his.
 

"London?" Kane's voice is deep but soft and I feel it flutter across my lips.
 

"Hmm?"

One inch closer.

One more swipe on my lip.
 

"You need to tell me to leave or I'm going to kiss you again. On purpose this time."

I deflate. Now I need to make a choice. Give him permission or stop this before it goes too far.

What my head and body want are at war. I'm used to always doing the right thing. I'm just not used to not wanting to this badly.
 

"You should go," I say, hating the way the words taste.
 

Kane nods in understanding and lets go of my face. I bite my lips to keep them shut because a part of me wants to take it back. That selfish part of me that gets shoved down wants to have her say. For once, I want something that I shouldn't and damn the consequences.
 

But I'm the good girl. I'm the girl with a head on her shoulders who does the right thing. She definitely isn't the one who kisses guys interested in her sister.
 

"I'll let her know you came by."

"Don't bother. It's over with us."

That doesn't make opening the door for him any easier.

"I would say I'm sorry, but I can't say that I am," Kane says as he walks out.

I close the door and lean against it, finally letting out the breath I was holding. My knees and hands are shaking. I'm not sure what is shaking me the most. The guilt from kissing Kane, or how much I liked it.
 

Brooklyn

Kane doesn't come into the club. I passed him once in the hall, but we didn't speak. I got a wave that he gives the other neighbors. You would think that after years of ending relationships I would get used to the avoidance. I'm used to it, but it isn't fun.
 

Growing up with my father, you couldn't risk letting anyone too close. Besides Miles, no one knows what we went through. Everyone thought Dad was sick. That wasn't entirely wrong. He was a sick man.
 

Getting close meant they could see the bruises. Or they could hear the yelling. Someone would notice how long we had been alone.
 

I never really liked anyone enough to take that risk. The only people I can't imagine my life without are by my side now. I have London and Miles. I'm happy with that. As close to happy as I can feel.
 

Even though I should feel bad about blowing off Kane, I'm not sure that I do. It was bound to happen eventually. When I feel trapped, I bolt. I felt trapped in that VIP room with Kane. If anything, I feel angry.
 

Kane said we were just sex. That was all I wanted or needed. Kane offered an escape from my own mind and past. If I miss anything, it was the way I was in another world when I was with him.
 

I keep myself as busy as possible now. Anything to keep from seeking him out. It's not as hard as I suspected since London decided to stop cleaning. Not just after me. Cleaning anything up at all. She's on some unspoken strike, it seems.
 

"I've got a high school dance to photograph tonight so I'll be home late," London says as she rushes through the living room.
 

"That sounds fun," I joke. "Your first dance."

"Just a few years too late."
 

I step over a pile of clothes in the living room. I think it's a subtle hint to do laundry.
 

"Is that my dress? How did you find something clean?"

"Our dress. The laundry is in the basement. Quarters are in the jar."

London points at a jar of coins by the door. She looks great in a blue dress I bought last year at a thrift shop. We do share our clothes, but there are things we buy assuming the other would never wear. The hem is short and she's showing more cleavage than she is normally comfortable with.
 

"Um. Okay."

London grabs her stuff and leaves me utterly confused. She is acting oddly and I don't like it.
 

The kitchen is filled with dirty dishes and the pantry is empty. In the bathroom, makeup is used and covering the vanity. It's so unlike London to leave things out of place. Part of the reason we can share everything without drama is that we barely notice we are sharing. Clothes and makeup go back where they came from.