Seeing Red (33 page)

“She’s asleep, and we didn’t want to wake her.
Relax.”

“Oh, well, I’m starving. Have you eaten?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Okay, I’ll be right over. I’ll pick up some
pizza.”

“Bring enough for four and bring me a change of
clothes.”

“Okay, Brother. See ya.”

“I was about to start cooking before you called. I
can cook.”

“Heather, no offense, but I’m really not in the
veggie burger kinda mood.”

She laughed. “I was going to make tofu stir-fry.
It’s world-famous, but I guess you prefer pizza, probably with
pepperoni or some other dead animal on it.” They talked for the
next half hour while they waited for Alexander. Heather had a beer,
but because of the pain killers, Oliver had to settle for soda. The
small talk didn’t feel forced, and he was happy to have a
conversation with someone that seemed genuinely happy.

They were so engrossed in conversation that when
Alexander knocked on the door, Heather let out a gasp and clutched
her chest. She got up and opened the door and then looked at Oliver
and back at Alexander. “Jesus, you guys really are twins! I always
forget.” The three laughed. Heather stood by the door, looking
beautiful in a fitted t-shirt and shorts that accentuated her lean
legs; she could brighten any room with her smile and southern
charm.

***

Jillian

“Huh, what are you doing here?” Jill came out of her
room with her eyes half closed and yawning. She rubbed one eye with
the back of her hand and her crazy curls sat in a bun on her head.
“What time is it? Christ, what day is it?”

“Sweetie, we didn’t want to wake you, and they
sprung Oliver from the hospital today instead of tomorrow, so I
went to get him.”

“You did? Um . . . thanks.” She was still a little
fuzzy.

“Why didn’t you call Alexander?” she asked Oliver,
who was acting strange all of a sudden and avoiding eye contact.
Maybe he found out about the kiss and is mad.

“I fell asleep too and didn’t hear my phone,” said a
voice from the kitchen, which she knew immediately to be
Alexander.

“Oh.”

“Sweetie . . .” Heather started.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to put on some pants?” Heather
asked.

Alexander ran out of the kitchen when he heard
Heather, and his mouth dropped to the floor, unlike Oliver, who
tried to avert his eyes so as to not embarrass her. Alexander
looked at Jill with hunger in his eyes and didn’t even attempt to
conceal it. He looked at her legs up and down from the tips of her
toes to the hem of her panties.

Jill looked down at her legs and shrugged sleepily.
“I guess it would be a good idea.” She had forgotten what she wore
when she collapsed on her bed. “It’s not like these two haven’t
seen me naked before.” But before she went back to the room to get
dressed, she stepped forward, grabbed a slice of pizza, and walked
back into her room.

“Jill, you were like eleven years old. That is not
the same ass we saw when you were eleven. Please put on some pants
before my brother has a stroke right here on your living room
floor.” Oliver yelled from the couch where he sat.

***

Alexander

Realizing that the same gorgeous view he had just
seen was on display for Oliver as well, Alexander’s blood boiled.
He would not have Jill in panties being ogled by his brother.

He would be the only one ogling!

He needed to calm down. Why was it always a huge up
or a huge down when it came to Jill? Things were rarely just
normal. It was either euphoria or despair. There was never a middle
ground. It then occurred to him that therein lay the problem of
their relationship—there was never middle ground. If they could
just find middle ground, they could have a happy life together.
They couldn’t live in this bi-polar state and be happy.

But if they had normalcy, then they wouldn’t be Red
and Xander, and what was the fun in that?

Heather and Oliver sat on the couch talking;
Alexander sat on a stool by the kitchen counter sulking. Jill came
back out with a pair of gray sweatpants that were at least two
sizes too big. She went to the kitchen, opened a beer, and took a
big gulp. She closed her eyes and sighed as it went down her
throat. She let her hair loose from the bun on top of her head and
shook off the curls so that her hair lay down her back in a big
thick mess of soft red curls.

Alexander sat watching her, mesmerized. She grabbed
another slice of pizza and sat next to him. She opened a second
beer and handed it to Alexander. They ate in silence. She smelled
wonderful: a mixture of lavender and citrus. When she reached her
right hand for her beer, he grabbed it before it touched the beer
and lifted it to his mouth and kissed her palm. She turned to look
at him and the edges of his mouth curved into a small, but potent,
smile.

As they ate in silence, he looked at her repeatedly,
tenderly tucking loose curls behind her ear, stroking her cheek
with the back of his hand, caressing her forearm with his fingers.
At one point, he rubbed the top of her hand on his own cheek and
neck with his eyes closed, like a purring kitten. She couldn’t take
her eyes off him, and he saw her eyes glaze and her face flush.
When they finished eating, he let go of her hand, stood up, picked
up his plate, and went to the living room where Heather and Oliver
were watching television and talking. They were oblivious to the
silent exchange that had just taken place.

Jillian walked into the living room, and the only
seat left was next to Alexander, of course. As soon as she sat
down, he yawned, “I’m beat, Brother. You coming with me or you
staying?”

“Staying.” Both women said at the same time.

“Told you.” Heather winked at Oliver.

“Huh?” Jill asked

“He thought you’d kick him out, but I told him you
would insist that he stay.” Heather answered.

“Then I’m leaving. Bye,” Alexander said angrily and
slammed the door. He knew he had to control his jealousy. There was
nothing going on between Jill and Oliver. Was there? No, he didn’t
think so. There was definite chemistry—palpable chemistry between
Alexander and Jillian, and it couldn’t possibly be the same with
his brother.

***

Jillian

“What was that about?” Oliver asked Jill

“Who knows? Xander being Xander. Moody as
always.”

Jill and Heather picked up and moved Oliver’s bag to
Jill’s room. “My room has a bigger bed, so Jill can sleep with me
and you can take her bed.”

“I’m sorry for the imposition. I can sleep on the
sofa; it’s really no—”

“No” Both women replied at the same time. He
laughed.

“Okay, okay. You two are worse than us twins.” They
smiled at each other. They really had become the best of friends
during these past few months.

Friday Oliver slept all day, waking only when
absolutely necessary.

“God, I feel as if I were run over by a truck.”
Oliver groaned as he stood up to walk to the bathroom.

“You, sort of, were, hon’.” Heather winced, seeing
him struggle to stand up from the couch.

Saturday morning, Jill needed to study for an exam.
Heather had made a big breakfast, and Oliver lounged on the couch
watching TV. “I need a shower,” Oliver mumbled.

“Is that a request?” Jill smiled cheekily.

“Are you offering?”

“Oliver! I’ll call Xander to come help you.”

“.I just need help taking off my clothes.” He
winked.

“I’ll call Xander,” she smiled, “and you can’t wet
the cast on your arm or the stitches on your head, so it will be
more than just taking off your clothes.”

She really didn’t feel like talking to Xander,
especially since he had acted so strangely, which she didn’t
understand since he was so affectionate while they had been eating,
so she texted him instead.

O needs help taking a shower.

U didn’t offer?

Did u want me to offer?

We need to talk.

R u coming to help or what?

Was already on my way.

Stop texting and driving—ESPECIALLY ON A BIKE!

Then, stop asking questions.

X—don’t text anymore

It’s rude not to reply, babe.

He always had to have the last word. She didn’t want
to text anymore because she knew he wouldn’t stop until she
stopped, and she didn’t want him to get into an accident

“Xander is on his way. I’m going to be in my room,
studying. Holler if you need anything.”

“Okay.” She heard the knock on the door, and she
also heard the door open and some talking. She assumed it was
Alexander, so she just kept on reading her notes, while hearing
their conversation.

“How’s it going, Brother?”

“Too good. I may never leave.”

“Where’s everyone?”

“Heather went to the gym, and Jill’s studying in her
room.”

“Come on. Let’s go get you clean. You’re starting to
stink up the place.”

“
Ha, ha. Help me up.”

Twenty minutes later, Jillian heard, “Thanks for the
help, Brother.”

“I’m going to have to change too. I’m wetter than
you are. Where are your clothes? I need to find something dry.”

“In Jill’s room.”

Alexander took off his soaking wet shirt by the door
of Jill’s room as she watched from her bed where she sat with books
spread everywhere.

“You don’t believe in knocking?” Her eyes trailed
over his wet, naked, chiseled chest.

“Don’t start with me, Jillian. I need a shirt.
Where’s Oliver’s stuff?”

She pointed to the last drawer and a duffle bag. She
had to admit he looked good—no, not good, fucking fantastic—without
a shirt. He walked to the drawer, grabbed the first shirt he found,
and slipped it on.

“Scoot over.” Alexander said while moving some of
the papers and books around to make room.

“Excuse me?”

“Scoot over. I want to see what you’re studying so
that I can go home and study harder.”

“Is everything a competition with you?”

“Only with you.” He wiggled his eyebrows and grabbed
some of her papers.

“Oh, Constitutional Law. I got this in the bag
already. You need any help?”

“From you? Pft! No thanks.” She snorted.

“You are such a pain in my ass, Jillian. Are you
such a smart ass with everyone?”

“Only with you.” Now she wiggled her eyebrows and
yanked her notes from his hand.

“Come on, woman, I’m starving, and we need to talk.”
He started pulling her up.

“I can’t. I’m studying. Plus, I’m not leaving
Oliver. What if he needs something?”

“His legs aren’t broken. He’ll be fine for an hour.
Our little boy is bathed and fed. He’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

“I don’t know . . .” He caught her off guard, most
likely noticing the look of concern.

He yelled to Oliver from her door, “Oly, are you
hungry?”

“No, Heather made a huge breakfast. I’m stuffed.
Although, next time, I’d prefer real eggs and real bacon over all
that fake healthy shit.”

“Do you need anything from Jill?”

“No. Why?”

“Will you survive an hour alone while we grab a
burger?”

“Sure.”

“See. Let’s go.” She didn’t move.

“You’ve ignored me since, well, since whenever.
Anyway, now you’re just presuming I’m going to get up and go eat
with you or go anywhere with you for that matter.”

“Just because we haven’t talked, doesn’t mean I’ve
ignored you. Just stop being difficult, woman. You’re hungry. I’m
hungry. Let’s go.”

“Fine.” Clearly, the elephant in the room was never
going to be discussed. She would have to accept it was a one-time,
okay three times, fluke and now they’d go about their lives as if
the best kiss she’d ever had never happened.

She stood up, moving the pile of books and papers
off of her.

“What the hell?” He went to her door and slammed it
closed and locked the door.

He closed his eyes, took sharp intake of breath, and
opened them. He walked up to her, slowly shaking his head from side
to side, which made her nervous and admittedly a little excited.
What was the look on his face—anger? Lust? And talk about mood
shift!

“What are you doing, Xander?” She took a step away
from him. Her heart was pounding. He grabbed her shoulders as if he
were going to shake her.

“You have to stop with this while Oliver is staying
with you.” He looked down and pointed to her bare legs. She wore
her typical lounging-around-the-house clothes: a camisole and
panties. The camisole was long enough that you couldn’t see her
panties. Well, unless she bent down or reached up but tight enough
that you could clearly see the swells of her breasts.

“Are you out of your mind? Who the hell do you think
you are? You storm into my room as if you have a right to come in
and out, and then you demand that I go eat with you, and now I have
to change the way I dress all the while you ignore me? Most of the
time, you pretend I don’t exist!”

“I’m following your lead. I’m doing what you asked
me to do. Just because we haven’t had a conversation, doesn’t mean
I’ve ignored you. I’ve seen you a dozen times in the last
forty-eight hours. I haven’t walked past you without touching you,
and God knows I’ve tried to control myself, but you can’t prance
around half naked, Jillian. Get dressed now.”

“Stop it! You are acting crazy. This is my home.
Oliver has seen me in a lot fewer clothes than this, and—”

“What the hell do you mean that Oliver has seen you
in fewer clothes? What are you trying to tell me, Jillian?”

“Oh my God, relax! What kind of girl do you think I
am, Alexander? Do you think I’ve slept with everyone? You need to
work on this overprotective big-brother thing you have going! What
I meant was that both of you have seen me naked! I’ve seen both of
you naked too. They’re just legs, Alexander. I’m not walking around
nude. And you’ve seen plenty of women’s legs, so what’s the big
deal?”