Erin McCarthy - Sweet

Riley’s jaw clenched, and I knew I had made him mad. “House Rule Number One: Mind your own fucking business.”

“That’s kind of vague,” I complained. “I mean, I’m staying in your house, so I am sort of in your business unintentionally.”

“How about this? You’re staying here for free and I’m letting you. If you criticize the way I’m taking care of my brothers, I’ll throw you and your pink luggage out into the fucking street.” And he blew a huge cloud of smoke right into my face.

Okay, so maybe I had gone too far. I didn’t mean to actually imply he was doing a shitty job with his brothers. Well, I guess I had in regard to the smoking issue, but that wasn’t a general statement about his surrogate parenting. “Got it. Sorry.”

“That about killed you to say, didn’t it?” he asked, with a sudden grin.

Yes. “Of course not. I was wrong. Just because it isn’t healthy for the boys doesn’t mean I should point that out to you.” Hmm. That wasn’t really a great apology. I tried to channel my New Hope bible study personality—the one that was polite and kind and nonjudgmental. But that part of me seemed to be missing whenever I wasn’t in my hometown of Troy, and most of the time I liked it that way.

Riley rolled his eyes. “Rule Number Two: Don’t piss me off.”

“I was thinking these rules would be more like along the lines of wash your dirty dishes and lock the house when you leave. You know, specific things. I feel like you’re setting me up to fail.”

“I feel like you’re setting me up to have an ulcer.” He clutched his chest like he was in pain and grimaced. “Or have a heart attack.”

I laughed. “Now who wants an Oscar?”

“I get up at seven for work.”

“A.M.? Ew.”

“So I would appreciate it if you don’t make a ton of noise after eleven at night since I’ll be in bed.”

Why did a shiver just roll up my spine? It was eight billion degrees outside. Oh, yeah, I knew why. It was Riley mentioning the “b” word. Now I was picturing him naked with a sheet up to his waist. “Sure, no problem. I usually work three to eleven, so I’ll be quiet when I come in.”

“You’re not planning on taking the bus back here at night, are you?” The very thought looked like it was increasing the pain in his chest.

“No. I can take a cab. It will only be, like, ten bucks.”

“You can sleep in Jayden and Easton’s room. It has an AC window unit.”

Yes. Yes, yes, yes. “Really? Oh my God, I love you.” I had been imagining sweaty sleepless nights, my thighs stuck together. “Where are you going to sleep?”

“Oh, I have a unit in my room, too. Only Tyler’s room doesn’t have one.”

I would have preferred to sleep in Tyler’s room instead of where a couple of teen and preteen boys were living, but cool air won out over a funk-free environment. “How did Tyler get so screwed?”

“Cuz he’s an asshole.”

“Well, that clears it up.” I rolled my eyes, picking at my T-shirt to get air circulation between my boobs.

“You can use anything in the kitchen, though I’m not sure why you’d want to. But there are actually real kitchen things now that Rory’s been back around. She bakes and shit.”

“I won’t be baking.” I would rather do just about anything else, frankly.

“That does not surprise me. You and Rory aren’t much alike, are you?”

I shrugged. “I guess not, on the surface. She’s not big on sarcasm or teasing.”

“You have those down pretty good, I’d say.”

“You, too.” Grinning at Riley, I added, “I feel like we should high-five here or something.”

“Don’t get carried away.”

My tongue came out before I could stop it. But he just smiled. “In return for not smoking in the house, I’m asking you to keep your girl shit out of the bathroom.”

Girl shit? “If I can’t keep my shit in the bathroom, where else would it go?” I asked, amused.

“You know what I mean. I don’t want to go to brush my teeth and there isn’t an inch of counter space to use because you have creams and equipment and whatever.”

“Equipment?” I snorted. “I don’t use power tools to get ready in the morning. But fine, I will put my blow-dryer away after each use. And I promise to never ask you to pick up a box of tampons for me on the way home from work.”

The horror on his face made me laugh. “Don’t tell me you have never bought tampons before?”

He shook his head. “I’m a dude. Why would I buy tampons?”

“For a girlfriend.” It seemed obvious to me.

He flicked his spent cigarette off into the yard. I could see there were literally hundreds of butts in the dirt that might have been an actual yard back in about 1965. There was such pride in home ownership at work right here.

“No. I probably would if she was, like, bleeding on my car seats, but otherwise, no.”

Was he for real? “You are so ridiculous. You’re not talking about a bullet wound. Don’t be gross.”

“You’re the one who brought up tampons. And speaking of that whole guy-girl thing . . .”

Were we? I didn’t think we were, but this could be interesting. “Yes?”

“If you have Nerd Boy or someone over here, that’s fine, whatever, just keep it down, okay? And wash my brother’s sheets the next day. Laundry is in the basement.”

My jaw fell so fast and far it was amazing it didn’t land in my lap. “I hadn’t really given any thought to it. Since it’s only a week, I think I can manage to hold off on hookups. But feel free to do whatever yourself. You don’t even need to keep it down—I have earplugs. Kylie snores.”

What the hell was I saying? Earplugs crammed into my cranium wouldn’t drown out the sound of sex if I knew to listen for the sound of sex. The last thing in the freaking world I wanted was for Riley to be banging some chick just a few feet and a thin wall away from me.

But why was that exactly? It wasn’t like I wanted to bang him. Not really.

A horrible thought occurred to me. With the house to himself, maybe Riley had been envisioning a week of brother-free boning. Maybe he had a girlfriend. He could. How would I know? No, wait. He’d said he didn’t want a relationship, so there wasn’t a girlfriend. That didn’t mean he hadn’t been planning on a sweaty sexfest, though.

I wondered what Riley’s type was. I realized I had no clue.

Then again, I wasn’t sure I knew what my own type was.

“That’s very considerate of you,” he said dryly.

“I’m like that,” I told him. “What can I say?”

“So you don’t mind if I have a girl over?” He was studying me, his brown eyes indecipherable.

Yes. “No.” I waved my hand. “God, why would I care? I mean, it’s your house. You should be able to do what you want, right? House Rule Number One.”

Riley nodded slowly. “Right. Thanks for understanding.”

That was me, being a big person. I wanted to beat the shit out of myself for being so stupid. This was what being nice got you—your worst nightmare. I may want to throw beer cans at Riley on a regular basis, but I did not want to see him making out with some giggling twit on the couch. Because she would be a twit, that was a guarantee. She would also be pretty and I would hate her for it.

And now I was jealous of a fictional girl. Fabulous.

I stood up. “I need some water or something. My throat is super dry. If you think of any other rules, let me know.” I needed to get away from him. “I think I’ll run to the store and get some essentials like diet pop and yogurt.” Possibly an air freshener or two.

“And how are you going to get to the store, princess?”

Riley wasn’t easy to charm, but I went for it. I gave him a pleading smile. “I was hoping I could borrow your car?” I showed lots of teeth and pulled my shoulders up by my ears. It usually worked with most guys.

He shook his head and gave a scoff of a laugh. “You’re fucking unreal. The keys are on the coffee table.”

Hot damn. “Really? Thanks!” I impulsively threw my arms around his bare shoulders and gave him a half-hug.

It was a mistake. He smelled like skin, and his body was hard beneath my touch. I heard a sharp intake of his breath near my ear. I pulled back quickly, my nipples suddenly tight. “Thanks, Riley,” I repeated.

He just waved me off, not looking at me. “Bring beer.”

“I’ll try.”

As I left, I saw he was pulling another cigarette out of the pack.

Interesting.

Without knowing who the bed belonged to, I had chosen the one closest to the air-conditioning unit stuffed into the window. The second window was bare of blinds or drapes, so I had duct-taped my hoodie to it, arms spread out like an Abercrombie crucifix. The thought made me grimace reflexively, twenty years of religious training strong. My father would have a heart attack and die if I said something like that out loud.

The makeshift window covering was because I was pretty sure that picnic table was right outside and I didn’t like the idea that Riley could be sitting out there watching me wander around his brothers’ bedroom. Not that I thought Riley was a creeper, but it just made me feel better to have it covered. It would prevent the morning sun from pouring in, too.

Back from the store, I leaned against the wall on the bed and called Kylie, knowing this was too important for texting. I needed to hear that she understood how important this was. Surveying the room as the phone rang, I tried to imagine Jayden and Easton in here, and I couldn’t quite picture it. There wasn’t really anything personal to the room. The walls were blank, the sheets generic, the quilts old crocheted afghans in a god-awful orange and black color combo. I realized they might have been made to represent the Cincinnati Bengals football team, but that didn’t excuse the fact that they were just ugly.

The closet had clothes hanging up, but most were on the floor in a pile. I only saw one lone pair of shoes, which made me wonder how two guys survived with three pairs of shoes between them, assuming they currently both had shoes on their feet. There was a dresser in the corner that had been painted black but was chipping off everywhere, showing the original oak stain beneath it. There were a few things on top, like earbuds, a couple of dollars in change, and a receipt for the gas station. A Twix bar and a Dr Pepper. Yes, I looked.

It was nothing like the way I’d grown up, my mother’s personal doll to dress and show off, the house a tribute to God and the almighty dollar.

“What’s up!” Kylie said as she answered.

Her energy amazed me. Or maybe it was her inability to ever feel depressed. I envied that about her, and sometimes wondered if we were friends because I wanted to leech some of that positivity off of her. But I couldn’t be that selfish, could I? I loved Kylie like a sister and we had been friends since middle school, when we both made the volleyball team, and we had been an inseparable pair ever since. In college we had just added Rory to our friendship.

“Hey. What are you doing? You didn’t drop my stuff off yet, did you?” The plan was for Kylie to take my dorm junk to my parents’ house for the summer to store since they had plenty of room. Kylie’s family had a typical suburban brick colonial, a decent size, but nothing like my house, plus she had three younger siblings, so their house was loaded down with sports equipment.

“No, I’ll do it tomorrow. Tonight I’m going to dinner with my parents.”

“Okay, cool. Remember what you have to say to my mom. My dad won’t be there during the day so you won’t have to see him. You have to tell my mom that I will call her from Appalachia.”

“I know. No worries. I won’t screw it up.”

Kylie and Rory knew the truth, of course, but Kylie was the only one I would ask to directly lie on my behalf. I trusted her totally to have my back, but the problem was that with Kylie, you never knew when she might flake out. Sometimes her words moved faster than her thoughts, and she was notorious for “oops” moments, like the one in high school, when she had told a guy I just met that my dad was a minister. Or when she had told Rory we had offered Tyler money to hit on her. Or told Nathan that he shook his head like a wet dog during oral sex.

“You cannot in any way, shape, or form tell my mother that I am still in Cincinnati. Pinky swear.”

“I pinky swear. God.”

“Or I will be dead. I will in put under house arrest until I’m twenty-one and that is almost eight months from now.”

“I know.” I could practically hear her rolling her eyes.