Twenty-Three
Winter
Iwould’ve liked to stay in bed a little longer, but I take Saint’s suggestion and head off to shower.
With my brothers still seemingly asleep, I decide it would be the perfect opportunity for a long shower instead of a quick rush.
Trying to have any time in the bathroom around here is practically impossible with so many people constantly fighting to use it.
Since I’ve been here, I’ve started alternating hair washing days, just to have time for shaving without having a brother banging on the door, shouting to hurry up.
It takes a minute of digging in the bathroom cabinet, but I find what I’m looking for. My mom always used to keep a stash of candles in the bathroom for when she would take long soaks in the tub. She’s the only one who’s ever gotten away with lingering.
I take turns sniffing each of the candles I found.
One is sweet and tangy. I look underneath for a scent name and see it’s a cherry-cranberry-scented candle.
The other is a pale color, and when I sniff it, it’s hard to determine what it is.
Looking underneath that one, I see it’s fresh laundry.
My nose wrinkles at the smell. Definitely not that one.
I place the first candle on the vanity, then turn back to the shower and crank the handle to hot. While I wait for it to warm up, I light the candle and take the time to wash my face and brush my teeth.
I test the water with my hand to make sure it’s warm enough.
Finding it acceptable, I step into the shower.
I give myself a couple of minutes to get used to the heat before I turn it warmer.
The water heater will have its work cut out for it today.
I’ve always been the only one in my family who likes to scorch myself.
While I soap up and go through my shower routine, I replay what happened. It’s hard to reconcile with my brain that yes, I slept with Saint. Not only did we sleep together, but I instigated it.
Normally, I’d freak out over something of this magnitude, worrying about what this means or what will happen next. But I’m not going to do that today. I’m just going to allow myself to stay in the moment, to revel in the bliss. There will be time to worry later.
Once I’m clean and toasty warm, I turn off the shower and dry off.
I pull on a soft sweater and my favorite pair of jeans.
Since I’m not rushing, I take a few minutes to blow-dry my hair and put on a tiny bit of makeup.
I’ve never been one to like makeup, so I don’t ever wear a full face of it, but I do the basics.
Apply some moisturizer to my skin. Brush a gel through my eyebrows, making them look neater and slightly darker.
I add a touch of eyeshadow that matches my sweater, then finish off the look with some waterproof mascara.
I leave the bathroom and creep down the stairs, careful not to wake my brothers.
When I get to the kitchen, I almost moan at the smell of coffee in the air. My mouth salivates for the warm and tasty liquid.
Saint stops what he’s doing at the stovetop and pours a cup, fixing it up the way I like it before bringing it to me.
“Bless you,” I say as I make grabby hands at the mug.
“We have a long day ahead of us, and I figured if we were going to make it through it, we would need the caffeine.” He chuckles. “Not that I minded the early wakeup.” He winks at me. Freaking winks! Who is this guy, and what did he do with Saint?
My cheeks heat at the mention of the early wake-up. But I can’t find it in me to regret how our morning has gone.
We stand there across from each other. We silently sip our coffee and make eyes at each other.
If I were a third party observing us, I’d scoff at the way we’re acting, like we have hearts in our eyes.
But I can’t find it in me to break our connection or stop staring at him.
His chocolate brown waves are a mess since he hasn’t showered.
I definitely helped make them that way when I was tugging on the strands and running my hands through them.
A warm thrill fills me, thinking about doing it again.
Just looking at him feels like it’s not enough.
I don’t know who moves first, but before I know it, both our mugs are gone from our hands, and Saint has me up against the counter.
His warm lips nip mine. He lifts me up, then places me on the edge of the counter and moves to stand between my spread legs.
I need him closer, so I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him to my body.
The kiss quickly goes from sweet to something much more. Something I don’t even have a name for. It feels like possession. The molding of two souls into one. It’s like I can’t get enough air, but I would happily go without, even if it meant my demise.
A beeping comes from the fire alarm across the room. Saint pulls back quickly and turns toward the stovetop. Shit. He was cooking breakfast before we got all distracted.
He pulls a skillet from the burner, moving it to the side, and I rush over to the alarm to turn it off.
He’s just cracking the window while I wave a tea towel through the air to clear the smoke when my brother enters.
“What’s going on?” Cypress asks, looking around suspiciously.
If there were a mirror around, I’m sure my eyes would be wide open. Trying to school my features, I go for nonchalance, but I’m not sure it works. We were almost caught.
The alarm wasn’t what would have gotten Cypress down here this fast. He must have already been on the way down.
“Just a little cooking mishap,” Saint says as he walks the skillet across the room and dumps it into the trash can.
My brother doesn’t question things further, choosing instead to poke fun at Saint. He hands Saint a box of cereal and says, “Maybe stick to this.”
We both laugh, and thankfully, Cypress doesn’t seem to notice how forced it sounds.
Cypress crosses to a shelf and snatches up a different cereal, proceeding to make himself a bowl.
“What’s the plan for today? What do you need me to do?” he asks.
Today will be the first Thanksgiving that my parents won’t be around for. I’ve missed Thanksgivings with them since they didn’t come to New York every year, choosing to alternate which holidays they visited me for over the years. But it’s the first for Cypress and Douglas.
“Dougie is going to his friend’s house for dinner,” I answer. “He’ll get picked up in a couple of hours. So he won’t be around. But we thought it might be nice to have some company.”
His eyebrows rise before he lowers them back to normal. For just a second, he looks excited, but he quickly masks his features to be more neutral.
“Who’s coming over?” he asks.
“We invited Royal, Reign, and Ella Mae,” Saint answers.
“Oh, Nora also is in town. She got in last night, but her mom has to work today, so I told her she could come here,” I add.
My brother freezes for a second before mumbling that he needs to go. He doesn’t say where or why, just leaves the table like his ass is on fire. Doesn’t even clean up his bowl. What was that all about?
I turn to Saint. “He was acting weird, right?”
“Definitely.” He shrugs like he’s used to it, and maybe he is.
The truth is, since I’ve been back home, I’ve felt a lot more disconnected from Cypress than we used to be.
Our age gap never made us the closest of siblings, but we’ve always been closer than right now.
He’s probably spent more time with Saint since I’ve been back than with me. Hmm…