Page 77 of Collateral Damage
“Thanks.” Ethan doesn’t seem to give a shit that I’m pissed off.
Whiskey is one that’s best drunk slow and steady, but my brother treats it like a cheap shot, downing it remarkably quickly. Then he stands as I’m sitting.
“Where are you going?” Sybil asks Ethan, her tone borderline angry.
Ethan doesn’t answer, his shoulders rigid as he strolls to the dance floor. It takes less than a minute for him to find an attractive girl to dance with.
Chandler’s staring after them like Ethan just took his birthday cake and threw it against the wall. I reach for his hand,giving it a squeeze. “Hey, don’t worry about it. They broke up, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. Right, Sybil?”
“Right,” she says, lying straight through her teeth.
“You ready to get out there?” I ask Chandler with a wink, and he perks right up.
We finish our drinks, Sybil sticking to her water, and the whiskey numbs me enough to get through this evening without causing a scene. Are we going to be friends with Sybil after tonight? Nope, but her decision to ice us out doesn’t mean I can’t make sure Chandler has the best fucking birthday of his life.
Thirty-Four
Cooper
Past - Age 23
I’m having a good time with Chandler. It helps that women keep wanting to dance with us. Chandler is eating it up. He loves attention even more than I do, especially from the female persuasion. But I’m keenly aware Sybil isnothaving a good time. She’s watching us like we’re taking a piss on her baby blanket. I guess, in a way, Chandler has always been her comfort person.
Ethan notices it too, and he returns to Sybil. They’re talking again, and I’m dying to know what they’re saying. After a minute, Ethan stalks to the dance floor.
“What was that about?” I ask him.
“I asked her to dance,as friends, and she refused. She says we’renotfriends and told me I need to move on.”
Luckily Chandler doesn’t hear this part. It would break his happy-birthday heart. Ethan finds a new dance partner, and the bright neon lights mixed with the thumping music juxtapose the awful anxiety in my chest.
This isn’t fun, but it’s not about me. It’s about Chandler, so I continue to do what I do. I make sure the guy is surrounded by beautiful woman and encourage him to show us what he’s made of, unable to hold in my laugh when he does his signature “raise the roof” move. I sure love this kid, and I hate we can’t have more than the occasional text. Soon, I’ll fade from Chandler’s life forever.
Despite the fun he’s having, that I’m pretending to have, I keep my eyes on anyone who gets near him. Most people are kind, but not everyone. I swear to God, I will hurt anyone who dares to make fun of him or treat him less than anyone else.
When my eyes aren’t on Chandler, they’re on Sybil. She’s at the table, watching us, being a sourpuss. And shestilldraws me in. Flashes of our one shared kiss return to my mind… and my body. My muscles tighten, and my cock twitches just thinking about that moment. I’ll never forget the heat of her, the way I so quickly threw away my morals to get one taste of my fantasy. I shouldn’t be thinking about that kiss, not after everything.
I’m sure she doesn’t think of it, either.
Then her eyes connect with mine, and I question everything.
Her gaze is wanting. Needy. Angsty as hell. But also sad. Everything I’m feeling. Have all the things that have plagued me also plagued her? Dropping me doesn’t undo what we did. It happened, and it was one of the most real moments of my life.
“Stop that,” I mutter to myself, shaking the thoughts away. This is a betrayal of my mind and body and especially of my brother, and it needs to end.
The song changes from an upbeat pop number to one with a low, sultry base. The tone of the dancers changes with it, people coupling up to dance close, many of them grinding their bodies together. A woman immediately zeroes in on me, which is typical, and I’m tempted to give in to someone else’s bodyinstead of the one on my mind, but this isn’t the time or place. I take Chandler back to the table.
“Next round’s on me. What do you guys want?” I ask.
Sybil shakes her head, that gorgeous hair of hers catching the lights and mesmerizing me for a moment. “Nothing for me.”
“I’ll come with you,” Chandler says, following me to the bar and leaving his sister again.
“Are you having fun?” I ask him.
He nods happily, clearly buzzed from the two beers he’s had and excited for the next one. I don’t know how much it’s going to take to get him drunk, but I’m guessing the third will do it. Everyone’s a lightweight at first, and Chandler is small.
Maybe it’ll be good for him to wake up with a hangover and rethink the whole alcohol thing. If we’re lucky, he’ll never want to touch the stuff again.
