Page 21 of The Wrong Sister

“I’d hug you, Mom, but…” I gesture towards myself.

“No worries. I’ll get you post-shower, Griffy.”

My mom bustles over to Catherine who now resembles a tall, wet Komondor dog. I watch the two of them walk across the street, my mom supporting Catherine with a comforting arm around her, before I go to spray off. Standing under the cold spray, I let the mud sluice off of me, wishing my bad mood would wash away with it. Pulling off my mud-soaked shirt, I rinse it as well as I can, and wring it out, hanging it over the fence before I do the same with my shorts. I don’t know if these will ever come clean. Hawaiian red dirt stains heavily. I kick my shoes off and spray them clean of mud as well. I’m standing with my head down, letting the cool water run down my back when I hear a low, frustratingly goosebump-inducing voice.

“Griff?”

Fan-fucking-tastic. I’m soaking wet, dirty, and in my boxer briefs.

I turn slowly in the water, stalling. “Mina. Hey.”

She’s staring at me. I look down and I still have rivulets of muddy water running down my chest and legs. Who knows how much mud is still in my hair? I feel disgusting.

I mean to ask her why she’s there but then she walks closer, close enough that her warm, intoxicating scent reaches me, and I lose my train of thought. She looks casual in short denim shorts and a tank top. Her dark hair is pulled back in a funny, stubby ponytail and her signature dark lipstick is gone. She’s still beautiful, but a little softer. More approachable. It’s like she’s taken her armor off. She reaches up, brushing her fingertips over my cheek.

“You’re bleeding.”

I barely notice the stinging from the cut over the zing of electricity where her skin is touching mine. She pulls her hand away and there is blood on her fingertips. “You should let me clean that up.”

“I should shower or I’ll keep dripping mud into it.” The cold spray is doing nothing to ward off the heat I feel in her presence. I turn off the water and hurry inside, mostly to get away from her, to gain back my equilibrium, but she follows me. I step into the bathroom and she is still right behind me. “Um, Meens, are you intending to stay in here while I shower?” I look around the bathroom and back at her in confusion.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I need this.” She reaches around me, grabbing the first aid kit from the cabinet. “Come find me when you’re done in here.”

I blush and feel annoyed with myself that I’m blushing. Idiot. Of course she wasn’t going to hang out in here. She closes the door behind her and I shower quickly. The warm water feels good, but I don’t allow myself to enjoy it. Mina is waiting. And Catherine. I need to check on Catherine. I get out and realize I don’t have any clothes. I meant to get the spare set from my trunk before I got in the shower, but, well, Mina. I wrap the towel around my waist and go to find her, trying to will my body not to react and make this worse.

Mina is at the dining room table, the first aid kit open in front of her. I pull out a chair to face her and sit down. She scoots herself forward, glances down, and jerks her head up, wide-eyed.

“Griff. Uh, you’ve got a towel situation.” Her cheeks are blazing pink and she’s biting her lip like she’s trying to hold in a laugh. I look down and my towel is gaping open. Because of course it is. There’s a good chance I flashed my junk in the least flattering way possible. Fuck. Every time I think I’ve reached the pinnacle of embarrassment for the day, life bumps it up another notch. I clench my jaw and rearrange the towel. Mina, thankfully, doesn’t let out the laugh she’s been holding in and keeps her gaze on my cheek.

“I don’t think it’s deep enough to need stitches but you may end up with a scar. Are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor instead? I’d hate for you to mar your face.”

I scoff. “Nobody cares what my face looks like, Mina. It doesn’t matter.”

She looks like she wants to disagree with me. She often does. I expect her to say something—Mina likes to prove she’s right—but she merely bites her lip. She leans forward, but can’t comfortably reach my face. I can see her considering putting her hand on my thigh but she rejects the idea. Thank God. I don’t think I would have survived that. The last thing I need is an ill-timed erection turning this into the worst day of my life.

She stands between my legs, leaning in to reach my face and rubbing something that smells medicinal and strong across my cheek. It burns a little and is cold. She blows on it to dry it off and her sweet minty breath makes my heart race. Once she’s satisfied with that, she turns and grabs a couple of butterfly bandages. She drops her hands, struggling to get the backing off and I am right at eye level with her boobs. It’s like someone up there is purposefully fucking with me. Kill me now. They’re round and perfect and right in my face. I can trace the hint of blue veins on her pale skin, following them until they disappear inside her shirt.Don’t think about how they feel, filling up your hands, her skin so fucking soft.I swallow hard and close my eyes. I keep them closed, trying to recount specific memories of my Kuku until I feel Mina’s hands on my cheek again. She squeezes my cheek together and places the bandages, looking me over with a critical eye.

“There. That will have to do.” She bends down and places her soft, full lips over the bandages. I inhale sharply and close my eyes, feeling almost drunk with the sensations. Why does she affect me this much? Mina doesn’t check the right boxes, she burns the whole fucking list. “You’re good now, Griff. Feel free to find some pants.” I open my eyes and she’s grinning at me. My skin is flushing and I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth together. Yet another nudge into the abyss.

“I shouldn’t have teased.” I look into her grey-green eyes and see only concern, no jest. “Griffin?” Her voice drops a little, the more confidential tone settling low in my gut, warm like the first hit of whiskey on an empty stomach. “I know that was unexpected and therefore embarrassing, but I’d never make fun of you for it. From where I am, there is absolutelynothingto joke about.” She winks at me before I can respond, then turns and saunters out of the house. I sit, stunned and entranced by the movement of her perfectly shaped ass in small denim shorts.

15

mina

Rafferty and I spend the rest of the day working with our moms. We pull up weeds, propagate some plants, get a couple of new raised beds ready, and do not speak about Griffin or Catherine and the weirdness when they were here. We keep working until we’re dirty and sore, then hug our moms goodbye and head home. Raff drops me off and I trudge into my apartment, straight to the shower. I stand in there for a long time, letting the hot water beat down on my weary muscles before I finally wash. I’m wrapped up in my silky robe, contemplating dinner options when my phone rings.

“Mina Brookner.”

“Howzit, Mina? It’s Alex at Honolulu Beerworks.” Why is my favorite waiter at Honolulu Beerworks calling me?

“Alex! Have you developed the psychic ability to predict my order before I even call?”

“I wish! Although it is Saturday night, so I could wager a guess on fries and mac n’ cheese… But no.”Damn, I am predictable!“I know this is a little unusual, but I’ve got a guy here that you know. He comes in with Raff, and you guys are tight… Anyway, he’s not violent or belligerent or anything, but he’s pretty drunk. He’s a nice guy and I don’t want him to do anything that he’d be embarrassed about tomorrow. I was wondering if you’d mind coming over and talking to him. Maybe making sure he gets home?”

“Oh, ok, sure. I can be there in 10 minutes or less if you can keep an eye on him until then.”

“No worries. Like I said, he’s not bothering anyone, I was just concerned for him.”

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