She scoffed. “Are you kidding me? If you leave at the end of summer, he’ll shatter like a porcelain doll.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
She sighed and shook her hair. “When are you going to face the facts? That boy is crazy about you.”
“Crazy is right,” I joked. Then added, “As a friend maybe. Nothing more.”
She shook her head. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he is in love with you.”
“What?” I waved her off. “No way. Apparently he doesn’t do love.”
She shrugged. “Well he does now. He just hasn’t worked it out yet.”
I should have wanted her to be wrong. But part of me hoped she was right. I had to push the thought away before I over analyzed it. What Heath and I had was a friendship. We would never have a love affair. It would ruin what we had when I upped and left.
After two pitchers of Sangria and a whole lot of laughter, we fell asleep sometime after midnight.
I woke up on the couch to the smell of bacon and a shirtless Jesse standing over the hob stirring scrambled eggs. I vaguely remembered hearing him arrive home in the early hours of the morning.
The freshly percolated coffee he handed me was a welcomed sight after the night of alcohol.
“You’re not leading my girl astray are you, Harlow? Up drinking all night and such. I think Heath is starting to rub off on you.”
At the mention of Heath’s name I realized that he would be back too. Even groggy with sleep I felt butterflies let loose in my stomach and couldn’t stop the secretive smile touching my lips.
Piper appeared in her robe and wrapped her arms around Jesse, resting her head on his bare back.
“Heath doesn’t drink anymore, remember,” she reminded him, her voice still sleepy.
“Or anything else. Seems he’s giving up on all his vices.” Jesse said.
When Piper slumped down at the table, Jesse started to serve up the bacon and eggs. He leaned in close to his girlfriend and whispered, “I think the dude is whipped.” And nodded towards me.
I rolled my eyes as I joined them at the table. It was too early to debate my relationship with Heath.
During breakfast, Heath rang Jesse’s cell. He took the call outside and they talked for a few minutes before he came back inside.
“Wow, he really mustn’t want to sleep with you,” Jesse said, putting his cell back in his jeans pocket.
I looked up from my scrambled eggs, not realizing it had been a topic he’d given much thought to.
“Why?” I asked, a little too eager for my liking. Suddenly feeling deflated.
“He just asked us over to his place to watch the game.”
The game being the Boston Red Sox playing Heath’s favorite team, the Los Angeles Dodgers.
He was a mad Dodgers fan. Apparently he’d gotten into a fight once with an overzealous Giants fan and the two had landed themselves in the ER needing stitches. All over who was the better team between the Giants and the Dodgers. When Heath was passionate about something, he was usually over the top about it. According to Piper anyway.
“And what does that have to do with Heath not wanting to have sex with Harlow?” Piper asked.
“Because, he never invites girls over to his house. Ever.”
For all the time we had hung out together, I had never been to his home.
“I’ve been there loads of times,” Piper said.
Jesse flicked her a look. “Girls he intends to sleep with.”
“I would assume that’s why he would invite girls back to his house,” I suggested.
Jesse shook his head. “I’ve known Heath for most my life and not once has he ever invited a girl around to his house. He doesn’t want them knowing where he lives. Once he’s …” He looked apologetic. “You know … been with them … he doesn’t want them just dropping in. He has enough problems with girls stalking him at The Palace and the venues we play at.”
“Talk about an occupational hazard,” I muttered, returning to my magazine, preferring to read about the bizarre OCDs of some Hollywood celebrities, than to talk about Heath and his conquests.
“So what do you think?” Piper asked.
“About Heath’s lack of sexual interest in me?” I flicked the page of my magazine. “Great!”
“No, about going to watch the game at his place this afternoon?”
The day stretched ahead of me with no plans. “Sure. Why not.”
* * * * *
We stopped at Trader Joes for Cheetos and Budweisers along the way and then a short drive later, Jesse pulled up his Charger out the front of a nice brick and tile home on Baltimore. The house was partially hidden from the street by palm and jacaranda trees, but I could see it had a large, covered-in porch out the front and large stone steps down to the grass. A Harley and an old beat-up van sat in the driveway, alongside a mean looking black Dodge Challenger.
The front door was open and I could hear the sound of the television.
When Jesse called out, a guy who was obviously Heath’s brother appeared in the doorway.
It had to be Leigh. He was an older version of Heath with the same lift-you-off-the-floor-and-dump-you-on-your-ass-smile, dark spiky hair and bright blue eyes.
Like Heath he had killer dimples, although not as deep. A massive Celtic tattoo curled around his right bicep and crawled across his shoulder to his well-chiseled chest. The words “All or Nothing” curled across his collarbones. Strong forearms flexed as he undid tape from around his knuckles and I remembered Heath telling me he was training for an MMA championship. He had also mentioned that Leigh travelled a lot for his sport and was rarely at home when he was in town because he was usually at the gym. But sometimes he trained in the home gym that was under the house.
His torso was slick from his workout. Sweat glistened on his flawless skin and dribbled down his washboard stomach. He and Jesse shook hands and he greeted Piper with a kiss on the cheek.
When it came to me his baby blues twinkled and he grinned broadly. “So you’re the H-bomb.”
My cheeks went red under his appraisal. “Harlow,” I managed to mumble.
He kissed me on the cheek and I was caught in a cloud of pure male testosterone and the musky scent of his deodorant.
He nodded and stood back, shaking his head and grinning, before saying, “Baby brother.” Like Heath had achieved something monumental.
Whatever. It was obviously some private joke between the two brothers.
“Heath invited us around to watch the game,” Jesse explained walking in, Budweiser’s under his arm and Piper under the other.
“The douche is in the shower,” Leigh said, and then looking at me with a grin added, “Probably prettying himself up for company.”
He led us into the lounge room. The house was an old family home centered around the main lounge room which was huge. Kitchen and dining were to the left, bathrooms and bedrooms to the right. In the center of it all was a massive plasma television that almost took up the entire length of one wall. Three couches were arranged in an L shape in front, for maximum viewing.
“Make yourselves at home guys. Want me to put those in the fridge?” Leigh offered, nodding towards the beers.
As he disappeared into the kitchen, a door in the hallway opened and Heath appeared. Freshly showered he padded out from the bathroom with only a towel hanging off his hips.
Oh.
Hell!
Before I could stop them, my eyes crawled up the length of his flawless torso of thick muscles to the deeply defined perfection of his chest, and across the broad expanse of powerful shoulders.
My mouth fell open. Damp skin still sparkled with water and his short hair was wet and spiky.
I hurriedly dragged my eyes away and shifted awkwardly on the spot, determined not to be affected by him. He would find that amusing. Hilarious even. So I put on my most nonchalant face and feigned disinterest. I wasn’t about to let him see the affect he had on me being so … undressed.
As I drew my eyes up I found his beautiful blue eyes twinkling over at me in amusement.