The Wright Brother Read online

By the time they pulled up to the house it was with so much relief that Elisa jumped out of the van. But she wouldn’t run away this time. She was a grown up and it was time to start acting like it. Turning back to him she laid it all out there.

  “Friends, Jules. That’s what we are. Please, understand that.”

  He didn’t sign back, and his beautiful sea-green eyes grew heavy with shadows, but he did nod his head.

  Every night after that the Wrights came over. Dad had built a temporary handicap ramp to go up their stoop so that Julian could be wheeled in for nightly dinner.

  It was with shock that Elisa saw him laughing with her family, with his brothers. Sometimes even making noises as he did it.

  In fact, it was as though what’d happened in that hospital had never happened at all.

  And every day that passed that Julian would gave her a quick hello before acting like she didn’t exist at all only made her feel worse and worse.

  It wasn’t even the same guy. Yes, he was still dressed in his monochromatic shades of black and white, with his long skater hair and his mesmerizing tattoos, but he didn’t seem nearly as…well, broken.

  It was like Julian, but without all the drama.

  And what sucked more than anything was just how badly that made Elisa feel. She wanted him to stop looking at her like he did, like he saw beyond her skin, into her very soul. Wanted him to stop touching her like he did, wanted him to be just like Roman and Christian… she’d wanted all that, and now that he was, she hated it.

  Flat out wanted-to-murder-something hated it.

  Every night she’d talk to Thomas on the phone and could hardly concentrate on what he’d be asking her because she’d be wondering what Julian was doing now. Who was he smiling at? And now she suddenly couldn’t seem to get the idea out of her head that if she had a boyfriend it only stood to reason that he must have a girlfriend.

  The thought made her so intensely jealous, and then filled her with guilt, because she had a boyfriend. A great one. He’d be devastated if he knew where her thoughts were now, but no matter how many times she mentally chastised herself, nothing helped.

  Julian Wright was becoming her obsession all over again.

  The worst of it was, she had nobody she could talk to about it. On the surface they were just nineteen and seventeen and maybe if she’d been the seventeen year old and he the nineteen year old it wouldn’t have mattered to her, but that wasn’t the case. She’d been raised to view Julian, as well as Chris and Rome, as brothers. But here she was viewing him as so much more.

  She should be obsessing about the men in college, not a boy back home still in high school. She shouldn’t be wondering how his lip ring would feel, or groaning when a memory would flash through her head of them on that pier the summer before she’d left. How he’d touched her, how his callused palms had made her skin sizzle and her thighs ache.

  She counted down the days until she could return to campus with the desperation of a woman drowning.

  Today was Christmas, technically campus opened back up on the eighth. But since she didn’t live on campus, she could theoretically go back tomorrow. Her parents might be a little upset, and they wouldn’t understand why she was leaving so quickly, but if she told them it was because Thomas was returning early, they might at least understand that.

  When she thought it, she wondered if she could actually convince Thomas to come back early. All she needed to do was see him again, be around him, and away from Julian and things would go back to normal.

  The meal was jovial that night. The presents exchanged. It’d been a secret Santa kind of deal, so that there weren’t a ton of gifts being passed around. She’d pulled her father’s name out of the hat, and Christian had pulled hers.

  Her father had pretended to love the map of the campus she’d gotten him. Considering it was his alma mater, she’d figured he’d love it and hang it up in his study somewhere, but he’d actually become more animated when she’d shown him her bronze medal from her last meet.

  Christian had bought her tiny diamond studs, which had made her eyes open wide. “Oh wow, Chris, you really shouldn’t have. These must have been so—”

  “Cubic zirconia,” he snorted. “You know I’m broke as a joke.”

  Laughing as she slipped them on, she said, “I love you. They’re awesome. Thanks.”

  Julian hadn’t looked at her as he’d handed his gift to her mother. It was a rolled sheet of paper and Elisa knew without even seeing it that he’d sketched her something.

  “Oh my goodness, Julian.” Her mother had covered her mouth. “This is so…I’m just so…” She shook her head and then stood to hug his neck.

  He accepted her touch with an awkward pat to her back. And when her mother finally flipped the sheet around Elisa could see why her mother had reacted as she had.

  Julian had taken the time to painstakingly draw a photorealistic replica of her beloved rose garden. From the tiny gnomes that hid amongst the bushes, to the “I love my garden” placard her father had built for her mother four anniversaries ago.

  And this time when she glanced up, Julian was looking right back at her.

  Pretending like she needed to go to the bathroom, Elisa excused herself and instead locked the door, splashing cold water in her face.

  “Get it together, Elisa,” she muttered, staring at her crimson reflection in the mirror.

  She’d put on makeup tonight. She never put on makeup. The mascara was now streaking down her cheeks. Snatching up some tissue she scrubbed it off her face.

  Everything he did was perfect. Everything.

  “Why couldn’t he at least have one freaking flaw? Just one.” With a disgusted roll of her eyes, she walked back into the living room.

  But apart from Julian, everyone else was gone. Stopping short in the doorway, feeling a lot like being in there alone with him would be like walking through a mine field, she gripped the wall.

  “Where is everybody?”

  “The den.”

  She was just about to head that way when she caught him signing. It would have been beyond rude for her to pretend like she hadn’t seen it.

  “Come here, Smile Girl.”

  “Julian.” She frowned. “I don’t know.”

  “Please.”

  And if it had been anyone else, she could have just said no. She could have just walked away, but she was bound to Julian in a way she’d never been bound to another soul in her life.

  Each step she took closer to him made her body tremble harder and harder.

  He patted the sofa beside his wheelchair.

  She was stiff as a board as she took a seat, placing her hands primly in her lap.

  “I made you a present, too.”

  He looked shy when he said, and she wondered what he would think if he ever found out that the picture he’d drawn of her was even now framed and resting on her dresser. That it was the first thing she saw every morning when she woke up and the last thing she saw every night.

  Reaching into a black cylinder by his side she hadn’t seen earlier, he pulled out another sheet of drawing paper.

  Even rolled up she could tell this one was different from her mother’s. The weight of the paper was heavier. Her hands shook.

  “Open it.”

  “But I didn’t get you anything.”

  He shook his head and when his finger traced the length of her jaw she didn’t even try to pull away. In fact, she swayed just a little toward him.

  Julian was the magnet to her iron shavings. It was almost terrifying how much she wanted to kiss him right now.

  It took her two tries to unroll the drawing, thanks to her fingertips being so numb, and when she did all she could do was gasp.

  This drawing was different from any of the other ones he’d ever shown her, because this one was done in color.

  The drawing was of her. And him.

  They were in the hospital room. He was in the bed, and she was lying with her face on his lap. Her hair spi
lled over his thighs and her lips were slightly parted. He’d captured her likeness completely.

  But the colors were a frightening clash of hues. Her skin was yellow. Her hair brown where it was a rich blonde in real life. Her white sweater was painted a pale pink.

  But she was the only part of the drawing done in color. He, and the room, were merely shades of black and gray.

  “When I look at you, it’s like I can see the colors,” he signed. “I love you, Smile Girl.”

  Words lodged in her throat and all she could do was shake her head. “You’re too young, Jules. You’re a kid.”

  He swatted her hand away. “No.”

  “I’m almost twenty. You’re a kid.”

  “I won’t be forever.”

  “You don’t know what you want.”

  “I want you. I always have.”

  “You’re seventeen.”

  “And when I’m eighteen? What then? Will that make a difference?”

  She wanted to cry. Bawl like a baby. Because the words he was saying…she wanted it too.

  “I love you like a bro—” she began to sign, but he grabbed her hands and brought them to his chest and in his eyes she knew that he knew the truth.

  And with an inarticulate sound of pain and longing she did what she’d wanted to do from the moment she’d stepped into his hospital room.

  Elisa kissed him.

  At first he was stunned, his lips didn’t move. And just as she was about to pull back, just as she was about to run away, a growl of such fierce need tore from his throat and his hand cupped the back of her head.

  Smashing her lips down even harder on his. His tongue traced the seam of her mouth, soft and gentle, but still hungry.

  She was helpless to resist. Opening on a hungry moan, she glided her tongue along his. Tasting the sweetness of mint and coffee.

  The painting fell from her lap as she hopped to her knees, twisting around without breaking contact so that she could kiss him deeper. Explore him better.

  The hunger she felt, it was new and vast, and so breathtakingly terrifying that she knew if she pulled away she’d jump in her car right now and go.

  Leave.

  Leave him.

  Leave Sunny Cove.

  Just go.

  But she didn’t pull away. Instead she shoved her cold hands underneath his sweater and mewled when her nails scraped nipple piercings.

  When had he done that?

  But the words fled as his mouth devoured hers. The lip ring she’d fantasized about for nights was on her, touching her, and she couldn’t stop herself from sucking it into her mouth. Swiping her tongue over it once, twice, three times.

  His breathy whimpers only enflamed her more. And when his hands landed on her breasts and he squeezed, nothing else mattered.

  “Jules,” she whispered his name.

  There was more, so much more she might have said, if she didn’t suddenly hear the clearing of a throat.

  Shocked, she snapped back.

  Julian looked confused for a moment, until he glanced over his shoulder and spotted her very startled-looking father.

  “Oh. My. Oh no.” She shook her head. “I’m, I didn’t…” And without looking at Julian, she swiped up her drawing and ran out of there.

  Elisa left early the next morning, never getting a chance to say goodbye to him.

  When she got back to campus, she stopped writing Julian.

  It was over.

  It had to be.

  Forever.

  She didn’t go back home for spring break. And when summer rolled around she signed up to go abroad in Italy. That was where she turned twenty. And that was also where she gave Thomas her virginity.

  And though she never really forgot that kiss or Julian Wright, it was finally easier to breathe.

  Chapter 7

  “Mom, no, I’m not coming home for Christmas break. I’m really busy.” Elisa kicked her feet up on the sofa and leaned her head back, as Missy—Chastity’s fat tabby—tried to make herself comfortable on top of her head.

  Giving her a gentle shove off, she sighed.

  “Elisa Jane. You haven’t come home all year. Now your father and I have been very patient, coming up to see you whenever we can, but honey, I think you know this isn’t fair. It’s your turn, you owe us.”

  Closing her eyes, she wondered why her father had never told her mother about what he’d caught her doing with Julian that night in the living room.

  It would almost have been easier, because she didn’t know, and now the thought of bringing it up broke Elisa out in a cold sweat.

  Julian turned eighteen tomorrow.

  She’d been thinking about it all day. Which was ridiculous. They hadn’t spoken in nearly a year. At this point he was probably so over her it wasn’t even funny.

  She should have been entirely over him too.

  She thought she was.

  Until today.

  Until the only thought she kept having was that after today he was legal. What a sad, sad person she was.

  “I don’t know, Mom. Thomas has asked me to go skiing with him this year, but I’m also watching Chastity’s cat.”

  “Bring that filthy animal here, and like hell you’ll go to a ski lodge. You make time for your family, young lady.”

  A hard knock sounding on the door spared her from having to answer. “Mom, that’s my door.”

  “It’s eleven o’clock at night, who in the world could possibly be—”

  “Mum, you do realize I’m almost twenty-one, right?”

  She sighed. “Don’t remind me. We’re setting a place for you at our table, Elisa Jane. You’d better show up.”

  “Goodbye,” she said as the pounding increased.

  Hanging up, she grumbled under her breath. She wasn’t expecting anyone, so it had to be Thomas. Chastity was already home. He was probably showing up for a late night booty call.

  Not that she minded, but she minded.

  “Thomas, what?” she groused as she swung the door wide and then yipped when not Thomas, but Julian Wright stared back at her.

  “Holy shit!” She covered her mouth and peered over his shoulder to see if any of the other Wrights had shown up. Parked out in front of her apartment was the beat-up Corolla.

  How in the hell had he found her apartment? He’d never been here before.

  Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, she looked slowly back at him. A strange flash of memory came to her then. In tenth grade science class she’d been forced to watch a nature documentary about deer. Beautiful, graceful, stupid deer. There’d been one scene in particular that had imprinted itself on her mind. A speckled doe had been minding her own business, munching on sweet blades of saw grass, and then suddenly its head had snapped up, and, standing very still, it’d scented the air. And all the fine hairs on Elisa’s arms had gone up when the camera had zoomed right to show the shadowy image of a gray wolf hiding in brush. The deer had tried to run away, but it had only managed to take two steps before the wolf brought it down by its throat.

  That’s what she felt like.

  Like she was that deer and Julian Wright was the big bad wolf.

  Dressed entirely in black, his gaze was intense.

  Julian was a man.

  Her pulse thundered.

  No longer was he hinting at manhood, or just a scrawny, skinny boy.

  He’d filled out nicely.

  Even under the layers of clothes she could see the fine definition of muscle. Not only did he have the lip ring still, the one that would sometimes wake her up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night when she’d dream about that thing moving across places it never had before, but he also had gauges in both ears. They weren’t stretched wide, but they were definitely stretched, and he was looking at her with the kind of force she’d only ever witnessed in that documentary.

  He shivered and that’s when she noticed that fat flakes of snow drifted outside her door. She couldn’t leave him out there, but she wasn’t
sure she should bring him in either.

  Throwing caution to the wind, she grabbed his hand and pulled him in. “Jules, you must be freezing, come inside.”

  And even as she did it she couldn’t help but glance down the street one final time, feeling entirely too guilty for her peace of mind. What if someone walked by who knew her, knew Thomas? What would they think, or say?

  But the street was deserted.

  He stepped in, and she closed the door quickly.

  It wasn’t until she turned around and looked at his back that she felt like her comfortable apartment was suddenly cramped and too small. With fingers that shook just a little, she helped him out of his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack Chastity had found at a garage sale last year.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked when she finally walked back in front of him.

  For the longest time he didn’t say anything, not when he walked into her living room, not when he sat on her couch, and not even when she sat across from him on Chas’s boyfriend’s hideous taupe-colored recliner. Some piece of crap thing he’d found just lazing about outside of a dumpster a few weeks back.

  Elisa hadn’t wanted the flea-ridden thing in her house, but now she had to admit that ugly as it was, it was more comfortable than anything else they had in the apartment.

  Leaning back on the couch, Julian seemed to be grappling with his words. His fingers kept twitching on his thighs.

  Trying to break the ice, because she was still totally shocked that he was here, she signed, “You walk good.”

  “Thanks.”

  She nodded and tried to hide the sigh when he didn’t take a lead off her cue to say something.

  Elisa had to admit, though, it was good to see him walking with barely a trace of a limp. Even though she’d stopped writing to Julian personally, she’d never stopped asking about him.

  In fact, she’d taken to calling Lori every so often to find out how physical therapy was going. It was how she knew that he’d flown through therapy much faster than his doctors had anticipated. Instead of a year, he’d learned to walk on his own after only five months.

  He was also going to be graduating with honors and was even now trying to figure out where to apply to go to college.