Love Rewritten Page 5

  “Good.” I smile as sweetly as I can manage. Taking off my oven mitts and tossing them on the counter next to the stainless steel stove, I spin around with narrowed eyes. “So then what are you waiting for?”

  I get a rare smile, but it vanishes before I’m even sure that’s what I saw.

  He gets to work, grabbing placemats and silverware from the drawers. Aubrey pulls a bottle of red out of our wine rack, and starts to twist the corkscrew into the thick cork.

  “So Abs, did you hear about Grace and Gavin?”

  “What about them?” I ask as I pull the salad out from the fridge and wrap the garlic bread in foil so it stays warm. I hear the sound of wine splashing into our glasses as I walk around him, taking the salad bowl with tongs into the makeshift dining room we use. It’s really more of a table in an open space, but we’re used to eating like a family so a table was important to me.

  “They’re moving in together,” Aubrey calls out.

  I set the glass bowl on the long wooden table made from reclaimed wood—my father and I made it—–before I twist around toward the kitchen where Aubrey still is.

  “What?” I all but shriek. Aubrey rounds the corner with a smile on his lips as he hands me a round wine glass, more than half filled with crimson liquid. “Since when? And why hasn’t that booger told me about it?”

  I’m fuming here. Grace and I are super close and I’d like to think that if she made that sort of decision, she’d at least tell me about it, if not discuss it.

  We’re girls after all, we deliberate and debate everything!

  Xander chuckles at my response, but I’m ignoring him right now as my eyes stare into Aubrey’s green ones, a little hurt that he knows about it before I do. “Chill out over there, Miss Angry Pants. He just asked her.”

  “First of all,” I point at Aubrey, “that’s the lamest name ever.”

  “It really is.” Xander chuckles.

  I point my finger at him next without taking my eyes off of Aubrey. “Second of all,” I continue like I wasn’t interrupted, “just asked her when?”

  Aubrey shrugs, looking over to Xander to help him out. “I don’t know. Ask his former roommate. Can we sit? I’m wasting away over here.”

  “Hardly,” I snort, but sit down all the same and serve both of them salad into their bowls. “Wait.” I pause, salad thongs suspended in the air over Xander’s bowl. Looking him in the eyes, he looks back at me for once, though not fully. “What do you mean former roommate?” I put the greens and veggies in his bowl before sitting back down to serve myself. “Did they kick you out or something?”

  Xander shakes his head, looking at the table. “No, he’s moving in with Grace. Her apartment is nicer than ours.”

  “Oh.” I’m a little stunned by this, and if I wasn’t playing for team I-hate-Xander right now, I’d probably feel bad for him. “Who are you going to have move in with you?”

  Xander’s eyes move over to Aubrey’s for a flash before coming back to the table in front of my plate. “I’m not.”

  “What?” I’m confused.

  Aubrey clears his throat, leaning forward over the table, pinning me with his eyes. “Xander is going to move in with us.”

  I laugh. I just can’t help it. Surely, he must be joking.

  But they’re strangely quiet and my laughing subsides as I glance back and forth between their serious and hesitant expressions. “You have to be kidding me?” No response. I point my fork, prongs out towards Xander, while my eyes are locked on Aubrey’s. “He can’t stand me.” And then I drop my fork, making a loud clanking sound against my plate. “Wait.” I hold my hands up, palms facing out. “Are you kicking me out? Is that what this little chat is about?”

  Aubrey snorts. “Of course not. Stop being so dramatic.”

  “Then just what the absolute fuck, Aubrey? You invite your man-lover to move in with us without even talking to me about it first?”

  Aubrey shrugs like it’s not the big deal I’m making it out to be. “It will help with the rent, Abby. We’ll have more money left over for whatever. You can save that shit for when we graduate. I know you’re already stressing about that.” Aubrey’s eyes become pleading, as he folds his hands on the table staring at me.

  “But you should have talked to me about this, Aubrey.” Much of the fight in my voice is gone. Now I’m just hurt. “I live here too. The fact that you totally disregarded that fact is really messed up.”

  He nods solemnly. “I didn’t know if you’d say yes.” Aubrey finally has the decency to look bashful, and maybe a little regretful. Or am I just reading into this? Because my twin doesn’t do either of those two emotions.

  I notice that Xander is oddly quiet.

  My eyes scan over to him because I’m shocked he’d even want to do this. “Is this a done deal?” They both nod. “Well, fuck me sideways.”

  I stand, taking my salad bowl with me toward the kitchen. I need a minute away from them without their eyes on me, manipulating me into something that I’m just not sure how I feel about. Especially after our little chat this afternoon.

  I grab my oven mitts, putting them back on before I grab the glass tray that is still steaming hot with lasagna.

  “Go in the kitchen and get the bread, Aubrey,” I demand as I reenter the dining room, interrupting a conversation the two of them were having with their eyes. I set the dish on top of the dishtowel so that the table doesn’t burn from the heat. I move over to Xander, getting right up in his face and doing my best to level him with my eyes.

  “Is this what you want? To live with me? Because if you do, I will not tolerate you being an insolent bastard to me whenever the mood strikes you.”

  Xander sighs, leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms over his muscular chest and looking at my damn cheek. He’s blowing me off and that seems to turn my blood from boil to nuclear. “Honestly, Abby, I don’t plan on spending much time with you so I don’t foresee it being an issue.”

  “Xander,” I poke his shoulder with my finger, but he doesn’t flinch or do anything about it, “you’ll be living in the same apartment as me. Cooking in the kitchen and watching television in the living room. You will have to endure me and if you can’t manage to do that civilly, then I will put my damn foot down about this.”

  My face is so close to his that I can see the different shades of blue in his eyes.

  I can see his cheeks becoming rosier, probably with anger.

  I can smell his goddam aftershave and soap.

  “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

  I stand there for another moment, just glaring at him the way he’s glaring at me.

  And then something shifts. All of this anger bubbling inside both of us, makes the distance between us—which isn’t much—feel electrified. It’s snapping with static and so very charged that if I reach out, I could touch it.

  His eyes bounce down from my cheek to my lips, lingering there for a moment before making a rare trip up to my eyes.

  My breath hitches with the intensity I see in them. With what I feel coming from him. That small sound escaping from my mouth causes his pupils to dilate and his lips to part. His breath brushes across my cheek. My stomach turns into a fluttering mass as my heart begins to increase its pace.

  This heated moment doesn’t last long, because Aubrey clears his throat as he reenters the room, snapping me out of whatever the hell that was. “You two kids work your shit out or what?”

  I pull back, not taking my eyes off of Xander until I’m standing up fully. I nod my head, then finally tear myself away, moving back over to my seat around the table.

  “We’re good,” Xander says, adjusting in his seat and throwing me a glance. I pick up the spatula and begin to dish out helpings of lasagna to both of them.

  “Oh,” I pause, holding my fork up in the air that is full of cheesy sauce and pasta. “No using my bathroom, Novak.”

  He smirks. “Not a problem, Scofield.”

  “Then we’re cool.”
/>
  “Perfect,” Aubrey says, barely containing his laugh. “Now that everyone is set on everything and our panties are no longer ruffled, Xander is moving in a lot of his shit tomorrow and Thursday.”

  “Super.” I take a bite of the lasagna that is so good I actually close my eyes to savor it.

  “Yeah, he’s only bringing his bedroom furniture and clothes, because our stuff is way nicer than his old beat up crap.”

  “Dick.”

  Aubrey shrugs. “Not if it’s true, dude.”

  I nod my head. “He’s right. My stuff is much nicer.”

  And it is. Aubrey could care less about design or color schemes or any of that stuff. I’m not a pro by any means, and despite the way I dress, I did not do the entire place in black. I used varying shades of navy blue, gray and cream. The L-shaped couch in the living room is a dark gray. The area rug beneath the metal and glass coffee table is a damask pattern in cream and dark blue. It’s modern, yet soothing and very unobtrusive.

  The only request Aubrey had when I started getting furniture was that it be masculine. So the two end tables are a dark stained wood—again something that my father and I constructed—and the throw pillows have assorted patterns in all three colors as well as from the accent wall. I painted the main wall behind the sofa a deep burgundy color that I freaking love. It’s vamp in a rad way, and definitely sexy.

  “This is so good,” Aubrey moans with his mouth full of food as he shovels pasta and garlic bread in at a disgustingly fast rate.

  “It is. Thanks,” Xander says with a smile and I can assume just how painful those words were for him to utter, but he’s trying, so I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.

  “So, what the hell is with Brandon Kessler? That crap is already spreading across campus.”

  I nearly choke on my food, coughing and sputtering a little before I take a hasty sip of my wine to wash it down. “What does that mean?”

  “It means,” Aubrey glares at me with his fork pointing in my direction, much the way I did earlier, “that when I ran into Oliver McGruff, he said that Brandon asked you out on a date.”

  “How do things like that spread so damn fast?” I shake my head in total bewilderment at the gossip fest that is my university.

  “Is it true, Abby?” Aubrey asks, more concern in his voice now than accusation. He puts down his fork, his plate clear of food, and folds his hands in front of his chest, leaning forward against the table.

  “Yes.” I shrug, taking another bite, chewing it slowly while I watch his eyes turn to something resembling disappointment. “He asked me out for Thursday night. What’s the big freaking deal here? It’s just dinner, Aubrey. It’s not like I plan on screwing him in the back of his car or anything.”

  “Does he know that?” Xander asks under his breath.

  “Seriously, Abby, this is not a good thing. Brandon Kessler is known for eating through sorority girls.” He gives me a pointed look. “And screwing them in the back of his truck.”

  I roll my eyes, putting down my fork and wiping my mouth with my napkin before setting that down too. “That’s sort of the pot calling the kettle black, don’t ya think?” I ask, tilting my head and widening my eyes. My finger traced the rim of my wine glass.

  “Yeah, but this asshole wants to date my sister, so it’s different.”

  I sigh, lifting my glass and taking another long pull. I know Aubrey’s heart is in the right place and that he’s just worried about me, but I think I’ve officially hit my limit. “I’m a grown woman and you’re not exactly Dad, so ease up, will you?”

  “No. I won’t ease up. And I may not be Dad, but I am your older brother.” He points a stern finger at me and I have to hold in my laugh before I piss him off further.

  I let out an indignant snort instead of laughing, leaning back in my seat and taking my wine glass with me. “By two minutes. Aubrey, give me a break.”

  “Abby, what if he’s using you?” Aubrey yells, leaning halfway across the table, fire in his green eyes. And this just pisses me off. I lean forward too, slamming my glass on the table, making the wine slosh around in my glass, but thankfully it doesn’t splash onto my wood table.

  “What if he’s not?” I roar. “Why is it so unbelievable to either of you that a guy could actually like me? Could want to date me and not just fuck me?”

  “Under normal circumstances, it’s not at all. In fact, as I recall, you’re the one always kicking the dozens of over amorous boys to the curb, but this . . .” Aubrey trails off, shaking his head. “Dammit Abby, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “He’s a lacrosse jock who is known for screwing anything that looks at him,” Xander offers calmly, with his arms crossed over his chest as he leans back in his chair. I throw him a glare, because he should just butt the hell out of this.

  Taking two deep breaths, I try to calm myself down. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter what they think. Maybe they’re right about Brandon and maybe they’re not, but it’s my choice to date him, not theirs. I look up, first at Xander, but only briefly, and then over to Aubrey.

  “You bring home girl after girl and I never say anything about it to you, because I respect your choices. They may not be my choices, but I love you and I don’t comment. You treat women like disposable trash and you have the audacity to criticize and comment when I get asked out?” I shake my head in total and complete disappointment. “You tell me that I’m getting used when you don’t even know that for sure?” I stand up, placing my palms flat on the table, angling forward, looking at a slightly stunned Aubrey. “I am not stupid. If I choose to date Brandon, I’m going in with my eyes open.”

  Righting myself, I spin around and stomp off towards my bedroom without another word.

  CHAPTER 6

  I WAKE UP EARLY AFTER a fitful night of sleep. I hate fighting with Aubrey. Freaking hate it, and when he didn’t come in my room last night to apologize after dinner, well, it hurt. I have no idea why he’s being like this over something as silly and inconsequential as a date, but he is, and I refuse to back down.

  I’m a grown woman and it’s my life and he needs to respect that.

  End. Of. Story.

  I throw on my running gear, including my long-sleeved sport shirt, because I’d be willing to bet it’s cold as hell out right now. Creeping into the living room, past Aubrey’s door, the apartment is dark and quiet.

  Good.

  I grab my headphones, plugging them into my phone before I tuck it into my running sleeve and head for the door. Music blasts in my ears as I walk out into the cold, somewhat dark, January morning.

  It’s nearly seven, but in a college town, that’s early.

  My breath comes out in plumes of white fog to the rhythm of my steps as my feet pound the hard, frozen pavement. My lungs are already burning from the cold, but I tend not to care so much about that. In fact, a strange masochistic part of me likes it.

  The sun is slowly starting its ascent up the horizon, bathing the moderately tall buildings with the most beautiful shades of purples, pale yellow and bright gold. Sunrise is by far and away my favorite time of day. And that goes beyond the fact that it’s magnificent to watch. It’s quiet as most of the world is still at rest, leaving me alone with my thoughts—thoughts that I’m rarely able to make sense of during normal business hours.

  My world is never so clear as it is with the new sun on my face.

  Usually, I run the full route around the school, which is about four miles give or take, but this morning, I find myself slowing down as I come up on the glowing lights from the only store open on this street, Jive. The inside of the coffee house isn’t crowded yet, just a few people getting their morning fix before going about their days. So why have I stopped, standing outside in the freezing cold, breathing hard and staring inside?

  I’m not sure in truth, but ever since that fight with Aubrey, I find myself questioning things I know I shouldn’t.

  It bothers me a little to think that Brandon could onl
y want me for sex and nothing more. But what really hurts is Aubrey thinking that that’s all it could be. That because I dress a little differently than Brandon does, that he could never want me for me. I don’t really know when my twin brother developed such a low opinion of me, but part of me has to wonder if his best friend—my new roommate—had something to do with it.

  “What are you doing standing out here in the dark?” Speak of the devil. Xander’s voice startles me, breaking through the loud music pumping through my ear buds.

  I don’t turn around from the warm glow emanating into the darkness from the window, but I do pull out my ear buds. “Thinking,” is my only response.

  Xander doesn’t say anything. He just walks right up next to me, facing the window that is slowly being covered with a foggy condensation.

  Finally, after a minute of the two of us standing here like this, I turn my head to look at him. He’s dressed much the way I am and I find I’m a little surprised. I didn’t realize he ran in the mornings. I thought he was a gym rat like everyone else.

  Xander isn’t looking at me, but that’s fine. I don’t need him to right now.

  “Everyone knows my brother is very protective over me, and in truth,” a soft smile pulls at my lips as I think about this, “I’ve always like that about him.” Xander doesn’t move his head, but I know he’s listening to me, hands propped up on his lean hips. “But the way he spoke to me last night?” I shake my head. “That’s not the way my brother speaks to me. Not the way he treats me.” I turn my body now so that I’m facing his profile fully. “He said you could move in without discussing it with me first, though I’m just as impacted by the decision as anyone else. Then he basically called me a stupid whore who allows herself to get used because I don’t know any better. That the guy who asked me out couldn’t possibly like me.”

  He still doesn’t turn to me. Doesn’t even acknowledge my words. And it’s bugging the shit out of me.

  “Is it because of you?” I ask, taking a step closer to him. Needing him to see me.