"Maybe?" I cut in. "You dictated everything from when Mom and Dad took the training wheels off my bike to when my curfew could be extended past sunset. And you didn"t even live at home anymore, Jens. I was sixteen."
He stilled me with a look. "I swear I"m not going to tell you what to do just . . ." he trailed off, looking around as if someone nearby might be holding up a sign prompting the end of his sentence. Asking Jensen to keep from micromanaging was like asking anyone else to stop breathing for ten short minutes. "Just call someone."
""Someone?" Jensen, your point is that I have no friends. It"s not exactly true, but who do you imagine I should call to initiate this whole get-out-and-live thing? Another grad student who"s just as buried in research as I am? We"re graduate students in biomedical engineering. It"s not exactly a thriving ma.s.s of socialites."
He closed his eyes, staring up at the ceiling before something seemed to occur to him. His eyebrows rose when he looked back to me, hope filling his eyes with an irresistible brotherly tenderness. "What about Will?"
I s.n.a.t.c.hed the untouched champagne flute from Dad"s hand and downed it.
I didn"t need Jensen to repeat himself. Will Sumner was Jensen"s college best friend, Dad"s former intern, and the object of every one of my teenage fantasies. Whereas I had always been the friendly, nerdy kid sister, Will was the bad boy genius with the crooked smile, pierced ears, and blue eyes that seemed to hypnotize every girl he met.
When I was twelve, Will was nineteen, and he came home with Jensen for a few days around Christmas. He was dirty, and-even then-delicious, jamming on his ba.s.s in the garage with Jensen and playfully flirting away the holidays with my older sister, Liv. When I was sixteen, he was a fresh college graduate and worked for my father over the summer. He exuded such raw, s.e.xual charisma that I gave my virginity to a fumbling, forgettable boy in my cla.s.s, trying to relieve the ache I felt just being near Will.
I was pretty sure my sister had kissed him-and Will was too old for me anyway-but behind closed doors, and in the secret s.p.a.ce of my own heart, I could admit that Will Sumner was the first boy I"d ever wanted to kiss, and the first boy who eventually drove me to slip my hand under the sheets, thinking of him in the darkness of my own room.
Of his devilish playful smile and the hair that seemed intent on falling over his right eye.
Of his smooth, muscled forearms and tan skin.
Of his long fingers and even the little scar on his chin.
When the boys my age all sounded the same, Will"s voice was deep, and quiet. His eyes were patient and knowing. His hands weren"t ever restless and fidgety, they were usually resting deep in his pockets. He licked his lips when he looked at girls, and he made quiet, confident comments about b.r.e.a.s.t.s and legs and tongues.
I blinked, looking up at Jensen. I wasn"t sixteen anymore. I was twenty-four, and Will was thirty-one. I"d seen him four years before at Jensen"s ill-fated wedding, and his quiet, charismatic smile had only grown more intense, more maddening. I"d watched, fascinated, as Will slipped away into a coatroom with two of my sister-in-law"s bridesmaids.
"Call him," Jensen urged, pulling me from my memories. "He has a good balance of work and life. He"s local, he"s a good guy. Just . . . get out some, okay? He"ll take care of you."
I tried to quell the hum vibrating all along my skin when my oldest brother said this. I wasn"t sure how I wanted Will to take care of me: did I want him to just be my brother"s friend, helping me find more balance? Or did I want to get a grown-up look at the object of my filthiest fantasies?
"Hanna," Dad pressed. "Did you hear your brother?"
A waiter pa.s.sed with a tray of full champagne flutes and I swapped out the empty one for a full, bubbly gla.s.s. "I heard him. I"ll call Will."
ALYSSA MICh.e.l.lE 2013.
BOOKS BY CHRISTINA LAUREN.
Beautiful b.a.s.t.a.r.d.
Beautiful Stranger.
Beautiful b.i.t.c.h.
Beautiful Bombsh.e.l.l.
Beautiful Player.
Beautiful Beginning.
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