My Brother's Roommate

“You’ve put on some love chub.”She hadn’t expected anymore from her older brother, Lucas. Eight years older than her but none the wiser. He’d looked the same since he graduated seventeen years before. His career in the military had only added to his good looks. Turns out girls really like big arms, tattoos and Marine cuts, who would have thought?  Plus having a purple heart because you saved someone’s life really gets ‘em hot. Hence the nice farm house he lived in with four-wheelers and ATVs, on top of owning the small lumber store down town, he had done well for himself, which put a lot of pressure on her to do so, too. “Yep,” he said, picking her up a bit from the floor. “Definitely love chub.”“Wow, I feel so beautiful. Thank you for that.” Sadly, he wasn’t wrong per se.  She had put on some weight in the last few years but it had turned int

“Breakfast!” she shouted. It didn’t surprise her that no one answered. She’d gotten into the grove of getting up early for classes for a while. Her brother was used to waking up when he wanted since he hired a manager to look after the lumber store for him. “Lucas!” she shouted again. Nothing.She took the last piece of bacon off of the griddle and put it on the paper towel with the rest to drain. Lucas made a grunt from the other room after a few moments, which gave her a few minutes before he actually made it to the kitchen. She wiped her hands on the kitchen towel and looked out of the blinds. Patch’s motorcycle wasn’t there which shocked her. Where did he have to go that early in the morning, not that it was her business, but she was a little curious. Lucas’ shuffled in a few short minutes later, no shirt and a pair of basketball shorts riding lo

The house was quiet when Delaney arrived home that afternoon. Her brother left a note for her not to wait up, he had plans, which gave her some time to herself, not that she needed it but a little time to drink a glass of wine and cool down didn’t sound too bad. Delaney opened the chicken wrap she’d grabbed from the corner store on the way home and poured herself a glass of red wine. She curled her feet underneath her and turned on some rom-com she’d passed when channel surfing. By the middle of her glass she could feel it in her toes. It’d been a while since she drank, with finals she used every free moment to study. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep, or how tired she had grew at the store. The girls were crazy busy, but a lot of fun to work with. Delaney didn’t even mind the work they had her doing. Seeing her work on the display shelf made her proud, and she’d missed that feeling. The sound of a truck door slamming woke her from where she’d fallen asleep on the couch

The night air was thick with humidity from being in Texas, but the fun of the party distracted her from her drenched dress. Her brother obviously knew how to throw a party, as a badly as she didn’t want to like it, she had a good time. People began to crash and leave around two, so she took a chance to walk back up to her room. She’d shower in the morning before work, and wash her sheets sometime before the weekend was over with. Running her fingers into her hair, she walked into her room and sat on the corner of the bed. Her shoes were gone, she hadn’t remembered where she’d left them, and those wine coolers had fogged her brain faster than they used to. She blamed it on college, because she wasn’t a partier in then, she was there to graduate. An occasional wine glass at dinner, but definitely not a drunkard. Delaney began to unzip her dress when her door opened, and she shrieked trying to hide herself. At first she thought it was some drunk person trying to find a place to sl

So much had happened that it was hard for her to believe. She’d woken up the next morning with Patch’s scent on her brain, an overload of skin on skin action and the image of his naked mom. Not to mention the fire. Someone call Smoky Bear because Delaney is on a roll. What’s next? The forest, you say? Delaney sat at the dining room table, eating one of the donuts she’d gone out of her way to get that morning, and stared at the front page of their little paper. “What a show I am,” she whispered to herself between another bite. A door behind her closed and she turned to see Patch coming out of the house with his work clothes on. He had a James Dean, Soda Pop kind of look and it fit him well. There was that hard edge about him but something about that slow talk and gentle heart that made her want to know more. He’d been clear, but oh how his face betrayed