Brea

It has been a week since it happened.

The total non-event, let's-pretend-it-never-happened kiss that plays on a constant loop inside my head. A memory that makes my body burn. It was only a taste of what that man could do to me. A crumb, if you will.

And my God, I want more.

I worked three shifts through the week, none of which I ran into my handsome farmer. I'm sure that isn't a coincidence.

My phone vibrates loudly on the bedside table. Curiously, I glance at it, seeing Nathan's name across the screen.

I almost packed up everything and left on Wednesday after a huge fight with him. Apparently, he owns a small restaurant and the fact that I'm working 'for the enemy' means I am no true sister of his. After a few colourful word choices and some unnecessarily yelling, I stormed out of his house and slammed the door shut behind me. A text was later sent that night, apologising and asking me not to leave. We haven't seen each other since.

"Hi, Nathan," I answer.

"Hey," he says.

There's a beat of silence and I stubbornly stay quiet. If he wants to talk, then he can talk. He is the one who outrageously overreacted.

"Come down to the restaurant," he eventually says. "I want to show you around. Johnny will make us a nice dinner."

"Who?"

"My chef."

"Oh," I reply, glancing to the small clock perched next to the lamp to my left. "Okay. Is dad coming?"

"Just us."

Dad was released through the week. I've been around to see him a few times, but he's almost always been asleep. He is on strong pain killers that make him drowsy.

Sliding my feet into sandals, I let the hotel door click shut behind me. I walk into town. It doesn't take too long and there is a gentle breeze that caresses my skin. A familiar ute is parked at the pub. Zander is inside. I'm tempted to show my face there just to make him uncomfortable, but I decide not to. I'm feeling just as lost and confused as he probably is.

The restaurant is small, tucked around the corner of the main street. There are a few tables occupied when I walk inside. The bell above me chimes and everyone glances up. The familiar feeling of being placed underneath a microscope washes over me. Without meeting anyone's gazes, I make my way toward the bar and order a drink.

It's small and old, but it's comfortable. Soft golden lights, warm earthy tones of mismatched leather seats and patterned tables. Soft music gently plays in the background. It fits this town perfectly.

"Hey," the bartender flashes a grin at me. "You must be Brea? You're gorgeous as fuck."

I blink, taken back for a moment. Nathan appears behind him and whacks the back of his head. The guy exclaims, cursing under his breath as he rubs his head.

"No way in hell," Nathan says firmly, pointing at him. "Hands off."

"All right, all right," he mutters, glaring at my brother. "Don't hit so hard next time."

"It'll be a punch to the nose next time," Nathan warns. Turning his eyes to me, he smiles. "Hey. Thanks for coming. What do you want to drink?"

"A wine will do."

"You heard her," Nathan says, side-eyeing the bartender.

"Nathan, don't be rude to your employees."

"Yeah Nathan," the guy smirks.

"Fuck off."

Leaning my hip against the edge of the counter, I stare at my brother. He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry. For the things I said."

Rolling my lips inward, I nod. "I won't tolerate it again."

"I know."

"I mean it."

"I know."

A large glass of wine is slid in my direction. I thank the man and hold my hand out in a lethargic gesture.

"Lead the way."

Nathan guides me toward one of the back tables. Dropping into the seat opposite him, I take a long swig of the wine.

"Have you got any weekend plans?" he asks, rolling the end of the menu between his thumb and pointer finger.

"I'm not sure yet. I'm trying to work as much as I can to afford staying at the hotel, but it's not working out great."

"Why don't you stay with dad and I?" he asks.

I shake my head. "I think that is a bit too much, too soon."

He's silent for a moment. "Okay. I know someone who has an old granny flat that they don't use. I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you stayed there. She's one of my best customers, I'll offer her some free meals."

"You'd do that for me?" I ask.

He lifts his shoulder. "Only because I feel bad."

I laugh and he grins, taking a sip of his beer.

"You did call me a self-centred twot."

"Not one of my best lines," he admits. "Effective nonetheless."

Smiling, I lean back in my seat and link my fingers. "What's new with you? Are you seeing anyone?"

"Not really."

"Not really isn't a no."

Nathan's shoulders slump. "It's complicated."

"What is?"

"Things between me and her."

"Who?"

"Just... someone."

"How incredibly vague of you," I roll my eyes. "Come on. Spill."

"You remember Veronica?"

"Your high school girlfriend?" I question, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. We dated for years. She moved away, so we broke up. Then she moved back, and we got together a few times. A casual fling, I guess. When I asked her to date me again, she said she can't because she has feelings for someone else."

"What?" I exclaim. "Who?"

"Guess," he deadpans.

"I literally don't know anyone."

"You know this person."

Frowning, I glance toward the bar. "Your bartender?"

"What? No," he scoffs. "Worse than him."

My heart somersaults into my stomach.

"Zander."

"Ding, ding, ding," he sighs. Picking up the schooner, he drains the remainder of the beer left and slams it back down onto the table.

My stomach tightens. Swallowing, I start picking at my nails.

"Are they together?"

God, please, no. No, no, no.

"No," Nathan replies. "Zander doesn't date. He's probably gay, to be honest."

The wine has barely touched my tongue before I spit it aggressively across the faded blue tablecloth. Nathan's jaw drops as he looks down at his wet-splattered shirt. Scowling, he eyes me as he wipes it off.

"I was kidding," he mutters. "Sort of."

Heat burns my cheeks as everyone continues to stare at us. I silently mouth my apology and wipe down the menus.

"I didn't expect you to say that."

"I don't think they've even gone out. I don't know. But anyone that is involved with him, won't be involved with me."

My heart thumps out of rhythm in my chest. "I don't get it, Nathan. This feud you both have with each other. It seems ridiculous."

"I don't care how it seems."

"You sound so much like dad when you talk like that."

"I'm assuming that isn't a compliment."

"Definitely not."

"Thanks," he replies sarcastically. "What are you going to order?"

"Not sure yet."

Dragging the plastic menu toward me, I skim over it. It's a little different than the one at the pub. A little fancier, which I like. We both end up ordering the same thing. The waitress takes away the menus, leaving us alone once more.

"How is it working... for... him?" he spits out as if he can't utter Zander's name without it causing him pain.

Flashes of big, rough hands on me burn through my mind. His warm lips, possessive tongue.

"Fine," I say.

Cassie has been standoffish toward me all week, which has been frustrating, since she was the only person I felt like was becoming my friend here. I can't tell if she is weary of my intentions now that she knows Nathan is my brother, or if it's more about her and Zander. She never appeared like she had feelings for him, unless she hides it well. She also could simply be protective of him, which I understand. It's obvious I don't plan to stay long, and he isn't someone who would drop everything to move with me, either. I don't know why my mind is even going there since we had literally one kiss and he has ghosted me, not to mention all the other times he has blown me off.

I have had my fair deal of toxic red flags in my life, I don't need to add another to the mix.

"Fine?" Nathan echoes.

"That's what I said."

He makes a sound mixed between a scoff and a hum. He opens his mouth—most likely to start complaining about Zander again—when I cut in.

"So, do we need to start training for this challenge?"

"I'm glad you brought it up. You need some work," he states matter-of-factly.

"Excuse you?"

Leaning over, he pokes a finger into my arm. "These twigs aren't going to be very helpful lifting a bale of hay, are they?"

Narrowing my eyes, I lean back, folding my arms across my chest.

"I can lift plenty, thank you very much."

"Sure, you can."

"I can!" I argue, my cheeks turning hot.

Nathan and I were always like this as kids. Arguing more than we got along.

"Right."

"Anyway," I say. "Do you enjoy being a restaurant manager?"

"I prefer the farm, but this helps make ends meet."

"Why do you prefer farm work?"

"No bickering amongst staff, people cancelling shifts last minute, employing people and having to give hours even when it's quiet," he exhales, running a hand through his hair. "It's a lot."

"Yeah," I mumble in agreement. "It would be."

"It's good when things are good," he shrugs. "Really bad though, when things are bad."

"It's a charming little restaurant, Nathan. I love it."

"More than his?"

The waitress arriving at the table with our food saves me from having to answer him.

"Nathan, you gotta let this shit go," I say, circling my fingers around the stem of my wine glass. "Life is too short."

Nathan pins with me his scrutinising gaze. "I guess you're right. But I can't let it go."

"Must be a miserable existence holding onto all that hate."

"Suck a dick."

I snort with laughter and Nathan sends an apologetic look to the customers around us, the tips of his ears reddening.

"Very professional of you."

"Shut up and eat my food."

Grinning, I do as he says.

"So, what do you like to do?" I ask. "When you're not working."

It feels weird asking my brother get-to-know questions. As familiar as he is now that we have been spending time together again, he really is a stranger to me.

"I collect things."

"What things?"

"Antique stuff."

"You'll have to show me sometime."

He nods. "Sure. When you're at the house next."

"How's dad?"

"Okay," he replies, looking down at his plate.

After having a generous gulp of wine, I let silence fall between us. We finish eating relatively quickly and head outside. It's a warm night, the sky dark and filled with stars.

"I love how well you can see the stars out here," I say. "Isn't the sky incredible?"

When I drag my eyes back to Nathan, he is silently watching me.

"You sounded so much like her, just then."

"Who?"

"Mum."

Giving him a soft smile, I touch his arm. "I know that we look a lot alike. It must be hard."

Shrugging, Nathan steps out of my touch. "It's whatever."

"It's not whatever."

"It is." Walking faster, Nathan looks over his shoulder. "Come on, I'll show you the place."

"Now?"

"Why not now?"

Jogging after him, I fall back in step with his long strides as we make our way through town. Hardly anything is open at this time of the night here. It's serene to walk through the streets and not have other people rushing around you and cars queuing at the lights.

It doesn't take long to get there. It's a tiny flat situated down the back of a house on a large block. The wallpaper is faded and peeling and there are tall weeds growing through the cracks of the pavement, but overall, it doesn't look too bad.

"What do you think?" Nathan asks.

"I love it."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's perfect."

Smiling, Nathan digs his hands into his pockets.

"I'll make a call."