Sutton

A SLIGHT BREEZE RUFFLES THE SHEER CURTAINS, the afternoon sun filtering into the room, throwing a spotlight on the scene.

Vivi hums the Wedding March, her small voice echoing in our childhood bedroom, as I grip plastic flowers in my hands and take slow steps down the center of our room. I'm wearing my Easter dress, the white one with flowers stitched over the bodice, and a white dish towel draped over my head like a veil.

The music pauses as my stepsister giggles. I turn to glare at her, and she resumes humming as I walk down the fake aisle to my invisible husband who awaits me with tears in his eyes and a loving smile.

I pause before the open window, the outside noises disrupting my imaginary wedding, and I fall to my knees before it. Peering outside, I see my brother Jensen and his best friend Kelly playing basketball on the cul-de-sac. They're both shirtless; and I let out a sigh, my head falling on my hands on the windowsill.

"Vivi," I announce to my sister, who has joined me at the window, "I'm going to marry that boy someday."

The dream suddenly fast forwards a handful of years, the room transforming from day to night as a slightly older version of Kelly drapes his teenage body over me on my bed. My heart beats rapidly and I blink, the teenage body suddenly wharfing to the Kelly that I've memorized of today. All lean muscle and tattooed chest.

"Hey, baby girl," he drawls, a smile lifting his lips.

I'm trapped somewhere between dreamland and reality as my body reacts to the man in my dreams moving on top of me.

"You're so wet," a voice that doesn't match the one in my dream says, and I roll my head from side to side, trying to make sense of the two things.

I arch my body in the dream, feeling the naked skin of my childhood crush, and this earns me a chuckle from outside my dream. What is going on? I whimper as my subconscious clings to the dream even as the physical world tugs me back to reality.

Suddenly, my eyes fly open. A dark head lies beside me on my bed, but it is most definitely not the same head from my dreams. It's then that I register a hand in my panties, clumsily rubbing everywhere but the right spot.

I shriek when a finger penetrates my hole, thrusting aggressively. "Yeah, you like that, babe?" the voice asks, and I groan, trying to disguise my disgust with pleasure.

Everyone, I'd like to introduce to you the evidence of why you should never Drink and Tinder. You might be woken from a great sex dream to some bumbling idiot trying to finger you.

Realizing this may take a while—and probably require more help from me than I'm willing to give this morning—I decide to do what any nice girl in my predicament would do: I fake it.

"Oooh," I say breathily. "Mmmm hmmm."

I glance at the clock. 9:47 a.m. After giving a few more sounds of faux-pleasure, I still my body with a sigh and pull his hand out of my underwear. With a smile at last night's mistake, I roll out of bed and chuck his pants at him.

"Thanks for the fun night," I say before disappearing into the bathroom.

When I return, he's sitting on the edge of my bed wearing only his pants. Good grief, could he not find his shirt? Spinning around my room, I locate it and toss it to him.

"Not to rush you out, but I have a busy day..."

He follows me out of the room, pulling his shirt over his head, as I open the front door. I gasp, my eyes widening in shock at the man from my dreams standing in my open doorway holding a toolbox. "Kelly!" I squeak.

He smirks at me until he notices the man behind me and then he points his glare back at me. I pull Kelly inside while simultaneously ushering the other man outside, waving at him before closing the door.

"Who the fuck was that?" an angry voice greets me when I turn around.

I wave away the question. "He's useless. I mean, no one. What are you doing here?"

Kelly holds up the toolbox, not relaxing the pissed expression on his face. "You asked me to come by and fix your sink. Said it's leaking again."

My eyes widen, suddenly remembering my drunk texting last night before I fell on desperate times and opened Tinder. I can see the moment the shock registers because his face softens into amusement.

"Were you drunk texting again?" he asks smugly.

When I sputter some nonsense sounds, he pushes past me and crosses the house. I follow him into the kitchen and pause when I notice him checking me out. It's then I realize I didn't bother dressing myself, I was too preoccupied rushing the Tinder dude out, and I'm only wearing a raggy t-shirt that falls just past my panties. I straighten to my full height, pushing my shoulders back like the state of undress doesn't bother me.

He grins. "So what I'm hearing, baby girl, is that you drank too much, thought about me, and then had to use a dating app when I didn't pay attention. Isn't that right?"

He's such a cocky asshole. Always has been. But damn if it doesn't do something to me every single time. I can't let him know that, though. He already has too much power over me.

"The sink..." I say, clearing my throat.

He sets the toolbox on the floor in front of the sink and bends at the waist. "Wanna see my plumber's crack?"

"Shut up." I laugh, swatting his ass, grateful that he lightened the mood with his change of topic. I hop onto the small island in the kitchen to watch him while he works. Because, yeah, I would like to see his crack—or more like, the whole ass. Please and thank you.

"So while I was playing Tinder roulette last night, what were you doing?" I cross my legs, pulling the hem of my shirt down. I contemplate running back to my room to put on some pants, but it feels a little like showing my cards, and I do not want Kelly to think he gets to me.

He looks at me over his shoulder from his crouched position in front of the sink and then returns to his task with a grunt. "You should delete that app, Sutton."

"Why? How else will I find dates in this small ass town where everyone has known me since I was in diapers?"

Lake Hope, Minnesota is a lot of things, but overflowing with available men that are worth my time is not one of them. The town consists of two types of people—the ones dying to leave and the lifers. Although I'm technically a proud lifer, I'm not oblivious to the town's downfalls, the shallow pool of men being top of that list.

Kelly sits on the worn linoleum floor, leaning his back against the cupboards that have seen better days. This is a rental house that I live in with my stepsister Vivi. We've spent many tipsy nights dreaming of the ways in which we'd fix it up if we owned it or had any plans of living here past our lease. Since it's temporary housing, we pretend the ugly things don't exist.

"Sutton," he says with a look that puts me on edge. It's the brotherly one that is almost certain to piss me off. He takes his duty to his best friend, my oldest brother Jensen, very seriously.

I interrupt him with a wave of my hand. "Stop, Kelly. I already have enough brothers. If I wanted unsolicited advice on my dating life, I'd go to them. But since I don't, let's skip over this..." I wave my hand again. "Whatever this is...and just move on, yeah?"

"Sutton," he says again, sterner this time, completely ignoring me. "That shit is dangerous. You never know what creeps are on there. And you bring them to your house? How stupid are you? Now that guy..." He motions to the front door as if conjuring up last night's mistake. "Knows where you live. What if he gets the idea in his head that it wasn't just the one night and starts just showing up? Or stalking you? Or worse? Jesus, Sutton. Use your head."

"How do you know it was just one night?"

"Huh?"

"You asked what if he thinks it was more than one night. But what if it wasn't just one night? Maybe I have plans with him tonight, too." I cross my arms over my chest, which was probably a bad idea because now we're both focused on the fact that I am not wearing a bra.

"Baby girl," he practically purrs, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. "You called him useless and a no one. If you go back for seconds, then you must be desperate."

I scoff and roll my eyes. "Whatever. Just do whatever it is you do to that sink, so we can both get on with our days."

With a laugh, he returns to his work under the sink. After a few more minutes, he stands to test the faucet. "Looks like it's fixed, and we can now both get on with our days," he says, turning to face me. Instead of gathering his tools to leave, though, he leans his body against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. I try to stop my eyes from running over his lean, muscled body, I really do, but the traitorous bitches never listen to me.

Today, like every other day of his life, he's wearing a plain t-shirt. I'm fairly certain he found one he liked at a reasonable price and then bought one in every masculine color. It's hard to complain, though, because they mold to his body, accentuating the biceps created from hard labor. And let's not look too closely at the jeans because, hello, hormones! Where he may have skimped on shirts, he definitely did not on pants. It's as though he has them tailor made just for his particular body, fitting snugly in all the right places. I happen to know from years of gawking that his ass is one of those snug-fitted regions and I have sent out plenty of silent thank-yous to all the jean-makers of the world.

"So...I guess, thank you?" I say, trying to corral in my wayward thoughts.

He smirks, and a million tiny butterflies flutter around in my stomach. I wish this man didn't affect me the way he does. It is a constant source of frustration. If he were anyone else, I'd relish these feelings. No other person has ever caused such a riot of emotions in me. But he might as well be wearing an "Off Limits" sign on his forehead for how unavailable he is. He's far too loyal to my brother, who explicitly outlawed any type of relationships with his sisters, especially me since I'm his only blood sibling and he's ferociously protective of me.

"You don't need to thank me, baby girl. You know I'm always happy to help."

"Yeah, yeah. Such a good surrogate big brother."

He eyes me from under the brim of his signature ball cap. It's a faded blue from years in the sun and the brim has little tears in the fabric. He's rarely without it and I love the way his dark hair peeks out, curling around the edges. As if sensing my interest in the hat, he removes it, running his fingers through the unruly locks before plunking it on backwards.

"So I hear you fancy yourself a little detective these days." His change of subject throws me for a second and I blink a few times to catch up. "Your mom's affair..." he supplies as a clue.

"Ah, yes." I nod, hesitant to jump into a conversation about this particular topic since it seems to cause more arguments than it's worth with my family. I press my lips together as if there's an invisible zipper preventing me from saying more.

He notices this, of course. He rarely misses anything, it seems. With narrowed eyes, he studies me. "Sutton." His voice is a warning.

"Kelly." I mimic his tone.

Without warning, he takes a few steps, erasing the distance between us, and pushes my legs apart to make room for his body. My mouth falls open with a soft gasp at his abrupt movements, his nearness to me igniting a million goosebumps to pimple my skin. I swallow the excess saliva in my mouth, watching him with wide eyes, uncertain of his next move.

He grips my chin in his hand—the skin rough from his years of construction work—and the scowl on his face should piss me off. Yet it does the opposite. I suppress the urge to circle my legs around him, give in to the feelings consuming me. Surely, he can sense my thoughts, right? I attempt to school my facial expressions and scold my body to stand down.

He forces me to look at him, and I notice the green specks in his hazel eyes are brighter right now. His thumb rubs lightly over my chin, and I hold my breath, waiting.

"Promise me you'll be careful, Sutton." When I don't answer, he forces my head up and down in an affirmative nod. "Don't do anything stupid to get yourself in trouble or find yourself in a dangerous situation, ok?"

I jerk my chin out of his grasp, glaring at him. "In case you missed it, Kelly, I'm a big girl now. I don't need daddy's help. Besides," I say with a huff that even I can admit sounds a bit childish for someone trying to convince him I'm mature enough to handle myself. "What sort of trouble could I possibly find myself in? I'm just searching for the man my mom was with years and years ago. Do you expect him to jump out of a dark alley with a knife? Possibly kidnap me and throw me into his dark dungeon?"

With the lightest of touches, he smooths the flyaway hairs off my face and then circles a hand roughly around my neck. The specks of green in his eyes darken as he narrows them at me. "This isn't a game, baby girl. Just promise me you won't do something stupid."

He softens the harsh tone by rubbing his thumb over the pulse point on my neck, and I gulp, trying to clear the lump from my throat.

"You sure take your best friend responsibilities seriously." My voice is barely above a whisper, but at this point I'm happy I haven't melted into a puddle under his attention.

"Just promise me. I'll be pissed if I find out you're doing stupid shit."

"Why do you care? I'm just your best friend's baby sister, right?"

He glares at me, his hand tightening on my neck. He's about to say something, something I'm sure I'll either hate or secretly stash away to dissect later, but he's interrupted when Vivi walks into the room. She pauses in the doorway, blinks a few times, and then clears her throat as she walks to the cupboard to grab a coffee mug.

"Um..." she says awkwardly. "Morning?" She busies herself with making a cup of coffee, the sounds of the Keurig coming to life loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Kelly drops his hand from my neck and backs away, busying himself by checking the sink one last time before gathering his tools. He says his good-byes before stalking across the room. He pauses at the doorway, his hand gripping the doorframe as he turns to look at me. His words are directed at Vivi, though.

"Talk some sense into your sister and call me immediately if she's about to do something stupid."

He exits the room and moments later I hear the front door opening and closing behind him. It's only then do I release the breath lodged in my throat, my body instantly deflating.

Vivi whirls around to face me, fanning herself. "Whoa, sis. What. Was. That?"

With a groan, I fall back onto the island, throwing an arm over my heated face. "He's such an overbearing asshole."

She chuckles as she lifts the coffee mug to her lips. "He's kind of right this time, though, Sutton. I've told you the same thing. You need to think this stuff with your mom's affair through. You've never been very good at that. Maybe just let him help you."

I sit up at her words, my forehead scrunching in protest. "No way, Viv. You see how he is. He'll just come in and bulldoze his way into things."

"Is that what he was doing earlier? Bulldozing his way into you."

I chuck an old People magazine at her. "Shut up. It's not like that. You know he's always seen me as J's baby sister."

"Maybe once upon a time he did." She blows on the hot coffee before taking a sip. "But I'm not so sure about that anymore, sis. What I just walked in on looked pretty hot. Looks like I was interrupting something."

I fall back onto the island again with another groan. "I don't know what that was, but I do know my panties are drenched."

"Sutton Eve Anderson!" Vivi grabs the hose from the sink and sprays cold water on me. "Get yourself together, woman!"

I shriek, jumping off the island and fleeing theroom. She's right, though. But how the hell am I supposed to do that with himalways hanging around?