Sweet Dandelion

I bury myself under the thick covers, covering my face.

Why can’t I let him go?

Chapter Seventy-Three

I run my hands down the front of my outfit, a pair of jeans and a cream-colored sweater. For some odd reason I’m outrageously nervous to see my brother. I guess after all this time apart I’m afraid he’s not going to recognize me, which is beyond silly.

“I can smell your stress sweat from here.” I know Ansel’s trying to lighten the mood, but it’s not working.

It’s been two, nearly three, weeks since the almost-not-really kiss. He hasn’t brought it up anymore, but his eyes tell me he wants to. He’s continued to sleep with me, wrapping his arms around me like every other night.

His touch is comforting and I like being around him. I keep asking myself why I can’t feel something more for him. I want to so badly. I want to replace the memories of Lachlan’s hands on my body, the taste of his skin, with someone else’s, but if I can’t feel those things for Ansel, someone I already love and care about in a different way, I can’t imagine it happening with a stranger.

God, it’s so fucked up.

“I know. I’m a mess,” I finally reply, crossing my arms over my chest.

Ansel sits up from where he was lying back on the couch with an arm tucked behind his head.

“It’s okay to be nervous. You haven’t seen him in a while, but he is your brother so I don’t think you have too much to worry about. If anyone should be worried, it’s me. If he finds out we sleep in the same bed he will murder me.”

I brush my fingers through my wavy hair, blowing out a breath and hopefully the last of my anxiety with it.

Ansel stands, wrapping his arms around me. I relax into his hug as he digs his fingers through my hair, gently massaging my scalp to soothe me.

“You worry too much.”

“I’m afraid he’s going to make me go home,” I admit something that’s been plaguing me.

Ansel takes a step back, giving me a look that says he can’t believe those words left my mouth. “You’re an adult. He can’t make you do anything, and I don’t think your brother would do that to you. He misses you, but he knows you need this.”

My phone chimes then and when I look at the screen it’s Sage telling me he’s here.

“It’s show time.” I force a smile and playfully bump Ansel’s shoulder.

Leaving Ansel in the apartment I head down to greet Sage.

I spot him immediately, climbing out of a cab. His hair is a tad longer and his scruff is closer to a beard than a few days worth of not shaving.

“Sage!” All my worries go flying out the window and I run toward him. He grins at the sight of me, opening his arms. I slam into him, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. “I’ve missed you. So freaking much.”

He squeezes me back. “Same. You have no idea, Weed.” He releases me, looking me over. “It’s been weird not having you at my place.”

“Being alone must suck,” I joke.

Something passes over his eyes and he clears his throat. “Yeah, it’s rough.”

My brow furrows, I feel like I’m missing something.

“Have you seen much of the city yet?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I got off the plane and went to my hotel to drop off my stuff and came straight here.”

“Are you jet-lagged?”

“I mean, yeah,” he runs his fingers through his hair, the brown strands tinged with red and blond, “but I want to force my body to get on Paris time, so I’m staying up.”

“You’re ready for some sight-seeing then?” I’m eager to show my brother the city I’ve been living in for almost a month now.