Top Dog

My father was going on about all sorts of stuff I didn’t care about, and riding home with him only to be footsteps away from Grant was enough to make my head explode. I saw his car still in the driveway, and it took all I had to get in my own car and drive off.

I woke up the next morning and took an extra-long shower. Ike was off to work, and it was the last day he would be staying with me. I dried myself off and slid into a pair of fitted jeans and a top that showed off the size D boobs that had finally shown up my senior year of high school, then put on a bit of makeup to compliment my eyes. I went downstairs and grabbed a casserole dish I’d been meaning to return to Hollis anyway. I thought it made a perfect excuse to go to his place. I would act surprised when I saw Grant, just to sell it. The last thing I needed was for my brother to know I was only there to see his best friend. I’d never hear the end of it.

The dish would get me in the door and give me a glimpse of Grant.

Just a glimpse. That was all I wanted.

I pulled into the driveway and didn’t see Hollis’ car there, but I figured it was probably in the garage. Grant’s car, however, was sitting right where it had been yesterday, the sun bouncing off its spotless wax job.

I knocked on the door and waited for my brother to open. I shuffled from foot to foot, wondering how bad an idea this was. I was dating Ike, and there I was, pining for a look at some guy I had a stupid crush on in high school.

But I mostly needed closure.

I needed to know that my father kicking him out hadn’t hindered the success I knew he would have in life. Even though his car could’ve told me that.

And a silly part of me prayed that he’d look nothing like I remembered. Maybe a couple extra pounds around his once chiseled abs. And, if I was lucky, thinning hair on his head.

I was starting to think that it was a bad idea to be there. I turned around and went to head back to my car when I heard the door open behind me. I whipped back around and smiled, ready to shove the casserole dish at my brother.

But it wasn’t Hollis who stood in front of me, it was Grant.

And he was shirtless.

I fumbled with the glass dish in my hand as my eyes fell to his chest. His wonderfully-chiseled chest that was decorated in tattoos. I couldn't pull my gaze from him. I was mesmerized, standing there like an idiot, my mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out.

He was beautiful, and his magnificence made me sway on my feet.

“I um—brought these for—”

My eyes slowly raked up to his face as I took him in, with his amber brown eyes and his thick brown hair swooped off to the side and perfectly set in place. The sides of his head were shaved, and his arms were bulging with muscles. He’d grown another couple inches since I’d last seen him, now standing over six feet tall and his shoulders were wide and sculpted. I closed my eyes and took a breath.

Holy hell.

I opened my eyes and saw Grant grinning. Shit. What was wrong with me? I looked down at the dish in my hands and shoved it into his body, watching as his hands curled around the offering.

“Just bringing that back to Hollis,” I said, finally finding my voice.

I turned on my heels quickly to make my way to my car, but his voice called out to me.

“You should come in and wait for him. He’ll be back in a little bit.”

My eyes fluttered closed as the tone of his voice danced along my skin. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck tickle with his breath. I heard him take a step toward me, his body heat radiating against my back. I kept my eyes closed, taking in the moment.

It was the closest I’d ever been to him. And I hated myself for loving it.

I nodded, but I didn’t move. I couldn't. I was paralyzed. Frozen in fear and want and lust and embarrassment. I could feel my cheeks tinting with regret. I felt him move as the pulsing of his breath grew closer, and soon his lips were hovering next to my ear.

I shuddered at the sensation.

“Are you coming?” Grant asked, his voice low and manly.

My knees almost buckled at his question.

I wanted to turn around, to push him into the house, and ravage him like I’d dreamed of doing for nearly nine damn years.

But I couldn't.

I had a boyfriend, and none of this was right.