The Ideal - L.P. Maxa Page 0,6

more.” His thumb kept wiping at my seemingly never-ending tears. “I always assumed you were okay. I assumed that you were happy with being Nathan’s keeper. I guess we all did.”

I resisted the urge to drop my gaze to my lap. This was the longest I’d ever looked into Jeremy’s eyes and it was making butterflies take flight in my stomach. “I was. I am. When we were younger, when your dad was alive…” I took a deep breath. “Nate was different. He was lighter, he was—”

“Easier.” Jeremy took his hand off my cheek and it made me want to cry harder for the loss. “Well, less violent anyway.”

I nodded, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “Yeah. I mean he always had a short fuse, and he’d always let words and emotions fly, but when your dad was still here, he knew how to handle him.”

Jeremy put his hand on my thigh. In our whole lives, he had never touched me as much as he had in the last thirty minutes. And I was craving more. “When my dad died it became you. You were the only one who could calm him down. Bring his mood back to center.”

I shrugged. “I was so young. All I knew was that I could make my best friend smile when he was feeling sad. By the time I realized what was happening, how much Nate needed me to stay even—”

“You couldn’t leave him to fend for himself. We relied on you, all of us.”

All of us. That was the problem, wasn’t it? I was a child, and all the adults in Nathan’s life had no problem using me. A sad truth, and Jeremy realizing it made it all so glaringly obvious. I was suddenly so angry I stood and started pacing the attic, my head bent to keep from whacking it on the beams.

“Do you know I’ve never gone to a slumber party? I tried once. I was having so much fun. It was really late, and we were all up watching movies when my parents came and got me. Nate had a nightmare and he wouldn’t stop screaming for me.” I shook my head. “I was fucking twelve. Your mom was hysterical and my parents made me leave a sleepover to take care of your brother. How fucked up is that?”

Jeremy’s eyes went wide. “I never knew that. I also never knew you dropped the f bomb so freely.”

I snorted. “You don’t know anything about me Jeremy Deacon. Your brother doesn’t share.” I wiped my eyes and sat back down. “I’ve been kissed once in my entire life.”

Jeremy laughed at that. “Sloan Smith. I remember. Nathan kicked his ass.”

I jerked back, my tone biting and so completely unlike me. “Is that funny to you?”

“Actually that one is funny, Sloan was a player, not to mention a douche. You could do better.” Jeremy looked at the ground. “I always kind of wondered if maybe, you know, you and Nathan…”

“Really? Me and Nate? No. Not even once.” Nathan had never tried. He’d hold my hand, kiss my head and my cheek, we’d cuddle in bed like brother and sister. That was it. I took a deep breath. “Eighteen-year-old virgin with no friends. College is going to be a breeze, huh?”

“I’m your friend.”

“No you aren’t.”

I wanted what he said to be true, but it wasn’t. I wanted Jeremy to be more than my friend. I wanted him to be my everything. I wanted to open my mouth and ask him to kiss me. Ask him to show me what it felt like to be touched, to be held. But I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t come between him and his brother. Nate was possessive of my time and my attention. We weren’t dating, we’d never even came close. But I knew he felt a kind of ownership over me. It was part of who he was and how he was with me. I didn’t necessarily like it, but I understood he needed it to feel safe.

Jeremy placed his hand back on my thigh, using his hold to turn me toward him. “I want to be.”

My eyes searched his. I didn’t know if it was because we were alone for the first time, or because I was leaving for college in a couple of months. Maybe it was because he knew my secret—knew how miserable I really was. Maybe it was the way the sun was setting through the round attic window, bathing everything in