False Start - Jessica Ruddick Page 0,11
his fluffiest towel, and rifling through his stuff. It was comfortable. If he ever found out how I felt about him and things got weird, I had a lot to lose. I’d had this argument with myself countless times over the years every time I got the harebrained idea to confess my feelings—or apparently got so drunk that I fondled his nipples.
Carson was like family to me, especially now when our real families were hundreds of miles away. It would be foolish to jeopardize that.
In full stealth mode, I crept downstairs. The sound of my footsteps on the stairs was masked by the sound of ESPN, which was the soundtrack of Carson’s life. Just as I’d hoped, even though he had the TV on, he was in the kitchen.
Sorry, Carson, no ESPN today. I located the remote and quickly found the movie I wanted to rent. I only hesitated for a moment before shrugging and charging it to Carson’s account. I didn’t know how to switch to mine without screwing up all his settings. Besides, he wouldn’t care. His family had money, and he’d always been generous when it came to stuff like this.
“Hey, Ziz, breakfast is ready!” he called from the kitchen.
I padded in there, keeping one hand on the waistband of the shorts. Even though I’d said it wouldn’t matter if they fell down, I didn’t want to test that theory, especially since I was going commando. I’d met my embarrassment quota for the weekend.
Carson was spooning tan glop into two bowls. I’d never been a fan of oatmeal, but he was probably right in that it was good hangover food. If anyone would know about that, he would.
I took the bowl he offered. “Thanks.” Though I was tempted to add brown sugar to it, I refrained since that would defeat the purpose.
“Wait,” he said before I could return to the living room. He took a huge tumbler out of the cabinet and filled it with water. “Take this. And when you finish it, refill it. You gotta hydrate.”
He followed me in the living room and stopped in his tracks when he saw what was on the television in place of his beloved ESPN. “What is this?”
“You can thank me later. I’m filling a major hole in your pop culture education.” I settled onto the couch and crossed my legs. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
He sat on the other side of the sofa. “You’re right. And I’d kind of like to keep it that way.”
“Oh, shut up.” I hit play. “I still can’t believe you’ve never seen Mean Girls. It’s a classic.”
“You’re taking liberties with that term.”
I gave him the evil eye as I blew on my oatmeal to cool it. “Be nice, or I’ll make you listen to the entire Hamilton soundtrack.” I’d been threatening that one for years, but one of these days, I was going to follow through. Though really, it shouldn’t be considered a threat—more like a privilege. If Carson weren’t so fond of my brother and me, I would seriously question his taste.
After a few minutes, Carson asked, “How’s the oatmeal? Is it sitting okay in your stomach?”
I nodded. “I’m already feeling much better, actually. Maybe I wasn’t as hung over as I thought.”
He arched a brow. “Don’t count your chickens. Drink your water.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” I saluted him the way my brother had taught me. Even after several years, it was still wild to think that my punk of a brother was a soldier. He and Carson had done some stupid stuff when they were younger. They’d figured out exactly how far they could push my parents and usually went right up to that line. On the rare occasion they’d crossed it, they were both so damn charming, they could talk their way out of trouble, especially with my mom. I, of course, had never gotten into a lick of trouble unless I was with them. I’d been too busy filling my time with every extracurricular activity that might look good on a college application. It had been exhausting but worth it in the end.
After we finished eating, I stacked up our dirty dishes.
“I’ll take care of it,” Carson said.
I shook my head. “I’ve seen this movie a thousand times. I don’t want you to miss a minute of it.”
“How kind of you,” he said dryly.
I smiled wide. “You are very welcome.”
When I returned from the kitchen, I curled up on the couch. Despite my love for the movie, it didn’t