Love Triangle Six Books of Torn Desire - Willow Winters Page 0,345

in front of me. It’s a small shotgun-style home, just like many of the houses in this area. A large oak tree sits at the crest of the steep hill in the front yard, and a smile lights up my face when I see Brooklyn sitting on the swing tied to one of the large branches.

Shoving my hands into the pockets of my pants, I head up the hill. She remains oblivious to my presence, her fingers wrapped around the rope, her eyes closed as she basks in the last few hours of sun before it disappears beyond the horizon. A breeze picks up, blowing her long, dark hair around. She looks more at peace than I can recall seeing in recent memory. I almost hate to disturb her.

“Hey,” I say.

She startles, her eyes flinging open, a hand flying to her chest. When her gaze lands on me, she blows out a long breath.

“Dammit, Drew. You scared me.”

“I didn’t mean to, but I had to come talk to you.” When I nod toward the setting sun, her mouth curves up in understanding.

“Never go to sleep without making up,” she says, reciting what my aunt would say to us whenever we’d argue as kids. It seems like it was just yesterday that Molly brought her new friend from school home to play and she became an honorary Brinks.

Even back then, Brooklyn was withdrawn, quiet, shy. A complete one-eighty from my sister’s rambunctious tendencies. Throughout the years, their personalities seemed to complement each other. Molly and I have always been close, and because of that, I grew close with Brooklyn, too. I’ve always considered her to be like another sister, which is why I feel protective of her. I keep an eye out for Molly, too, but Brooklyn’s different. I’ve lost count of the number of my fellow classmates I threatened when I caught them staring at her ass, chest, or legs. It doesn’t matter that she covers herself up by dressing more modestly than most other girls at our school, which is probably due to her father’s overprotective tendencies. Every guy notices Brooklyn Tanner. It’s impossible not to.

Now that the temperatures are rising, they’re all noticing even more. I’m more than aware I overreacted on the beach. I can’t stomach the idea of some guy touching Brooklyn. I know I’ll have to get used to the likelihood it’ll happen. It still brings out my protective nature, though. And that’s all this is. My protective nature coming out. Nothing more. At least, that’s what I try to tell myself, especially when I feel a burning deep in my stomach as I take in her eyes, her lips, her curves. I’ve never had this reaction to her before. Why now?

“Exactly.” I pull my lips between my teeth, unsure what to say. I hadn’t really thought that far ahead when I left my house. All I knew was I had to talk to her. Aunt Gigi has a way of making you think horrible things will happen if you disobey any of her rules. I don’t want to think what will occur if we violate her admonition that we not go to bed without reconciling our earlier disagreement. “Listen, Brook—”

She immediately holds up her hand. “Just answer one question.” Her gaze hardens.

In this moment, I no longer see the girl who’s been my sister’s shadow for the past decade. I no longer see a girl, period. She looks mature beyond her almost sixteen years. I suppose she always has been. Losing a parent forces you to grow up faster than you want to. I know from experience.

“Are you only here because Aunt Gigi put the fear of God into you?”

“No,” I say quickly, then pause. “Well, yes. Gigi always seems to put the fear of God into me, especially when I do something wrong and apologize, only for her to point to the sky and say, ‘Only He can forgive,’ or something like that.”

Brooklyn tilts her head to the side, studying me. Then she bursts into a hearty laugh, the tension breaking. She knows all too well how Aunt Gigi can be. It doesn’t matter that she’s technically my aunt. She took Brooklyn under her wing and helped raise her, just like she did with us. She considers all of us her kids, regardless that she didn’t give birth to us.

“But I wanted to come talk to you,” I continue, my voice becoming serious. “To apologize. I just… I care about you, Brooklyn. I