Brat

Ethan Cole had been chasing my mom for years. She’d turned him down clearly and repeatedly. And he still had the nerve to grin at me and say, “Kid, when I finally win your mom over, remember to call me Dad.” He got on my last nerve. So I tied him up and tossed him onto the bed. Then I slapped his broad pecs until they swelled and grabbed him by the hair. “Is this what a father looks like after his son leaves him too wrecked to crawl?” “Stop hounding my mom.” “Or every time I see you, I’ll make you regret it.” 01 The brooch Ethan Cole had given my mom? She refused to keep it. He turned around and tossed it to me. “A little early gift from Dad, for when you start calling me that.” “It’s expensive, too.” I wasn’t taking his gift, and I certainly wasn’t accepting his favor. I gave his shin a light kick. “My dad is dead. If you want to join him, I’ll call you Dad.” He didn’t get angry. He just hooked an arm around my neck with a goofy grin. The warm, masculine scent of his cologne filled my senses. But there was nothing dignified about him. He acted nothing like a man who had just turned thirty. He blew lightly against my ear. “What a rude little mutt.” “Even if I’m not your dad, I’m still your uncle. Is that how you talk to your elders?” 02 That was exactly why having him as my uncle made it worse. Ethan Cole had lost both parents when he was young. Our families had always been close, so my grandparents took him in and raised him. My mom was eleven years older than him. He called her Sis. They’d grown up together. Later, my mom and dad fell in love and got married. By the time I was old enough to run around, teenage Ethan Cole had started chasing my mom. Trying to wreck my parents’ marriage would have been bad enough. But right after my dad died, Ethan doubled down and moved straight into our house. He’d been camped out there for years. I told him, “A toad like you has no business dreaming of a swan.” Smiling, he held up one knuckle. Then he slipped it between my lips and pressed it against one of my canine teeth. When he pulled it out, a faint tooth mark was left on his fingertip. He waved it in front of me. “Look at that. The little toad has fangs.” Immature. Stupidly, unbelievably immature. 03 Our apartment only had two bedrooms, and my mom usually came home late. Ethan insisted on waiting for her so he could make her a late-night snack before leaving. After cooking, he somehow kept chatting until it was too late and he was “too tired” to go home. So he squeezed into my bed again. Over the years, he’d taken over my bed often enough that several sets of his pajamas had ended up in my closet. He was a restless sleeper. One minute he’d roll over; the next, he’d throw a leg across my stomach. When I woke in a haze, it felt like I was wrapped up with an octopus. Warm breath brushed my neck, tickling my skin. I was just about to push him away when he mumbled, “Claire…” That was my mom’s name. Something hard pressed against the side of my thigh. I woke all the way up. Before I could even process the disgust, he leaned toward me. His lips landed on mine without warning. Heat shot straight through me. I shook with rage and kicked him out of bed. Ethan hit the floor with a dull thud and a breathless groan. He didn’t even get mad. Sitting there, dazed, he looked up at me. “What happened? Bad dream?” I smiled through my clenched teeth. “Yeah. Dreamed a dog bit me.” The shameless bastard still tried to climb back into bed, half-asleep. He reached for me. “Let me rub your ears. There, there. Bad dream, be gone.” I slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me. Get out!” His hand stopped in midair. After several seconds, he slowly pulled back the knee he’d planted on my mattress. He looked a little annoyed now, too. He stripped off his pajama top and threw it straight at my face, almost like he was getting even. “Such a brat. You’re young, but you’ve got a hell of a temper.” By the time the shirt slid off my face, he was gone. I took a furious breath, only for his scent to flood my nose again. Pushy, overbearing, and impossible. I punched his pajamas twice, just to vent. “Damn it. What a jerk.” 04 These days, just seeing Ethan Cole made my whole body feel wrong. So I started taking the long way around him. He blocked the front door one day and asked, “What did I do to offend you now, Your Highness?” My eyes flicked over his full lips. I looked away fast. “Good dogs don’t block the door.” I didn’t expect him to be that shameless. He leaned close and murmured by my ear, “Woof. Can we make up now? Don’t talk trash about me in front of your mom.” I told him I had a summer job and would be late if I didn’t leave. After a few steps, I remembered something and glanced back. Ethan was still standing there with his arms crossed, smiling at me. “I’m not making up with you. We were never friends in the first place.” The restaurant was slammed with the dinner rush. Then I got stuck with an especially obnoxious customer. Pouring his drink wasn’t enough. He kept teasing me. “Aren’t you a little young to be waiting tables?” “Come stand beside me and keep my glass full. I’ll tip you.” I refused. “Sorry, I also have a few private rooms to cover.” “If you need anything, please call me.” When I tried to leave, he grabbed my hand. The unfamiliar touch made my stomach turn. I jerked away as if I’d been burned. He stared at me, his face going through several shades of red and white. Then he glanced at the other people at the table. His temper exploded. He picked up his wineglass and threw the drink in my face. “What kind of service is that? I’m spending hundreds of dollars on dinner here!” “Some punk who hasn’t even grown his first beard thinks he can give me attitude?” “Get your manager!” I was still trying to figure out what to say when the private-room door swung open. Of course it was Ethan Cole—the man I’d just said I would never make up with. Our eyes met, and mine immediately slid away from his flushed lips. The customer looked at Ethan, and his whole expression changed. “Mr. Cole! What a coincidence. I didn’t know you ate here.” Ethan walked in. “I heard something going on in here.” The customer hurried over with a smile. “Nothing serious. Just a disrespectful server.” “I’ll complain to the manager and take care of it.” “Are you entertaining clients tonight?” Ethan shook his head. “No. My kid is working here for the summer, getting a little life experience. I came to check on him.” The customer immediately started flattering him. “Of course someone from the Cole family is different.” “If I’m lucky enough to see your young man here next time I come in, I’ll make sure he’s taken care of.” Ethan smiled. “Hear that, Julian? Mr. Carter says he’ll take care of you.” “Come here.” 05 He called me over. Mr. Carter’s face turned awkward in an instant. Ethan acted as if he hadn’t noticed. He simply reached out and wiped the wine from my chin. “What happened, little mess?” I was supposed to hate Ethan Cole. But his touch was so gentle. Gentle enough to make a dull ache rise in my chest. My voice came out almost plaintive, like I was looking for shelter. “He threw it at me.” Ethan pretended not to know. “Who would dare?” Then he turned to Mr. Carter. “You saw what happened, right?” “This kid has been spoiled rotten since he was little. I’ve always held him in the palm of my hand.” “He’s never had to suffer a single indignity, and the one time he’s out of my sight, this happens.” He looked back at me. “Who was it?” Before I could answer, Mr. Carter broke. He grabbed napkins and bent over to wipe my clothes. “I’m sorry. You see, we ran into an old acquaintance.” “My fault. I’d had too much to drink and didn’t recognize you.” “I sincerely apologize.” I’d never seen this kind of adult double-dealing up close. I’d never seen someone so much older than me bow and scrape, either. The unfamiliarity of it made me look at Ethan again without thinking. He smiled at me, his eyes crinkling. “Speak up, little prince.” “If you’re still upset, somebody’s about to have a very bad night.” A sheen of cold sweat appeared on Mr. Carter’s nose. I pressed my lips together. “It’s fine now.” 06 He took me away from the restaurant. “Come to my place and change. Your mom will worry if you go home like this.” He said it was for my mom. I appreciated it anyway. In his car, I murmured, “Thanks.” He’d clearly heard me, but he leaned over to tease me. “Hmm? What was that?” I turned my head and met his amused eyes. He was focused on me, close enough that his breath tangled with mine. I wet my lips and immediately faced forward again. “I said thanks!” He laughed, and the hand he ran through my hair only made a mess of my thoughts. 07 His place was enormous—a penthouse apartment that was several thousand square feet. I rarely went there, and every time I did, I complained. “Your place is this huge, and you still come crowd into my apartment every night.” He ignored that and told me to stay. He buzzed around like a busy bee, finding me clean clothes and a fresh towel. He changed the sheets, adjusted the humidifier, and lit a scented candle. It was more preparation than I’d ever needed to sleep in my own bed. Even after I burrowed under the covers, he kept planning cheerfully. “Hey, do you want to take a bath?” “I’ll have someone clean the tub tomorrow. You can soak for a while.” “What do you want for breakfast?” I couldn’t understand him. After spending all these years throwing himself at a brick wall in my house, wasn’t he tired of it? “Isn’t this a lot of trouble?” He leaned against the doorframe and smiled. “Not at all. The place finally feels lived-in.” “It’s usually pretty empty.” Moonlight washed over him, giving his whole figure a hazy, lonely look. I stared at his face, my thoughts tangled. For one strange second, Ethan Cole didn’t seem quite so unbearable. He turned to leave, and before I could think better of it, I called him back. He looked over his shoulder seriously, almost hopeful that I had more to say. I pressed my lips together, then said, “We’re good.” Ethan blinked, then broke into a smile. He walked to my bed and bent over me. The scent of him made my thighs clench before I could stop them. He brushed one fingertip across my nose. “Good night, brat.” 08 My mom always told me, “Your uncle is lonely. He’s had a hard life. You don’t have to be so hostile to him all the time.” For the first time, I thought I understood a little. I’d barely started seeing Ethan differently when he made another grand confession to my mom. An apartment building has no shortage of gossip. The neighbors downstairs were whispering, “Oh, please. He says he’s her little brother, but he’s sending her roses now.” “When Claire Bennett’s husband was still alive, that brother of hers was always showing up.” “They must have had something going on back then, too.” “Shameless.” My temper flared. I leaned over the second-floor railing and called down, “Gossiping about people behind their backs brings bad luck, you know?” Their expressions changed. “Watch your mouth!” “I’m talking to you the way you’re talking about other people.” When I got home, the roses still hadn’t been cleared away. My mom sat at the table, her eyes red as she wiped my dad’s framed photo. My heart clenched. My mom was such a strong woman. But she could still cry like she’d been hurt beyond words. She said, “If your dad were here, maybe there wouldn’t be so many rumors.” 09 I didn’t blame my dad for being gone. I blamed that idiot Ethan Cole. Furious, I stormed to his place. He was drunk, being helped out of a car by a beautiful woman. They looked far too familiar with each other. My clenched fists wouldn’t stop shaking. I took him from the woman, dragged him inside, and threw him onto the bed. Ethan looked miserable, his whole body flushed and burning hot. I grabbed his tie, wanting to choke him with it. “Ethan Cole, this is your final warning.” “If you ever dare to—” His mouth cut me off. He murmured, unfocused, “Come on. Let me do it…” I stopped cold. My fury plunged into ice. I heard my teeth click together. “What?” My voice came out cold enough to freeze. He fumbled at my clothes. “Give me…” “What the hell do you want?” A hard slap stopped him. I grabbed him by the throat and cursed. “You act like some tragic romantic while making my mom’s life miserable.” “And then you turn around and try to get into bed with someone else.” “You really think you get to have everything?” “You piece of trash—what gives you the right to chase my mom?” There were rules about not hitting someone in the face, especially not like that. I was his nephew. I was a full ten years younger than him. Ethan’s unfocused eyes cleared a little. For the first time, the man who was always smiling looked angry. His chest rose and fell hard beneath my palm. Heat radiated through his shirt, hot enough to burn me. “No right? Have I ever treated you badly? Have I ever treated your mom badly?” “Neither my mom nor I need anything from a filthy bastard like you!” “Do you hear me?” Ethan’s eyes burned red. The hand gripping my arm stood out with veins. Anyone would lose it after being cursed out by someone younger. Ethan was no exception. “Filthy bastard? Am I in bed with someone right now?” “No.” “I’m going after her, and no one’s going to stop me.” “You little bastard. I’ve treated you right for years, and this is what I get?” “Wait until I’m your dad. Then you can yell at me.” 10 That one line poured gasoline on the fire. I had never met anyone so shameless. Treating me right? Was that what he called watching my mom get worn down by his pursuit while the neighbors talked? Was it treating me right to start discussing my “new dad” when my father’s body was barely cold? Any good opinion I’d formed of him had clearly been a concussion. I pinned him down, my voice frighteningly calm. “You still want to be my dad?”

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