My Brothers Best Friend [18+]

Chapter Sixteen

Matt shrugs at me. 

"She sent you up, so I think I'm just going to have to go over there." 

I roll my eyes at his obvious playboy ways. 

"If you don't want to date Skye, you shouldn't respond to her 'fuck me' messages either," I emphasise as if talking to a child, getting only an eye roll in return. 

Chelsea went home an hour ago, after drinking hot chocolate and extracting everything in my head about what's been happening with Noah lately. I managed to dance around the idea of last night, but she definitely knows that I've been holding back on the details. 

Fortunately Noah wasn't in the vicinity of the house to hear that particularly girly conversation since he was called into work shortly after we unpacked all of our shopping. 

My body is hyper-aware that he's home now, especially since when he returned he'd stripped off his t-shirt and strewn it over the couch next to my head before disappearing upstairs. 

"You up obviously shows that it isn't even serious," Matt defends. "You're overthinking it." 

"You're under-thinking it." 

"Potato, po-tat-o." 

I roll my eyes. "Ugh, boys." 

He sticks out his tongue and sprays more cologne onto his t-shirt. 

I feel a little sorry for Skye. With her obvious crush on my slutty brother. She must've gotten drunk tonight and decided it would be a good idea to message him - I can't think of another scenario that allows for the infamous 'u up?' text. 

I hope she knows that he's still sleeping with other girls. Even though they aren't exclusive, and it's obvious to everyone that he isn't going to ask her to be his girlfriend any time soon. Scrap that: I feel very sorry for her. Next time I see her I'll try harder to sway her away from him. 

"I don't think you should go," I tell him. 

Also, please stop leaving me here alone with Noah. Apparently I've taken all the self-control that he used to lack, and he refuses to touch me even if I finger myself in front of him. I don't particularly want a repeat of my desperation last night. 

I would rather he just fuck me.

Maybe it would get him out of my system. 

"Okay mum, I'll be home in a few hours." 

"You aren't even going to stay the night?" I query, voice high. "That's cold." 

"Treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen." 

Asshole. Truly an asshole. 

How I'm related to someone so shallow is beyond me. Our mum's a bit of a lousy cook and incredibly nosy but she doesn't have a bad bone in her body. Matt surely got all this prick-ish-ness (for lack of a better term) from our father. 

He decides he's going to Skye's no matter what I say. There's nothing I can do about it other than think about what I'm going to say to her on Tuesday to try and put her off him. 

He leaves while Noah is still upstairs. I try to convince him to be a good person but he's thinking with nothing but his genitals. 

Poor Skye. 

I spend a while routing through TV channels and sending some videos to Chelsea that she'll hopefully laugh at. I save a make-up tutorial that looks interesting enough to recreate at a later date. 

"I'm so boring," I whisper. 

These are my Saturday nights? Seriously? 

I used to spend every Saturday night watching TV and reading magazines before I moved in with Matt and Noah, and I'm only just realising how dull my life was. Now I want to go out drinking. I want to laugh at horror movies with my friends. I want Noah to bend me over this couch like he said he would.