Page 9 of Almost Ravaged

“You sure your gun was working?” Atty asks.

Tytus offers a noncommittal grunt.

My brother cranes his neck so he can look at me through the rearview mirror. “What about you, Sawy? You could see the laser when you pulled the trigger, right? And the gun vibrated when you hit a target?”

Ugh. I hate when he calls me ‘Sawy’ like some sort of non-dairy alternative.

“Yep,” I squeak out, cheeks blazing. “I definitely felt the recoil.”

I swear Ty’s shoulders hitch in silent laughter.

I’m mortified.

And deeply unsatisfied.

Atty continues his grumbling as I use every brain cell that’s come back online since our moment in the dark to keep my cool. It takes effort, since I’m still out of sorts. And because the guy who scrambled my mind is sitting just half a meter away.

My body still hums with desire, despite the way we both acted as if nothing happened the second the lights flicked on.

What was that? And what does it mean now?

We’ll continue living under the same roof for the next few months, and I don’t have a clue about how we’ll navigate that. Am I supposed to pretend as if today never happened?

In August I’ll move into a residence hall at McMaster University. My parents are both on the faculty there, and the school offers one of the best communications programs in the provence.

The boys will move to Verchamp, a small town north of here, where they’ll play for the Scorpions. It’s one of the most elite teams in the junior A league and a final steppingstone on their path to playing at a collegiate level and then, hopefully, on a professional team.

They’ve been working toward this for years, and two players remaining together like this, on the same team, is almost unheard of. But this move means they’ll be partnered with billet families. They’ll have to follow house rules and get special permission from the family and their team if I want to visit.

These plans have been set for well over a year.

Yet suddenly I’m desperate for time to slow down. Yearning to hit pause and repeat. To savor this moment, to relish the sensation. Since Tytus touched me, I feel like I’m standing on a cliff with my toes dangling over the edge.

Tytus Tremblay is my brother’s best friend.

My parents’ surrogate son.

My roommate, friend, and frequent companion.

Despite the quiet hope that’s been buried deep inside me for years, I’ve never allowed myself to give energy to my longing.

Until today.

Now that we’ve started down this path, now that I know my attraction isn’t one-sided, it’s like no other thoughts exist in my head. All I can think of is Tytus.His hand caressing my hip, then cupping the back of my head. His lips ghosting over mine, offering an almost-kiss.

If only this day could go on forever. I want to live out my own Groundhog Day and experience the magic of being pressed up against a stinky carpet wall over and over again.

With the addition of an actual kiss, of course.

And maybe an orgasm.

Atty throws the driver’s door open, pulling me from my obsessive thoughts. He huffs as he heaves himself out and slams the door shut harder than necessary.

I wince. With any luck, ice cream will improve his mood. Who knew that losing a game of laser tag would be so upsetting? Though I suppose losing by more than 500,000 points is pathetic.

I’m fighting back a smile at my brother’s grumpiness when the energy shifts.

Tytus and I are alone.