Wild Reckless

I hear the toilet auto flush in the background. “Okay, letting you go now,” I say, holding the phone out from my ear.

“’Kay ‘kay, call you later,” she says, leaving her phone on as she stuffs it in her purse. I laugh to myself and hang up for her, but not after considering listening to her shoe shop for just a little while.

I’ve slept in, and I’m pretty sure Owen has too. His room looks dark, and his truck is out front. His mom is back on her regular work schedule, so I know the boys are home alone, which gives me an idea.

After a quick shower, I head to the kitchen and fry up the rest of the bacon left in our fridge. I scramble half a dozen eggs, then throw in some cheese and toss it all together in one of my mom’s big spaghetti pots. I bundle myself, then bundle the pot in one of my mom’s coats to keep it warm during the short walk across the yard. It takes Owen a few minutes to get to the door, and by the time he does, I’m shivering out front, the snow starting to fall with some strength now.

“You brought me…chili?” Owen asks, his eyes on the ridiculous pot I’ve bundled in a brown, fuzzy coat.

“It’s bacon,” I smile. “But if you don’t want it, I could just…” I start to turn and Owen quickly snatches the pot from me. He teasingly tries to close the door after, but eventually pulls me inside quickly too.

Andrew stumbles down the stairs, his body long and awkward in nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms. He doesn’t have his brother’s build, and his youth is sweet, his chest a little boney and quite pale. He rubs his eyes, so much of him a little boy. Owen protects that part for him, so Andrew can savor it.

“Kensi brought bacon,” Owen says, holding up the pot. The mere mention of the word wakes Andrew up completely, and we all move to the kitchen, where Owen pulls out three bowls and serves up my semi-omelet creation. I’m strangely satisfied watching them both eat.

“So now I owe you, what, like two meals?” Owen asks, his mouth full while he talks, one hand gripping the bowl, the other a spoon.

“You could just make it one really nice dinner,” I say, folding my arms.

“Good,” he smiles. “Done. Tonight, I make you a steak.”

I laugh, but he steps to the side, reaching into his freezer and pulling out two frozen pieces of meat, tossing them in the sink to thaw.

“Oh, you were serious,” I say, liking the idea of being here for dinner.

“Yep,” he says, shoveling another giant forkful of egg and cheese into his mouth. “Andrew, you’re going to Matt’s house.”

“Uh, I am?” Andrew says, and Owen drops his spoon in his bowl, holding both hands on the counter, looking at his brother, giving him the look. “Oh, yeah. That’s right. I totally am. In fact, I’ll call him right now, see if his sister can come pick me up. Oh, and in case you wondered, Kensi, yes, I do talk robotic like this sometimes. I’m not pretending at all for the sake of my brother getting you alone.”

Owen flings a strip of bacon at his brother, and Andrew grabs it off the counter. “Do not…sacrifice bacon, O. You know better,” he jokes, popping the bacon in his mouth before rinsing his bowl quickly and winking at me while he dashes around the corner and back up the stairs.

“I…” Owen starts, sliding his bowl into the sink too, along with mine. He moves closer to me, until he has me caged against the kitchen island, his lips starting at my neck and moving along my face, grazing my lips. “…want to spend the entire day doing nothing, but this.”

“Oh…oh,” I say, blushing. Owen doesn’t stop kissing me, and within minutes, he has me slid up on the counter, his body positioned between my legs and his hands running up my back, under my shirt, pulling me closer to him.

“Ehem.” We pause when we hear Andrew cough, and I duck my head into Owen’s chest, embarrassed. “Matt’s sister is on her way. Do you guys think maybe you could hold that shit off for like, oh, five minutes?”

Owen smirks at me, tipping my chin up to look at him, laughing at my shyness. “Nope,” he says as his eyes meet mine. “We’ll just take this shit upstairs. And you keep your mouth shut to Ma.”

Owen scoops me up against him, carrying me backward piggyback style through the kitchen, past Andrew, and up the stairs. I slap my hand to my face, hiding again as we pass his brother, but I’m glad we’re alone the second Owen kicks his door closed.

I love the way his room smells. There’s a faint leftover scent from his cologne, and there’s a certain smell to his bed and clothes, something in the way he washes things. It’s probably just fabric softener, but it’s my favorite fabric softener in the world. I want to soak every bit of it up—and remember it forever.