“When I pulled up and saw the car with the door wide open…” His tongue sweeps over his bottom lip. “I don’t like you being here alone all the time. Anything could happen, and I wouldn’t even know.”
“You don’t have to worry. I have an alarm, and I’m good about locking the doors.” My heart is beating fast. He seems genuinely worried, and I hate that it’s about me, especially without a real reason.
“I will worry.” His grip tightens, and he pulls me a little closer.
The door closes, and I still don’t take my eyes off Memphis. “Sorry we’re late. They kept us at practice.” Oswald fills the room with his presence.
Memphis loosens his hold and trails his fingers softly over my neck and collarbone before stepping back. I miss the heat of his touch immediately. “Next time, I’ll come without you and you can walk over.”
“It’s okay. There’s food,” I state, not addressing Memphis’ warning to his brother.
I start pulling bags from the boxes and opening everything. Once it’s all spread out, I realize I went way overboard, even with Oswald eating as much as he does. “Um… It’s a lot.”
“It’s okay, now we have an excuse to come back tomorrow for leftovers.” Oswald kisses the side of my head when he walks past me. I glance up at Memphis to see his reaction to the casual touch, but he’s already walking toward me to follow his brother.
These two make my head spin, but I wouldn’t trade their company for anything, let alone something simple.
* * *
“DidBates forward the info about his show?” Oswald’s eyes are only half open when I glance over at him. I wasn’t even sure he was awake. He’s been quiet for the past thirty minutes of the movie we’ve been watching.
“Yeah, his set starts at eight-thirty.” Memphis tips his head down and asks me, “That’s not too late, right?”
“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. Is anyone else going?” I hope it’s not obvious I’m asking if they are bringing anyone else.
“Not with us,” comes Memphis’ quick reply.
“Just our girl,” Oswald adds softly, like he really is half asleep.
“What time are you free tomorrow?” I feel Memphis pick up the ends of my hair.
“My last class lets out around three, so any time after that.”
“Are you sure you don’t have any appointments?” he questions.
“No, is there a dress code at the bar?” I change the subject, hoping he doesn’t ask what kind of appointment it was. I can tell he’s fishing.
“No, anything you wear will be fine.”
“Have you been there before?” Talking with him is way more interesting than watching the movie.
“Maybe.” He lifts his shoulder just enough that I register the movement. “They are all pretty much the same—trendy little bars with cheap booze and bad sound systems.”
“How old are you?”
Memphis looks down at me, and for a breath, I think he might not respond, but then he asks, “Why?”
“Just curious.”
He leans a little closer and scrutinizes me. “Are you sure you weren’t asking if I could get you drinks?”
“No,” I scoff. Meds and alcohol don’t mix. I tried that once a year or so ago, never again.
“Good, because I won’t,” he states emphatically, and it makes me wonder if he doesn’t believe me.
“That’s not why I asked. Sorry I brought it up.” I turn to look at the TV, but I can still feel his gaze on the side of my face.
“I’m nearly twenty-four,” Memphis tells me in a much softer tone.
