Unleashing My Boyfriend's Brother Desires

Artist block

Dark blue eyes remain pinned on my figure as I pause, my mouth still opened, no sound escaping as I lose track of whatever I wanted to tell him. The anger bubbles eagerly underneath my skin and for a brief moment, I want to huff and roll my eyes. The audacity!

To just interrupt me like this! But afterall… who was I to deny the Callahan royalty anything? Who was I to scold on manners and proper behavior someone who had been raised into a royal home?

I swallow back any other comment and my lips come to press together in a thin line, while my eyes slowly move to the floor, my own arms wrapping around myself in a comforting embrace.

“I thought you were already eager to talk legal-“

A low grunt, filled with frustration and obvious tiredness, escapes him, and I stop right in my tracks before spilling any more profanities. He pinches the bridge of his nose and his eyes close slowly, the muscle in his jaw thrumming lightly from the tension.

“I will not kick you out of this place.” He speaks plainly, his voice rasp, his words low and spoken clearly, each of them carefully highlighted.

I dare look at him from underneath lowered brows, my whole body tensing as our eyes meet once more. The stormy blue of his eyes is chilling and I want to look away, but I can’t. It felt as if I’d disrespect him if I did…

“If you want to move out, you are free to do as you wish, but I will not ask you to leave, Selena.” He continues, his arms dropping at his side as he slowly starts to close the distance between us.

I press myself a little harsher against the cold granite countertop and swallow harshly as I strain my neck to maintain eye contact when he stops only one little step away from me. My heart skips a beat and it sinks into the pits of my stomach, making me nauseous once more. I wonder if there was anything else left to throw up at this point…

Alexander holds eye contact while silence settles between us, just as heavy and uncomfortable as an overweight blanket.

“Why?” the word slips right between my lips, muffled by the knot in my throat.

Alexander’s head tilts slightly to the side and he seems to straighten himself a little more, adding even more distance between us, if that is even possible at this point. His hands dip into his pockets and I feel as if he is disgusted at the thought of touching me.

“Because I can.” He answers simply and I am left completely dumbfounded as he reaches his arm up, above my head.

I flinch and I tear away my eyes from him, pressing my eyes tightly closed cowering in my spot, waiting for whatever he had planned to do.

But nothing happens. I hear the cupboard above me open and close and when I dare to open my eyes, Alexander is already walking away. The straightness of his back, the way he walks, the way he holds himself make my knees lose all strength. The man had more power in his pinky finger than I had in my whole body and this was not the first time I had become painfully aware of this.

As he exits the room, Aaron walks right in. They exchange a brief glance and I have a feeling Aaron has been listening all along and I feel like a fool.

“How are you feeling?” Aaron asks as he rushes to close the distance between us.

I can’t pull my eyes away from the empty doorframe, somehow expecting for Alexander to come back.

“I’m fine…” I murmur, forcing myself to snap back to reality.

A gentle touch, a brush of his fingers, brings me right back to now and here. When my eyes meet his, Aaron offers me a smile and I feel myself at ease. A couple of memories of him spring right back to me and I offer him a faint smile.

He returns it and I can feel myself grow a little more comfortable.

***

A few days pass and stillness settles over the whole thing. It almost feels unreal. The only reminder of what happened is the horrifying silence that grips the whole house in the absence of Max. I’m not entirely sure how or what happened, but he doesn’t even reach out to me anymore. My phone doesn’t ring at indecent hours, there are no uninvited guests, there are no threats or lurking dangers.

And I don’t really know how to feel about it all.

I find myself staring at the blank canvas once more, brush in my hand, my color palette empty and my thoughts drifting off to fuzzy and uncertain thoughts I could not entirely grip or understand.

Around me, a mess of supplies and indecisive sketches lies on the floor, while I remain pinned on my wooden stool, in front of the easel that stares right back at me.

The fuzziness dissipates when I hear the door of my little workshop opening. The creek of the wooden floor accompanies the sound of the door closing and I set my brush away and turn my head to greet my visitor.

To no surprise, Aaron greets me with a charming smile.

He had taken upon himself the responsibility of checking on me as often as he could, while I remained locked in the house, for safety and health reasons.

“I brought dinner.” He confesses as he rushes a hand through his hair, reminding me of a teenager who tried to impress their crush.

I was well aware of Aaron’s intentions ever since I met him. Despite Max’s possessive tendencies, Aaron had always managed to slip close to me for a chat or two, each time we crossed paths. Of course, I’d hear of it as soon as I got home, but it was always nice to know I was welcomed in their group.

I also could not deny that I felt a little giddy about the fact that someone like Aaron offered me attention. Not only was he rather handsome, but the man was a renowned neurosurgeon. While I was nothing but a young aspiring artist, with a sketchy background and nothing on her name.

“That’s great. I’m starving.” I chime in as I get up and leave my easel behind, trying not to think too hard of the fact that I had just spent another day without being creative, while my deadline neared with terrifying speed.

I walk right past him and he follows right behind me to the kitchen.

“How are preparations for the exhibit going?” Aaron asks as we walk and I let out a nervous laugh.

“Good. Good-“ I hum, trying to ignore the haunting feeling of being useless and unproductive. “How’s everything at the hospital going?” I return the question as we enter the kitchen, only to come to an abrupt stop, too stunned to move another muscle

Aaron walks right into me, his hands tightly gripping my arms as he steadies the both of us before we’d tumble to the ground.

In the kitchen, right behind the aisle in the middle, Alexander was carefully plating three food portions, all his attention focused on what he was doing.

My heart skips a beat and I can feel myself grow a little uneasy.

I’m not sure what it was about Alexander that made me feel like this. Maybe it was the numerous occasions in which he openly criticized me, or maybe it was the fact that I could not forget the way his anger spiked so abruptly that day-

“I thought you brought dinner-“ I whisper underneath my breath, swallowing past the lump in my throat, my whole body tensed to a painful extent.

“Well, I did. But he insisted on cooking it.” Aaron explains himself, giving my arms a reassuring squeeze.

Alexander doesn’t seem to offer any of us any attention and I can’t help myself but wonder how I end up dining with two of the most famous people in the country…