BRIANNA

12. I AM OLDER THAN YOU

JC'S POV

I froze, turning to face her as her words hung in the air between us. Worse? I was worse? Was she serious right now? I tried to rein in my anger, but I couldn’t help the bitterness that crept into my voice when I responded. "I have never slept with a girl who’s eight years older or worse, younger than me, Paige," I shot back, my eyes narrowing as I studied her face for any sign of what she was really thinking. "Don’t even think of using that card with me."

Paige’s face flushed with anger as she glared at me. "Who said I’m sleeping with him?" she snapped, her voice sharp and defensive. "I don’t sleep with every guy I meet, JC. I still have some dignity, for your information." She jabbed a finger in my direction, her eyes blazing. "I’m not like you."

Those words hit me harder than I expected, and for a moment, I was speechless. She wasn’t wrong. I didn’t exactly have the best track record when it came to relationships. Hell, I’d spent the better part of the last few years sleeping with girls whose names I barely remembered the next day. But hearing Paige throw it in my face like that? It stung more than I wanted to admit.

"You think I don’t know what you and your friends do?" she continued, her voice dripping with accusation. "You have no self-control, JC. You and your crew sleep with anything that has a v****a. I might be dating a 24-year-old guy, but at least I’m not inviting him between my legs." She sat up straighter, her chin jutting out in defiance. "I haven’t met that person who will have that privilege yet."

I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or angry. On one hand, I was glad that she wasn’t doing anything stupid with this older guy. On the other hand, I was still furious that she was dating him at all. How could she think this was okay? "Paige, you don’t understand," I began, trying to keep my voice calm, though I could feel the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "This guy... He’s too old for you. I don’t care if you’re not sleeping with him; he has no business dating someone your age."

She scoffed, shaking her head. "You’re not my dad, JC. And besides, I can handle myself. Just because you can’t keep it in your pants doesn’t mean I’m going to mess up my life like you think I will."

Her words cut deep, but I refused to let her see how much they hurt. "I’m not trying to be your dad," I said through gritted teeth. "I’m trying to be your brother. And as your brother, I’m telling you that this guy is bad news."

Paige looked away, her jaw clenched tight. For a moment, neither of us said anything, the silence stretching between us like a chasm. I didn’t know how to get through to her, how to make her see that this wasn’t just about the age gap. It was about protecting her, about making sure she didn’t end up hurt—or worse.

Finally, she sighed, her shoulders slumping as some of the tension left her body. "Look, I get it, okay? You’re worried. But I’m not a little kid anymore, JC. I know what I’m doing. Besides, you don't have a right to control my dating choices."

"Whatever you do, don't go back to that guy and stop comparing yourself to me. I am older than you, Paige, and of course, I’m a guy. What I do shouldn't be any of your concern," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. Deep down, I knew I was just deflecting, avoiding the real issue by pulling rank and hoping she’d let it go. But I could see from the way she narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips into a thin line that she wasn’t satisfied. Still, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with her attitude, not when my own head was already a mess. So, without giving her a chance to say anything more, I turned on my heel and walked away. I could practically feel her burning gaze on my back, but I kept moving. Paige had a bad habit of talking back, of pushing every button when she was angry, and I didn’t have the energy to get into it with her right now.

As I made my way down the hallway, the tension still thrumming through my body, I decided I needed to do something to kill the time before seven-thirty. The party was hours away, and there was no way I could sit around and let my thoughts fester. I headed for the kitchen, hoping that maybe some food would help take the edge off my mood. My mind was still swirling with frustration, both from the conversation with Paige and the lingering, maddening thoughts about Brianna that I couldn’t seem to shake.

When I stepped into the kitchen, Olivia, the new house help my mom had hired, greeted me with a polite, "Good afternoon, sir." She’d only been with us for a few months, but I still wasn’t used to the whole ‘sir’ thing. Her mother had been our nanny for years before she passed away, and when my mom found out that Olivia was struggling, she’d brought her into the house. It was a typical move for my mom—always helping someone in need. But it was weird, seeing Olivia, who I’d known since I was a kid, now working in the same house where we’d both grown up in different roles.

"I’ve told you numerous times to call me by my name, Olivia," I said with a small, tired smile. It felt strange hearing ‘sir’ from someone who used to chase me and Paige around the yard when we were younger. Olivia had always been quiet and reserved, even back then, but now the formality felt heavier, like she was drawing some invisible line between us that hadn’t been there before.

"I’m sorry, sir," she replied, her voice soft but firm, "I will try." I could tell from the way she said it that she had no intention of actually calling me by my name. It wasn’t out of disrespect, though. It was just her way of keeping things professional. And while part of me wanted to push the issue, I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere, so I decided to let it slide for now.

"Did you prepare lunch? I’m really hungry," I asked, hoping she had something ready. The stress from earlier, combined with my restless thoughts, had left me famished. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten anything, and now it felt like my stomach was a pit of emptiness, gnawing at me.

"Your mom said it wasn’t necessary since you’re the only one who eats lunch in the house," Olivia explained, her hands neatly folded in front of her as she spoke. "So I decided to get you a burger instead, along with some French fries." There was something comforting about her practicality, how she didn’t make a fuss but still made sure I had something to eat. It reminded me of her mother in a way—always efficient, always knowing exactly what to do without needing to be told.

"Thank you," I said, feeling a bit of the tension ease out of my shoulders as the smell of the burger and fries hit my nose. I hadn’t even realized how hungry I was until that moment. Olivia handed me the food, and I sat down at the kitchen table, grateful for the small reprieve from the chaos in my mind.

As I sat there, watching Olivia quietly go about her work, something about the scene struck me as odd. She moved with practised efficiency, her hands expertly handling the ingredients as she prepped dinner, but there was a calmness to her actions, a kind of peace that seemed at odds with the chaos that usually surrounded my life. Olivia had always been like that, though—steady, reliable, always in the background, but never demanding attention. Even as kids, when Paige and I used to run circles around the house, making a ruckus, she’d been the one standing on the sidelines, watching, offering help when needed but never inserting herself into the madness, unless we had taken something that belonged to her. She would chase us around the house until we gave it back or she forgets why she was chasing us in the first place and we'd end up playing.

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms as I continued to observe her. It wasn’t like I hadn’t noticed that Olivia had grown up. She wasn’t the same girl who used to bring me cookies when I had bad days or who helped bandage my scraped knees when I fell off my bike. She’d matured, and turned into a young woman who, by any guy’s standards, was attractive in that quiet, unassuming way. But even knowing that, I couldn’t bring myself to feel any real interest in her. Not in the way I usually felt around other girls.

Paige’s words echoed in my head, and for a moment, I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she was right—about how reckless I’d been, how easy it was for me to jump into bed with just about anyone who was willing. And Olivia, standing there, represented everything I usually looked for in a girl: she was close in age, attractive, and available. I’d slept with plenty of girls around her age, and honestly, in any other circumstance, I probably would’ve flirted with her by now. Maybe even tried to make a move.

But there was something about her that held me back. Maybe it was the fact that she felt more like family than anything else. Or maybe it was because of her mother, the way she’d taken care of me and Paige like we were her own kids. It would feel… wrong, somehow, to pursue Olivia in that way, to turn her into just another notch on my belt. There was a line there, one I wasn’t willing to cross, even if I didn’t completely understand why.

Still, the thought lingered. Why wasn’t I interested? What was it about Olivia that made her different from all the other girls I’d been with? Hell, I had no problem sleeping with girls who were three years older than me, and I’d had plenty of those experiences without a second thought. I knew exactly what Paige had been implying—that I was willing to sleep with just about anyone, so why not Olivia? But there was something holding me back, something deeper that I couldn’t quite put into words.

Maybe it was because, deep down, I knew that Olivia was the kind of girl who deserved better. She wasn’t like the other girls I messed around with—girls who were only looking for a good time, who didn’t expect anything more than a few nights of fun before we both moved on to the next distraction. Olivia wasn’t that kind of girl. She was serious, grounded, someone who actually cared about the people around her. I’d seen it in the way she cared for Paige when our parents were too busy or when I wasn’t around. And even now, as she worked quietly in the kitchen, there was a sense of purpose in everything she did, a quiet dignity that set her apart from the girls I usually surrounded myself with.

And maybe that was the problem. Olivia was too real, too genuine. She wasn’t just a fling or a distraction. She wasn’t someone I could use to forget about the mess in my own head. If I ever did something with Olivia, it would have to mean something, and that scared the hell out of me. I wasn’t looking for anything real. I didn’t want to get involved with someone who might actually matter.

Not when I couldn’t even stop thinking about Brianna. That thought alone made me feel like a complete asshole, but it was the truth. No matter how hard I tried to push her out of my mind, Brianna was still there, lingering in the back of my thoughts. And it wasn’t just lust, though I couldn’t deny that part of it. There was something more about her, something that made her stand out from every other girl I’d met. Something that made me want to know more, to dig deeper, to figure out why she had such a hold on me when I barely knew her.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the kitchen table. Olivia glanced over at me, her expression unreadable, but she didn’t say anything. She never did, not unless I asked her to. I wondered if she could tell how conflicted I was, how tangled up my thoughts had become. Probably not. Olivia wasn’t the type to pry, to ask questions she didn’t need answers to.

And maybe that was part of the reason why I couldn’t see her the same way I saw other girls. There was too much history between us, too much familiarity. I couldn’t pretend with her the way I could with other girls. I couldn’t put up the walls or play the games because Olivia knew me, or at least she knew the parts of me that most people didn’t. And that made it harder. That made it impossible to view her as just another conquest, another girl to distract me from the mess of my life.

So instead, I stayed silent, watching as she continued cooking, her movements calm and steady. I’d have to figure out some other way to clear my head. The party later tonight seemed like the best option—surrounded by girls, loud music, and enough drinks to numb whatever lingering thoughts I had about Brianna or Olivia or anything else. I needed the distraction. I needed to feel like myself again. Because right now, everything was starting to feel a little too real, and I wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.