Rachel Gibson - See Jane Score

“What are you wearing?”

“My BEBE shirt.”

“Your boobs are a lot bigger than they were last week. Are you wearing a padded bra?”

She folded her arms over her chest like he was a pervert. “It’s a water bra.”

“You can’t wear that outside the apartment.” He couldn’t let her outside with her breasts pushed up and out like that.

“I wore it to school all last week.”

Holy shit, he’d bet just about anything that the guys at her school had stared at her chest too. All week. While he’d been on the road. Christ, his life was a mess. A whole churning cauldron of crapola. “I bet the guys at your school had a real good time staring at your hooters. And you can bet they weren’t thinking very nice things about you.”

“Hooters,” she gasped. “That’s disgusting. You’re so mean to me. You always say mean things.”

Hooters wasn’t a bad word. Was it? “I’m telling you how guys think. If you show up in a big padded bra, with your breasts falling out, they’ll think you’re smutty.”

She looked at him as if he were a child molester instead of her brother who wanted to protect her from the little perverts at her school. “You’re sick.”

Sick ? “No, I’m not. I’m just trying to tell you the truth.”

“You’re not my mom or my dad. You can’t tell me what to do.”

“You’re right. I’m not Dad and I’m not your mother. I may not be the best brother either, but I am all you’ve got.”

Tears leaked from her eyes and messed up her makeover. “I hate you, Luc.”

“No, you don’t. You’re just throwing a fit because I won’t let you walk around in a padded bra.”

“I bet you like women who walk around in padded bras.”

Actually, he’d grown an affection for, and an obsession with, small breasts.

“You’re a hypocrite, Luc. I’ll bet your girlfriends wear padded bras.”

Out of all the women he’d known, the one woman who had fascinated him the most didn’t wear a bra. He wondered what that said about him. He tried not to care, but he did. His cauldron of crapola churned a bit more.

“Marie, you’re sixteen,” he reasoned. “You can’t walk around in a bra that turns boys on. You’ll have to wear something else. Maybe a bra that has locking hooks.” That last he’d thrown in to be funny. As always, she failed to share his humor. His sister burst into tears.

“I want to go to boarding school,” she wailed and ran to her bedroom.

Her mention of boarding school set him back on his heels. He hadn’t thought of boarding school for a while. If he sent her to boarding school, he wouldn’t have to worry about her wearing padded bras when he was out of town. His life would be simpler. But suddenly the thought of her going away held not the slightest appeal. She was a pain and moody, but she was his sister. He was getting used to having her around, and the thought of boarding school no longer seemed like any kind of solution.

He followed her to her room and leaned a shoulder into the doorframe. She lay on her bed staring up at the ceiling, her arms spread out like she was a martyr on the cross.

“Do you really want to go to boarding school?” he asked.

“I know you don’t want me here.”

“I’ve never said that.” They’d had this conversation before. “And it’s not true.”

“You want to get rid of me,” she sobbed. “So I’ll go away to school.”

He knew what she needed to hear and what he needed to say. For her as much as for him. He’d been indecisive long enough. “Too late.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You’re not going anywhere. You live here with me. If you don’t like it, that’s too damn bad.”

She looked over at him then. “Even if I want to go?”

“Yeah,” he said and was surprised at how much he meant it. “Even if you want to go, you’re stuck here. You’re my sister and I want you to live with me.” He shrugged. “You’re a pain in the keister, but I like having you around bugging me.”

She was quiet a minute, then whispered, “Okay. I’ll stay.”

“Okay, then.” He pushed away from the doorframe and moved into the living room. He looked out the tall windows toward the bay. His relationship with his sister wasn’t the best. Their living arrangement was less than ideal; he was gone almost as much as he was in town. But he wanted to know her before she left for college and grew into an adult.

Over the past sixteen years, he should have seen her more. He certainly could have. He had no excuses. No good ones, anyway. He’d been so wrapped up in his own life, he hadn’t thought about her all that much. And that made him ashamed for all the times he’d been in LA and had never made a real effort to see her. To know her. He’d always known that made him a selfish bastard. He just hadn’t ever really thought there was anything wrong with being selfish-until now.

He heard her soft footsteps and he turned around. With her cheeks still wet and mascara running down her face, she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest. “I like living here bugging you.”

“Good.” He hugged her. “I know I can never take the place of your mother or dad, but I’ll try to make you happy.”

“I was very happy today.”

“You still can’t wear that bra.”

She was quiet a moment, then gave a long-suffering sigh. “Fine.”

They looked out the windows together for a long time. She talked about her mother, and she told him the reason she kept the dried flowers on her dresser. He guessed he understood, although he did think it was creepy. She told him she’d talked about it with Jane too, and that Jane had told her she would put them away someday when she was ready.

Jane. What was he going to do about Jane? All he’d wanted was a peaceful life. That’s it, but he hadn’t had a peaceful moment since he’d met Jane. No, that wasn’t true. When she’d been with him for those few short weeks, his life had been better than he could ever remember. Being with her was like being home for the first time since he’d moved to Seattle. But that had been an illusion.

She said she loved him. He knew better than to believe it, but deep down in a place he couldn’t ignore, he wanted that lie to be true. He was a sucker and a chump. He would see her tomorrow night for the first time in a week, but he hoped that, like all pain, after the initial sting he’d become numb and wouldn’t feel it anymore.

That’s what he hoped, but that wasn’t what happened when she walked into the locker room the next night. Luc felt her presence even before he glanced up and saw her. The impact of seeing her slammed in his chest and left him winded. When she spoke, her voice poured through him, and against his iron will, he soaked her up like a dry sponge. He was in love with her. There was no denying it to himself any longer. He’d fallen in love with Jane, and he didn’t have a clue what to do about it. As he sat there with his feet jammed into his untied skates and the laces in his hands, he watched her walk toward him, and with each step his heart felt like it was pounding a hole in his chest.

Dressed in black, with her smooth white skin, she looked the same as always. Her dark hair curled about her face, and he forced himself to lace his skates, when what he really wanted to do was shake her, then hold her tight until he absorbed all of her.

The hardest thing Jane had ever done was walk across the locker room and face Luc. When she approached, he looked down at his laces. For several long seconds she watched him lace his skates, and when he wouldn’t look up at her, she spoke to the top of his head. “Big dumb dodo.” She balled her hands into fists to keep from reaching out and touching his hair. “I want you to know,” she said, “that I have no intention of writing anything about you ever again.”