My Boyfriends Brother

4

With the third sip of the deep-hued liquor, a comforting warmth spreads through my body, signaling the onset of intoxication. It's been too long since I allowed myself this escape, though the specifics elude my memory.

Jay reclines on the stairs, engrossed in his phone, as I awkwardly navigate the effects of the potent drink.

"I have to go," he declares, tucking his phone away.

"Go?" I offer him his flask, but he declines, stating, "Yeah, I have to do something. If my parents ask, just tell them I went home." As he walks away, the sense of isolation intensifies.

Should I endure the monotony of this party, drowning in thoughts of whether Daniel is once again betraying me?

"Jay, wait!" I stand up, steadying myself against the premature impact of alcohol.

He turns, an irritated expression on his face, but I persist. "Can I come?" I implore, my eyes scanning the scene around us.

"Lex, no," he sighs, dropping his hands from his hair.

"Why? Jay, please. I'm having a bad night and just want to have fun!" Uncharacteristically honest, I can't recall the last time I truly enjoyed a night of teenage revelry.

"What about Daniel? You're just going to leave him here?" Accusation taints his words.

"What does it matter?" I retort, arms crossed.

"I don't know, Lex. Leaving with his older brother doesn't look good." It's a feeble attempt to dissuade me, but I remain resolute.

"Come on, Jay, please." He shakes his head, his determination clear.

But I'm accustomed to getting what I want.

"Well, I guess your parents will love to hear about how I walked into their kitchen and had to aid you back to life." My words sting, fueled by the alcohol-induced desire to escape.

"Alex, shut up," he retorts, heading away. "Come on, damn." I smile triumphantly, following him with careful steps in my towering heels.

Seated comfortably in the car, I buckle up and realize the gravity of leaving the party with my boyfriend's brother.

Glancing at Jay driving, I find it hard to swallow. Chewing gum, his prominent jawline, pushed-back hair, and a hand on the wheel—a sudden thought surfaces: What if his hand were on my thigh?

Goosebumps emerge, and I dismiss these intoxicated musings. He's Daniel's brother, soon to be my brother, assuming Daniel and I endure.

"Where are we going?" I instinctively lean my seat back, placing my legs on the dashboard.

Jay steals glances, scanning my legs before returning attention to the road. "A bar," he exhales.

"Jay, I'm seventeen."

"It's fine." We arrive at a lowkey place, far from my usual haunts.

Exiting the car, Jay pulls me close, whispering, "Stay close, okay?" I nod, fully feeling the alcohol's effects but still desiring more.

"Jacob Woods?" An impeccably dressed man checks Jay's ID, unlocking the door with a nod.

The unfamiliar scene unfolds—exotic dancers, poker players, cigar smokers. "Come on," Jay leads me, his grip firm.

"Do you want water?" he asks, bravely I request two shots of tequila from the bartender.

"Lex," Jay chides quietly.

"Coming up."

Downing the shots, I shudder at the taste. "Are you okay?" Jay asks.

"Yeah, it's just, tequila is nasty." I giggle involuntarily.

"Come on," he insists, leading me to a back room. I stumble, but the effect is negligible.

In this room, a Middle Eastern man addresses Jay. Business seems to transpire, concluded with a check handed over.

"Respect, Reid," Jay acknowledges, receiving the check. "Enjoy your time!" Reid bids farewell.

"Let's go," Jay takes my hand, guiding me out. "Jay," I attempt conversation.

Ignoring me, I try again. "Jayyyy."

"What, Alex?" Irritation colors his tone.

"Are you in a gang?" I blurt out, abandoning my usual restraint in this drunken revelry.

"No, Alex," he dismisses, rolling his eyes.

"But—"

"Listen." Jay points, "you asked to come along; you have no right to question me."

"Are all Woods men such assholes!" I melodramatically declare.

"What do you mean?" Jay probes.

"Nothing, I need another drink."

"I think you've had enough." Jay's laughter sounds genuine.

"I want to dance." I gaze at the dancers, impulsively hopping on the table with them, embracing the liberated moment.

Lifted by a strong arm, panic fades when I realize its Jay.

"You're still underage, Alex. You can't dance around a bunch of men like that," Jay scolds, his concern evident.

I pull out my phone, revealing missed calls from parents but none from Daniel.

"Jay, my parents are calling me a lot." I laugh.

"Fuck, what will they say if they see you're drunk?" He takes charge, leading me through the crowd.

Worry creeps in, but my intoxicated self deludes it. 

Outside, Jay takes my phone, reading the text. "I can't go home," I mumble.

"I'm telling them you're staying with Megan."

"But Megan's out of town this weekend," I murmur. "Where will I stay?"

"You can stay at the house." Jay, now assisting with my shoes, attempts to reassure me.

"I can't."

"You stayed before?"

"You don't understand, Daniel would be so mad if he sees me this drunk." As I fumble with my other shoe, Jay eyes me quizzically.

"Come on," he urges, helping me into the car. He buckles my seatbelt, and our eyes meet, an unspoken tension lingering.

He closes my door, settling into the driver's seat. My mind swirls with the realization that, despite the minimal interaction, tonight has been the most enjoyable in a long while.

"Okay, you can stay with me." Jay's decision breaks the silence, and as he starts the car, my thoughts wander to the potential held in the uncharted territories of this unexpected night.