Too Sweet (Hayes Brothers #3)(33)

I shake their hands, accepting a drink from Aisha, then scan the room more, taking in the immaculate mid-century modern interior, rows of books on floating shelves, and huge pictures of both Harlow girls dotting the southern wall.

In one of them, Mia plays the piano in a white, flowy dress, her blonde locks cascading down her back, fingers on the keys. The other picture is a portrait. She gazes into the camera, resting her arm on an electric keyboard propped against the wall. Her hair is curly, her lips parted, eyes bright.

“You see something you like?” Toby pats my back, walking past to help Aisha. “She’s not here.”

Aisha zeroes in on me, cocking one eyebrow. “She’s out. She’s got a hot date.”

A surge of possessiveness spills under my skin like a contusion, and this time, I swear, it’s not just for me but Cody, too. I’d much rather see Mia with my brother than some random guy. At least that way, I could keep an eye on her; make sure Cody behaves himself.

“A date?” I grind out. “Who with?”

“Some guy from college.”

I pull out my phone and text Cody.

Me: You know your girl’s on a date right now?

“About time she gets herself out there instead of sitting at the piano all day,” Aisha muses. “Maybe once she finds a guy she likes, she’ll stop being so odd.”

My phone vibrates in my hand.

Cody: Fuck. Who with?

Me: Some guy from college.

“Isn’t date just a euphemism for sex?” Adrian asks, scratching his beard. “Girls can have fun too. She’s a teen. It’s what they do, isn’t it?”

Aisha bursts out laughing. “Way to put everyone in the same bag, asshat. Sure, some teenagers sleep around, but others don’t. Mia’s in the latter group. She almost burst into flames when she saw Toby in his boxers. Just because we’re sisters doesn’t mean we’re alike. Far from it, actually. I had my cherry popped at homecoming my sophomore year of high school, and Mia’s still a virgin at nineteen, so no, she’s not hooking up with guys she eats dinner with.”

I can’t say I’m surprised Mia’s not had sex yet, but the confirmation still almost knocks me off my damn feet.

It’s a good thing I’m sitting.

My head fills with images of her on my bed, hair sprawled across the pillow, lips parted as I push into her in an unrushed rhythm.

Mia on all fours, boobs crushed against the sheets, fingers digging into the side of the bed while I plunge as deep as I can get to make her tremble.

Mia on her back, my face buried between her legs...

Sex is physical. It’s primal. It’s natural. While men are more or less born understanding this, women learn in the process.

The first time is important not because it’s a magical threshold but because it starts a lifetime of pleasure. The more comfortable the girl feels, the higher the chance she’ll demand what she wants and take what she needs later.

Men experience sex differently. A shitty first time probably won’t ruin it for a guy for years to come, but it might for a woman. Girls need to feel safe and comfortable in their skin. If the guy is an egotistical asshole, it might take a long time before she learns to enjoy sex instead of overthinking how she looks or sounds.

People don’t talk about sex enough. It’s still a hush-hush topic in many families, and that shielding hides it away on a taboo pedestal where it doesn’t belong. Sex is one of the most basic human needs.

We breathe, eat, sleep, and fuck.

“Hello!” is yelled from the hallway.

Alex, one of Adrian’s soccer buddies, walks in with a blonde teen on his arm and another right behind. One glance at the unnatural movement of his eyebrows proves he brought her for me. He still didn’t get the memo: I don’t touch teens.

But I’d touch Mia.

God, I’d touch her everywhere.

Alex wraps his arms around Aisha, kisses her cheek, and hands over a bottle of tequila.

“Shots?” she asks, eyeing the girls. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

It takes two hours of playing Hot Seat before Mia comes back. The quiet click of the front door has my head turning in the direction of the hallway, but instead of joining us, her soft footsteps retreat, and another door closes behind her.

“She won’t even say hey?” Adrian asks, his eyebrows pulled together. “That’s rude.”

“She’s doing what she’s told,” Toby clarifies with a scowl. “Aisha doesn’t want her here.”

“Because she’s such a buzzkill!”

She’s been riling me up for months but never this fast. “She’s your sister.”

“Doesn’t change facts, does it? I invited her to spend time with my friends once, and Mia got so uncomfortable with jokes she puked her guts out.”

“Nico’s right. She’s your sister, babe,” Toby drawls, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Ask her to come out here. She doesn’t have to play. She can just have a drink.”

With a huff and an eyeroll, Aisha stumbles down the hallway. We hear the knock but not their conversation, and a moment later, she’s back alone. “She’s busy.”

“Which door?” I ask, not buying that.

“Second on the right.”