My Best Friend's Hot Brother (18+)

Hoof It In The Complete Nude Back To The Car

Jackson

I roll my eyes and drag my hands down my face.

Can't I ever just relax? As a twenty-year-old guy, aren't I entitled to have some fun in my life?

"Jackson, did you hear me?" My mother appears in my bedroom doorway, pinning her long brunette hair back into a sleek ponytail. "I said, don't forget to pack your violin."

My gaze flits over to the instrument that I have stuffed beneath my bed and all hopes of having a care-free summer dissipate in a cloud of smoke and musical notes that I am certain will follow me into my dreams.

"Jackson Giovanni Moretti!" She gasps, following my sights and spying the case stashed amongst empty bottles of energy drinks and dirty laundry. "Your father and I spent gobs of money on that violin and will not tolerate you treating your possessions so carelessly!"

It aggravates me that my parents place this much pressure upon me to challenge my musical abilities to the fullest, but given Gabby's situation, I believe it's only due to their fears of me wasting my potential.

But still, it's not as though I will suddenly forget everything I have ever learned if I give it a break for a week.

However, there is no use arguing with my mother. She wins every time. With a grunt, I lug out the case from beneath the bed and toss it onto the mattress. 

I guess I can kiss any chance of pleasure for this summer goodbye.

I want to assume my mother will eventually cut me some slack, allowing me to revel in a moment of quality family time, but I am certain she won't. There is no slowing down once one has been labeled as a musical prodigy.

There's only hard work and harder work. No exceptions.

The world doesn't stop turning just because one's whole life is being flipped on its axis. So, I must forge ahead, knowing full well that being the best is not what truly matters to me right now.

With a nod of satisfaction, my mother turns to leave, and I am left alone with my thoughts. It's a scary place to be. I am eager to escape the information that haunts me ever since that day when I learned in the sterile confines of a brick building that the lives of my family had just collapsed, and nothing would ever again be the same.

Grabbing my duffel bag, I wander down to the driveway where Gabby is straining to lift her suitcase into the van.

"Gabs!" I exclaim, rushing over to aid her. "Be careful. Let me do that." I take the handle from her grip and toss the luggage into the vehicle with ease.

She gives me a weak but grateful smile. "I'm fine, Jackson. You need to stop doting on me."

I open my mouth to respond, to assure her that as her older brother, it is my duty to protect her, but my words are cut short by a shiny red Hyundai pulling up to the curb. It is a familiar car.

I have memorized the chip of paint on the driver's side where the door slammed into a gas station pole on a blustery day. I know that the interior has a fragrance of vanilla and I know that in about five seconds, Sterling will emerge from the passenger seat, her long blonde hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and the silver of her jewelry glinting in the afternoon sun.

I clench my teeth.

"Gabby!" She shrieks ear-piercingly, flying into my sister's arms and nearly barreling her over.

I have to bite my tongue to keep from scolding her not to be so rough. Instead, I settle on an icy glare.

Message received; I think as she makes eye contact with me.