Under My Skin Pt. 02

As much as I loved concerts, I was more than ready for this one to be over. We had been standing for hours on end in the heat and it was draining. That wasn't even taking into account my twisted behavior, which made me want to hide somewhere that I'd never have to face her.

It was long after dark when the last band left the stage and we began the slow march back toward the car. As we finally moved away from the stage and the music blasting through the speakers began to fade, I became aware that my ears were ringing. No surprise there.

I noticed that Skye was limping a bit and asked if she was okay.

"My knee hurts like hell. I think I pushed it a bit with standing for so long today."

"Oh shit. I never even thought of that," I replied, feeling stupid for not having remembered.

"It's fine," she replied. "Just sore and tightening up. It'll be okay in a day or two."

I asked a few more questions about it, trying to make sure she wasn't hurting worse than she was letting on. She acted dismissive of the whole thing and limped to the car without further complaint.

On the drive home, I kept waiting for Skye to bring up what happened. I watched her from the corner of my eye for a good portion of the trip but she looked perfectly normal. She kept looking out the window as I drove with a small, contented smile on her face. We didn't talk much. Our ears were ringing and we were exhausted. She fell asleep after the first hour or so of the drive. I spent the rest of the trip angry with myself for how I felt about her and what I had allowed to happen.

When we arrived back home, I woke her up as gently as I could and we went inside. Mom was still on night shifts at the hospital and wasn't home. We both trudged up the stairs toward our respective bedrooms. I could barely keep my eyes open. As I passed by her room, she hooked my arm and pulled me to her.

"Thank you so much for bringing me. I had the best time with you today." She wrapped me up in as big a hug as she could. It was probably just exhaustion, but there was no doubt that the hug lingered.

"Me too," I replied when she released me.

"Night," she called as I entered my bedroom at the end of the hall.

* * * * *

When I woke up, it was almost eleven. Groggy and stiff from the long drive, I half staggered down the hallway to the shower. My feet were sore from standing for so many hours the previous day. It wasn't until I was rinsing shampoo through my hair that I recalled the events at the show. A fresh wave of guilt slammed me in the gut.

I stepped out of the shower and dried myself off, trying to make sense of things. I felt like shit for taking advantage of her like that. I didn't know what to do with the feelings I had for her, either. I cleared the condensation from the mirror with my towel and stared at my reflection for a moment.

"Asshole," I mumbled as I got dressed.

I was heading back to my bedroom when she called me.

"Hey, Ryan?"

"Yeah?" Please don't bring it up, I thought. Please don't.

"Can you give me a hand for a second?" She called, still from her room.

Pausing at her closed door, I knocked, feeling kind of foolish, since she had called for me, but the thought of just walking in felt even more awkward. Now I was overthinking things and making it worse. Goddamn it.

"It's open."

I opened the door and stepped in to see her sitting on the edge of her unmade bed. Skye was wearing a pale yellow shirt with a gray skirt and had already done her hair and makeup. She was leaning back on the bed a little, propped up on her arms and gave me an annoyed glare. Oh shit, I thought.

"My knee's really giving me hell this morning. Can you help me put the stupid brace on?" She sighed, her expression shifting from annoyed to looking a bit defeated.

"That sucks," I replied, feeling my chest relax a little and let some air in. This wasn't about me. Still, she hadn't worn her brace in a year or so. Her knee must hurt like hell.

I couldn't help glancing down at the surgery scars on her knee that she was always so self-conscious about. They weren't very noticeable but bothered her immensely. She had a black and gray banded thigh sock on the other leg, while this one remained bare.

"Thanks. It's a bitch to bend right now." She held the other sock out to me.

"No problem." I took the sock and knelt down in front of her. "I thought these days were behind us."

"So did I." She replied, tucking her hair behind one ear and staring down at her knee.

I gathered the sock up in my hands and slid her foot into it. I slid it onto her outstretched foot and pulled it up the length of her leg, watching her skin disappear behind it and trying to touch her as little as possible. Which was in direct opposition of what my hands wanted to be doing, of course. When I had the sock pulled high enough that she could reach it without having to bend her knee, I hesitated. I expected her to grab the sock and continue pulling it on as she had done when she was younger. I glanced up at her and she was smiling prettily at me, remaining leaned back on her elbows. It wasn't possible to put her knee brace in place without putting the sock on, so I took that as an excuse and pulled her sock into place.

Her legs parted a little further allowing me access as I slid the fabric up her smooth creamy thigh, my hand only a few short inches from her lacy underwear. Her eyes were closed when I glanced up at her again and I was unable to resist stealing a glimpse of her panties. The purple fabric was sheer and lacy, allowing me to almost make out the details of her sex underneath. Holy shit, my mind screamed, as I forced myself to look away, the image burned into the back of my retinas. My chest felt constricted again, along with my pants. I withdrew my hands quickly before temptation got the better of me.

Picking up the brace from the bed beside her, I gingerly wrapped it around her knee. As I made sure I positioned it properly and fastened down the straps, I allowed my fingers to slid across her skin just above the brace one last time. The feeling of her skin lingered on my fingertips as I leaned back from her.

"How's that feel?" I glanced up at her and her brown eyes locked on mine for a moment.

She leaned forward and felt the top and sides of the brace for a moment.

"It's good," Skye smiled at me.

I climbed to my feet in what I hoped was a casual manner, feeling like my heart was hammering hard enough to be visible through my shirt. I needed to get out of here before she noticed my boner.

"Thanks, again. Sorry, I'm being a pain in the ass."

"No problem," I replied, making a show of dusting off my pants in hopes of distracting from the tent in front of them. "I should have thought about how long we'd be standing with your knee yesterday."

"It was worth it." She stood and straightened the top of the sock before taking a few steps. "That feels much better."

"Cool, I gotta get to work," I lied, using the first excuse that came to mind to get out of the room.

* * * * *

I pulled into work more than two hours before my shift. It was stupid to leave the house so early, I knew, but I just needed some time to think. I sat in the parking lot staring at the steering wheel for a while without really seeing it. I felt lost. What does someone do when he has fallen in love with his own sister, I wondered. Besides go to work way too early because you are afraid she'll see the look in your eyes and figure out that you're a perverted freak, that is.

The workday was pretty much spent on autopilot. I didn't remember anything about it except that I thought about Skye the entire time. How long could I keep my feelings hidden from her? Could I keep it together long enough to transfer to Austin? For a brief moment, I considered whether or not I could just tell her how I felt. I chuckled bitterly at myself for even letting that creep into my mind. She would surely freak out, yell at me for the pervert that I was for even thinking of my sister that way and tell mom to kick me out. Okay, maybe she wouldn't tell mom. She loved me enough as her brother to probably spare me that. But I was positive it would do irreparable harm to our relationship.

Part of me wanted to drive straight back home after work and see if she was there. A dumb fantasy passed through my mind of busting into her bedroom where she lay reading a book, scooping her in my arms, staring directly into her warm brown eyes a moment before locking our lips together in a kiss that would change everything for us. The other part wanted to go to my favorite bar and drink myself stupid. Neither of these ideas seemed like a smart move the longer I thought about them.

I ended up at a coffee shop a few blocks from work, staring at a mostly untouched cup of coffee for a couple of hours. It was well after midnight before I finally went home. Thankfully, my sister was asleep by then.

Sleep didn't come easy at all. I spent most of the night laying in bed with her Instagram pulled up on my phone staring at pictures of her. There weren't any photos of her trying to look sexy and seductive and I wasn't surprised. That just wasn't who Skye was. There were photos of her hanging out with Heather and Vicky, some modest selfies, and the obligatory photos of food. She had posted a series of photos from the concert that were pretty great, considering how close we were to the stage. The further back I scrolled through the images, I found a few photos she had posted of her gymnastics competition days. The determination in her face in those images made her look older than she was at the time. I remembered how much I had admired her.

I found I kept going back to look at one selfie in particular. She was sitting on a recliner in the living room with a tired smile on her face. Her hair was slightly disheveled and falling across half of her face in what was clearly not as random a fashion as she would like you to think. She had leaned forward resting her chin on her hand and the sleeve of her shirt was so long that it covered half of her palm. Her smile in that photo was particularly beautiful. I traced the outline of her face with a fingertip and felt like I had butterflies in my stomach as I looked at her.

She's your sister, you stupid son of a bitch, I told myself. I closed the app and plugged my phone into the charger. Acting like a love-struck teenager was not going to fix anything. I needed to do something, anything, to get my shit together. I rolled over and punched the pillow in frustration. This had to stop.

* * * * *

By morning, I had resolved to try to minimize contact with her as much as I could. Even thinking about avoiding her made my stomach knot up, but I knew it was the right thing to do. I couldn't risk ruining our relationship. I needed to stay away until I shook the romantic feelings I had for her. It was the only idea I could come up with. I had even gone so far as to research the topic online, making goddamned sure I cleared my browser history when I was done. The last thing I wanted was for that to pop up if someone used my laptop to check their email or some shit.

Skye had long been in the habit of putting a copy of her work schedule on the fridge so she could easily keep track of her shifts at the pharmacy. That made it convenient for me to know when she was least likely to be home. I picked up all the extra shifts I could get at work on her days off and spent a lot of time at the gym or hitting the bar with Kevin or one of the other guys from work. I even crashed on the couch at Kevin's apartment a time or two after we'd been out drinking far too late. But I can't say I really enjoyed myself. I thought about her all the time. I missed her.

It wasn't like I could avoid seeing her completely, of course. Every time I did see her, my heart ached to linger and talk to her. She always lit up when she saw that I was home and tried to visit with me as much as possible. She would text me occasionally to touch base and ask when I'd be home. I could tell that she missed hanging out with me. That only made it harder to keep the distance I was trying to place between us. It was for her own good, I kept telling myself. But it fucking sucked.

* * * * *

On Thursday night, I got home from a closing shift at work to discover my sister curled up in one of the big recliners in the living room reading a book. She was dressed in a pair of light blue pajama shorts with a matching long sleeve blue top. My breath caught in my throat a little, at the sight of her. The way she was folded up into the chair had caused her pajama shorts to ride up and the sexy curve of an ass cheek was partially visible. Her hair was tucked behind her ear and she absentmindedly chewed on a thumbnail as she was reading.

I sighed inwardly, realizing I hadn't made much headway on breaking myself of my feelings for her and went upstairs. As a brother, I was failing miserably. After a quick shower, I dressed in sleep pants and an old t-shirt. I had just started streaming a Jesu album and was attempting to read an article about invasive salvinia plants on my laptop when there was a knock on the door.

"Hey," Skye leaned on the door frame, her arms wrapped around herself, making her seem even smaller than usual. Her top hung down to mid-thigh, longer than her very short pajama shorts, giving off the illusion that there may be nothing beneath her shirt. I felt a knot building inside and tried not to focus on how attractive she looked.

"What's up?" I asked, turning the volume down on my laptop.

She took a couple of tentative steps into the room, dropping her hands to lightly wring them together in front of her.

"Are you mad at me?" She asked quietly.

"What for?" I replied, not knowing what else I could really say.

"I dunno, we were getting along so well and now you're avoiding me. I just want to know why." Her lower lip quivered as she spoke and her eyes started shimmering as if she were about to cry. It clawed at my guts to realize that I'd hurt her feelings by trying to distance myself from my desires. I was trying to do what was right but I just couldn't win.

"I'm not avoiding you. Work's just been busy lately." It was a weak excuse. I think we both knew it.

"I'm not stupid, Ryan. It's more than work. What's going on?" She took a few more steps into the room. The pleading look in her eyes told me that she wasn't going to let this go.

I stared at the carpet trying to figure out what I could possibly say that wouldn't ruin our relationship forever.

"See? You won't even look at me," she choked as she dropped to her knees near my chair. "What did I do? Please talk to me."

"It's not you, okay? I promise. I'm just dealing with some shit," I tried to reassure her, allowing myself to look at her.

"What is it, then? Tell me."

Her long eyelashes were clinging to each other as tears leaked from her beautiful brown eyes. I'd seen my sister upset plenty of times before, but this was the first time I had seen her this upset over something that was my fault. I felt horrible.

"I.. I just. Fuck," I stammered, reaching out to cup her warm cheek in my hand. "Please don't cry."

She nuzzled her face against my palm like a cat for a half second with her eyes closed before rapidly pulling herself up the length of my arm to bury her face in my chest. I held her close to me and resigned myself to the reality that I was not going to get out of this conversation without coming clean. A tear of my own leaked down my face as I hugged her.

"I'm ashamed," I nearly whispered, "Ashamed, embarrassed and scared... and fucked up."

"Why?" The mumbled reply came from the face buried in my chest.

"I took advantage of you at the concert. After warning you about the stuff scumbags do to girls... I'm no better. Then I was so ashamed that I didn't have the nerve to apologize. I'm really sorry."

"Oh god, no."

She tensed up in my arms and scooted away from me.

"Please let me finish. Don't go, yet." Scared she was going to run before I finished, I moved between her and the doorway, holding my hands out disarmingly. I felt panicked, desperate to keep her there so we could talk. This is it, asshole. You earned this, I thought. You're going to lose everything. How the fuck did it come to this?

Skye made no move to get up from the floor, instead, she stared silently at the far wall. She was crying softly, almost shaking and looked pale. God damn, it killed me to see her crying. It was the best I could hope for, I supposed. I swallowed hard, trying to force the lump in my throat down enough to let me get through this.

"I can't stop thinking about you," I continued. "Even before the show, I thought about you all the time. I'm fucked up, okay? I'm in love with you. I know it's wrong. Please don't hate me. I'm an asshole."

I slumped against the door frame and sank to the floor. It was all out there now. No taking it back. I wished I could run or something. I wanted to disappear. She should be angry with me. Or disgusted. Both. I wanted to take her in my arms and comfort her but I was afraid. Would she ever want me to touch her again after finding out how fucked up I was? Her own goddamned brother just told her he was in love with her. I felt like the world was caving in around me.

"Look, I know I'm fucked up but I'll fix this, I swear. I'll move out and get my shit together. I'm gonna see a shrink or something. Get myself sorted out."

"No!" She nearly screamed it at me this time, with such alarm in her voice that I jumped reflexively.

"You aren't listening. I'm in love with you and I... I can't be."

"I am listening. But you're wrong."

"What do you mean?" I stared at her, puzzled by her reply.

"The concert was my fault, not yours. We were standing so close at the show that I felt you behind me. I saw the height of the rail and realized if I stood on the bottom rung, it would be just about right for my butt to be even with your... to feel you against me."

She drew her knees up and folded her arms, burying her face in the crook of her arms.

"I don't understand."

"I had to get your attention. You keep talking about leaving. We'll never be the same. Never see each other. Not like we do now. I couldn't let you go without you knowing how I feel about you," She paused to look up at me, her eyes shimmering in the dimly lit room. "How much you mean to me."

My mind was going a thousand miles an hour, trying to make sense of what she was saying. For some reason, my eyes focused on an old stain on the carpet where she had spilled a fruit drink years before.

"Pretty stupid, right?" She asked with a mocking tone of voice. "It sounds so dumb now. At the time it made sense to me. Grind on your brother at a concert. Go for it. That's the best way to finally tell him you love him, right? And everyone says I'm so smart."

Skye scooted across the floor to me and reached her hand up to softly stroke along my jaw guiding my gaze over to meet hers.

"I love you, Ryan."

The words thundered in my ears, though she had barely whispered them. This is a bad idea, I told myself. You could ruin her life. She's just confused. That's all. But the look in her eyes as she stared into mine told a different story. I could see the adoration in them as she leaned in closer.

I tilted my head toward her voice and felt the tip of my nose brush lightly across her cheek. She smelled amazing. We were so close to each other. My breath caught in my throat. I'm really about to kiss her, I thought to myself. My heart was hammering hard enough to feel like it could burst out of my chest at any moment.

Suddenly our lips touched. It was soft at first, our lips barely brushing against each other, but one of my hands came up to cradle the back of her head and we began to kiss in ways that siblings shouldn't. I could taste a hint of her berry flavored lip gloss that triggered a long forgotten memory of her getting it for Christmas years before and pestering me into trying it on. My lips parted and I ran my tongue lightly across her lower lip. Her own lips parted a moment later and I felt her small tongue collide with my own. A soft moan escaped her, a sexy sound that I'd never heard my little sister make before.