Layers of His Mask [18+] (Completed)

4. Why You Should Never Let Your Brother Pick a Restaurant...Ever

"So, what have you been up to lately?" I ask, fumbling around in the linen closet for some sheets and a few blankets.

My brother sits on the couch drinking a beer as I look around for bedding for him. I don't have an extra bed for him to sleep in, so he gets the luxury of sleeping on my couch - which unfortunately for him has seen better days.

"Just the usual," He says, taking another sip of his beer.

He's been like this ever since I picked him up from the airport. Dodging my questions and shrugging noncommittally. I can't get anything out of him.

"How is the job going?" My hands finally find an old woolen blanket and I walk back to the living room triumphantly. "You still working at McNair's?" McNair's is one of the most reputable law firms in South Carolina, or so I've been told by Timothy.

"It's fine. I'm fine. Everything is fine, Rebecca," he admits, a distinct edge rising in his voice.

I've said something to make him angry. Great, we've hardly been in the same room for two hours and I'm already ruining things.

My face falls and even though I try to cover it up quickly with a smile, I can tell he notices because he says, "Look, it was a long flight. I'm just feeling a little jet-lagged, I guess. Sorry that I'm being so cranky. How about I take a nap and then after I wake up we go out to dinner or something?" South Carolina is only four hours away by car...

"Okay," I say, handing the blankets over to him and getting off the couch. "But if you ever want to - " I have shifted back into protective sister mode.

"I know, I know. I can talk to you." He smiles so that I know he's joking and he grabs a pillow from the other side and places it behind his head. "Thanks for letting me crash here."

"Oh shut up," I say, ruffling up his hair like I always used to do when we were kids. "You know you're always welcome here."

I walk back to my room and put in a movie. Thirty minutes into You've Got Mail and I'm already fast asleep. When Timothy comes in and wakes me three hours later, it's almost six o'clock. "Oh crap, I didn't realize I slept that long," I croak, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"Sorry, I just woke up myself. If you don't wanna go out that's fine, we can just order in."

"No, I wanna go out, I've been practically stuck in this house all week."

"No one told you to waste your life away in here," he teases, leaning against the white wooden frame of my doorway.

"It's not like I had a choice," I mumble.

"Really? I don't see anyone besides you here who can potentially deprive you of your 'choices'," he says mockingly, looking around.

I scowl at him, "Do you really want to waste time arguing here and miss going out for dinner?"

He just grins as he says, "Well, the only difference would be my wallet would still be heavy if you're making us dinner."

"You wish, it'll be less than that amount if you make me cook. Your choice."

He throws his hands up in mock surrender and exits the room, leaving me with a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat to shame. Hey, could blame me?

I am happy my brother is back to how he usually is instead of the grumpy one he was a few hours ago. I really did miss my brother and it felt really nice to have him and our bickering back.

With a grin still plastered on my face, I make my way to get dressed a little more decently - rather, more suited to a place fancier than my bedroom.