I speed through the winding neighborhood roads, going a bit too fast I'll admit. I can't help it, my blood is racing faster than my car can take me. I don't understand, I can't understand, why out of all the girls I've toyed and teased effortlessly, without emotion, is she so damn different. It's always been my own little game of control, but she's somehow withheld from it for so long, always standing her ground. It's infuriating to be honest, so why do I find it so enticing? Is it the idea of a challenge; or simply aggravation that she's beating me at my own game? I feel my lips twitch up when I think back to a few minutes ago; she let her guard down tonight, I think. Then, the annoying part of my mind reminds me, yeah, but you let down yours first. I scowl and press my foot down on the gas pedal.

I reach my house and notice an extra car that shouldn't be there. Along with my parents' vehicles, there's a perfectly waxed white Mercedes shinning against the moonlight. "Fuck me," I mutter to myself before going inside.

Opening the door, I try to creep inside as silently as I can. I'm almost at the stairs when I hear my father's booming voice resonate through the hall.

"Damon! There's my boy, where you been?"

I groan as I turn and walk towards him, knowing that I can't escape his nightly check up and hug.

"Just out getting some gas before school tomorr—oomf," I'm lifted off the ground as he wraps his large arms around me.

"Have you lost weight? You feel lighter," he asks with his loud voice directly in my ear.

I cringe away from the ear-bursting sound, "No, you've just gotten bigger."

He laughs loudly and flexes one of his arms, "That I have!"

My whole family is very much into fitness.

My mom walks into the hallway, drying her hands against a rag, "Hey sweetie, there's still some chicken and veggies left over if you want them."

"That's alright, I'm not that hungry. So...where is he?"

My parents tense, they know my relationship with my brother is not pleasant. My mom tucks a few dark strands behind her ear, while my dad runs his hand through his short sandy blonde hair. Dad is the first to break the awkward silence.

"Why he's in the living room! Come and see; he's missed you! It's been five months since you guys last saw each other."

My parents both stride into the next room while I trail behind and mutter, "Not long enough," to myself. I enter the living room and sure enough, there he is, perched cross legged on the couch and smiling to himself as he spins a splash of red wine around in a glass.

"Carter," I greet coolly.

He raises his head, the same dark hair as mine not moving an inch in its groomed back state. We look very similar, there's only one difference: his eyes are as dark as a vacant cave, a brown so deep it's almost black. He stands and straightens his ironed suit.

"Damon, it's been awhile. How have you been faring?"

"Quite well actually."

"Good, good."

"So, why the unexpected visit?" I ask.

"Can't a man drop by to visit his family?" he retorts sarcastically.

When I don't respond, he smirks and continues, "If you must know, I have a case I'm working on that I need mother's help with."

"Really? What's it about?"

"Well, I can't go into detail, but it involves domestic abuse and fraud. Apparently the guy's been busted for it before."

"Sounds splendid."

"Indeed."

Static flows through the room, bouncing off each of our words. Our parents sit stiffly on the couch, listening and pretending they can't taste the tension tangible in the air. Carter and I stare blankly at each other, until mom finally pipes up.

"I almost forgot! I bought an ice cream cake since Carter was coming home, lets all go enjoy it!" she says cheerily.

Carter follows her into the kitchen while I stand still, glued to my spot.

"You know, seeing he and you together remind me of your earlier days. You two were inseparable."

"Well things change dad," I spit sharply, cutting him off.

"Such harsh words, I'm wounded," he jokes while grabbing his chest.

I scoff and fall back into the plush chair, trying to hide the smile wanting to emerge.

He smiles, eyes twinkling, "Listen, I know you two have had your differences over the past few years, but your brother has matured a lot and is trying hard to right his wrongs. Give him a chance."

"I can't just snap my fingers and instantly forgive him for everything he's done."

"I know, it'll take time, I'm just saying not to shut out the idea completely."

"Derrick, Damon! Get in here!" I hear mom call from the room over.

Dad cringes and I laugh, "We better get in there before she really gets us," he says while rising.

When we enter the room, there are already two plates set out for us with slices of Oreo ice cream cake melting slightly against the red surface. My dad picks up the small plate and tilts it around, watching the liquid roll across the base.

"Not my fault if your piece is melted," my mom says with a bounce in her tone, smirking up at my father from the table.

"Well then I guess it's not my fault if it happens to melt off of my plate and into your lap," he walks up to her and starts to tilt it over her head.

"Derrick don't you dare!" she screams while scooting her chair away from him.

Carter and I both start laughing, but once my eyes make contact with his I stop. He opens his mouth as if he's about to say something, but my mom chimes in before he gets the chance.

"By the way Damon, don't make plans for Thursday, that's the only day I have open for a family dinner."

"You literally could not have chosen a worse day mom," I grumble.

"Why, do you already have plans?" dad asks.

"Yes, and no, it's not a big deal."

My brother stares me down as a wide smirk crosses his face, "It's a girl, isn't it?"

"It's actually none of your concern," I shoot back.

"Ooh a girl! Invite her over then, I want to meet her!" my horribly noisy mother chimes in.

"As do I," Carter adds.

I glare at him. I can feel the scorn blazing in my eyes, burning into his. My fists involuntarily clench as I try hard not to knock that smug grin off his face.

"Hell no," I respond sharply, directing it at him.

"If you don't invite her over then I'm taking your keys away," my mom includes, nose in the air.

"I feel like that's extremely unreasonable!"

"I don't care."

My dad laughs as I turn and rest my head against the wall I'd been leaning on, "Fine, I'll ask her."

"Great!"

"Great," Carter mutters silently, watching me, as he places a piece of cake into his mouth, a trace of a smirk resting over his lips.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Why are you inviting me to dinner if you just want me to say no?" I ask, bewildered.

Damon had been acting weird all Wednesday, and now today he tells me to meet him after school because he needs to ask me something. I had been wondering all day what he was going to say, only to find out he's inviting me to something he doesn't want me to go to.

"Because my mom told me to invite you. We're having a family dinner since my brother's in town, and she threatened my car if I didn't ask you. See, so now I've invited you, but I want you to refuse."

"Why would I refuse? I want to meet your brother anyways!"

His eyes darken while his body goes rigid, "That's why I don't want you to come."

"Because I'll meet your family?" I ask, annoyed.

"Because you'll meet my brother." he responds curtly.

"I know you and your brother don't get along, but what's the big deal if I meet him?"

"You just...don't understand."

He looks away in frustration. I lift my hand and rest it against his cheek, bringing his gaze back on me.

"Then help me understand."

Damon parts his lips and mumbles something I can't make out.

"What?" I ask.

"Oh never mind, if you're coming just be there by six alright?" he says angrily before stalking off.

I huff and yell out, "Be in a better mood by six then!"

I drive home and start getting ready. I put on a simple black dress and gold sandals. Then I curl my hair but brush it out so that it falls in loose waves that brush against my face. I tuck the opposite side of the part behind my ear and put in oval teal earrings. After I finish my makeup, I head downstairs, grabbing my thick gold bracelet on the way. I kill some time watching Chopped, then head out to Damon's.

I swear, I will never stop being amazed seeing his house. I park by the curb and text Damon that I'm here. He comes out almost immediately and starts walking down the driveway, both hands tucked behind his back. He looks normal in his typical black jeans and white tee with the sleeves rolled near his shoulder, but different all the same. He looks, sophisticated, in his walk and stance. His hair is blown back which is new, his dark waves curl back away from his face while the rest of his hair still pushes forward. Refined messy is a good word for it.

"You look nice," I say.

"You're late."

"Thanks Scarlett, you look nice as well, how good it is to see you," I respond sarcastically.

"You were supposed to arrive by six."

"It's 6:04 Damon."

"Exactly, four minutes of needless pacing."

I roll my eyes and he scowls. I walk past him and towards the door.

"Loosen up, will you?"

When we reach the door, I wait for him to open it. After a few seconds, I realize the door isn't moving so I look over at Damon. He's standing still, opening and closing his right hand that's outstretched near the handle. I look up at his face and can read the worry written across it.

"Are you nervous?" I ask

He snaps out of his trance, "Of course not," he replies quickly.

Opening the door, I walk inside, invited in by the aroma of sauce and garlic bread. The whole house is warm from the food, and "Lucky" by Jason Mraz is playing softly in the other room.

"Is she here?" I hear a booming voice ask from another room.

Then I see a large man strolling towards us, smiling ear to ear. I'm about to say hello, but the next thing I know my feet are lifted off the ground in a hug.

"Dad, would you please put her down!" Damon says, disgusted and, more so, probably embarrassed.

The strong man before me laughs, an intoxicating laugh that makes you want to laugh along and just be happy. I smile, I already like this family.

"You need to loosen up, son!"

"That's what I just told him!" I pipe up.

Damon's father wraps his arm around my shoulder, "She's a keeper."

I laugh and he starts to lead me towards the kitchen. I look over my shoulder to see Damon leaning up against the wall, one hand spread across his face. I snicker and face front again.

"Come meet my wife, uhm, what's your name by the way?" He asks.

"Scarlett."

"Come meet my wife, Scarlett!"

Stirring a steaming pot is whom I presume to be Damon's mother. She turns around, a warm smile lain across her lips.

"Hello Scarlett, I'm Cassie, and that eccentric man there is my husband Derrick."

"Hi, to both of you."

We begin talking and enjoying ourselves. I immediately feel relaxed and comfortable around them. Damon soon enters the room and lazily leans against the fridge, listening to our conversation. After a little bit, Cassie mentions to Damon that he should show me a tour of the house, so we leave.

"I love your parents."

"They're embarrassing."

I chuckle as Damon leads me upstairs. He shows me a few bedrooms and bathrooms, one room completely devoted to gaming and I almost drool.

"Can we stay up here Tuesday?"

"You play?"

"Do I ever."

His eyes light up, "Well I hope you're prepared to lose, hopelessly."

"Yeah, you'll be saying that while you're sniffling in the corner after I demolish you."

He smiles, and I take the rare moment to seal it into my mind. Then, the smile changes. It's still the same smile, but dangerous now. I stiffen as he backs me up against the wall outside of the room. He places his hands on either side of my head and leans in. I feel the tip of his warm nose brush against my tucked hair, and his lips part against the top of my jaw.

"You know," he whispers, "I can think of a game we can play."

"Old maid?" I barely am able to get the joke out without my voice cracking.

He laughs deeply, sending shivers down my spine, "One of these days you're over, we'll play some strip billiards."

My breathe catches in my throat, "Is that so?"

Suddenly, a door down the hallway creaks open, and Damon swiftly pushes himself off me. I try to look cool and collected, but Damon remains stiff, starring in the direction of the noise. I look over and see a man walk out looking down at his phone. He's dressed in a dress shirt and slacks, dark hair gelled back. I rub my eyes because I think I'm looking at an older and slightly taller Damon. What reassures me that they're different is when he looks up and I see his dark eyes. They're so deep and still that I blink myself out of staring.

Damon wraps a protective arm around my waist and tugs me towards him. His brother smirks, the same smirk as Damon's; just, this man's smirk chills me instead of lighting me up like Damon. He strides toward us.

"Hello, I'm Damon's older brother, Carter."

I reach out to shake his outstretched hand, but instead he grasps my fingers and draws my hand up as he leans down and places a light kiss against it. Damon's grip on me tightens.

"If you're quite done yet, I think it's time for dinner," Damon says with a tight voice.

He rips me away from Carter and drags me down the stairs by my hand. I look over my shoulder to see Carter watching us, one hand holding onto the railing at the top of the floor. His lips turn in a slight smile, showing a sliver of white teeth. I turn back to Damon to find him practically steaming, eyes dancing widely. I try to keep up with his quick movements while I ponder what this night has in store for us.