I watched Syria leave the room dressed in nothing but an extremely large shirt that seemed to engulf her small body. When I had knocked on the door, I had expected her to answer with her long hair in pigtails and her usual cat eye glasses and dressed in her typical sweats and t-shirt. Not this time though. I didn't expect her to be dressed in nothing but a large t-shirt that barely fell to the middle of her thighs.
I had never really seen her dressed like that before. Sure throughout the years since I had known her, she had been scantily clad before, but I hardly gave notice because that wasn't really my style. I didn't like how women wore clothing items that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. So why was it that when she wore nothing but a shirt, I couldn't help but stare at her long sun kissed legs or the way her normally perfectly styled brunette hair was now disheveled like she had just woken up a few moments before I arrived?
I shook my head of any sorts of those thoughts and went back to unpacking. For as long as I could remember, Syria had always been by Ryan's side cheering him on and just listening to him when there were problems he couldn't, or didn't want to, share to his band mates. In a way, Syria being born had been his saving grace. He had been going through a kind of rough time when his dad remarried to Syria's mom and her mom did NOT like him. After the birth of her daughter though and seeing the way she attached to Ryan as she grew up made her mom, Julia, act a little softer towards Ryan. She idolized Ryan in every way. She wanted to be just like him and that made him feel like he was on cloud nine. He absolutely adored her and would constantly talk about her. And we got to experience firsthand just why he loved her so much because she was a pretty awesome chick. When we were feeling like our songs were going nowhere and would fall through, she would cheer us back up by doing something stupid.
No matter where we were or who was around, Syria would act like some ridiculous goofball. She didn't care what anyone thought because she wasn't worried about impressing anyone. It was her that kind of inspired me to do the same and not care about impressing anyone while I was on stage or anywhere else. Funny how almost our entire band at the time looked up to this girl that was around four years younger than us.
For so long I had only seen her as Ryan's kid sister because
I honestly never saw her as anything but. Seeing her clad only in a t-shirt with bed hair though? The fact that she had grown into this beautiful woman slapped me hard in the face along with a punch to the gut and a knee to the genitals. How had I not ever noticed how tall she had grown? Or the way her body had filled out and created curves in all the right places? How had I not seen those long legs that went on forever? I had missed out on so much and it was really coming back to bite me in the ass.
I sighed and finished putting away the last of my clothes in the dresser. A couple years back shortly before the band parted ways Ryan had admitted to me that Syria had always had a huge crush on me. That's when he had said he was glad I had never really noticed because it would have hurt her having the band split up if we had been dating. That with the band splitting it may have ultimately ruined the relationship between her and me if we'd been dating. Even though I hadn't believed him at first, after looking back through all the memories it had suddenly become very clear to me. I had never been the best person to tell when a girl was flirting with me and honestly interested or just being nice. Especially now that I had become famous it was even harder to tell than before.
I left the room and made my way towards the kitchen where I stopped dead in my tracks. Syria had obviously finished her shower and dressed because there she was in the kitchen making what appeared to be breakfast. I took in a deep breath of air and smelt bacon. As I stood there watching her making breakfast I contemplated over the thought of her liking me. Did she still like me? And if she did, was my being here tough on her since I had never paid her attention before? She was wearing black yoga pants and a gray racerback tank top with a mesh see through back.
I turned away before I lost myself watching the way her hips swayed to the music inside her head as she cooked breakfast. Or hell even ogling over the way those tight yoga pants fit every curve of her ass and toned legs. I now realized why I kept her as Ryan's kid sister with her hair up in pigtails in my mind. Because if I had seen her like this? God only knows what would have happened. We had nearly two days alone.
I feared what may happen in those two days.
"Brendon, breakfast is ready," I yelled out figuring he was still in his room unpacking.
"Alright," he answered almost right behind me. I jumped startled with a pan of hot bacon grease in my hand. The grease slung around in the pan and splashed on my arm burning my skin.
"Fuck!" I growled dropping the pan into the sink as quickly as I could.
"Syria! Are you alright?" Brendon questioned with worry. He grabbed my arm and raked his gaze over it. Small welts were already beginning to form on my skin from the burn.
He took my arm and stuck it under the faucet and began running cool water over the burn. I felt immediate relief, but there was still a slight sting underneath the feeling of cool water. I bit my lip and held back the tears of pain as Brendon wet a dish rag and rubbed it along the burn. He turned off the faucet and rung out the excess water from the rag before laying it across my arm.
"Keep this on the burn while I go grab my first aid kit," he advised.
I nodded my head and waited while he went to go get his kit. I wanted to snap at him and tell him this was his entire fault, but I knew it wasn't. Not entirely at least. I knew I had had a hot pan of grease in my hand so I shouldn't have swung around like that. I'm just glad he had been far enough away to not have been burnt as well. I hung my head as I tried my best to forget about the pain in my right arm.
"Hey, I'm back, I'm back," Brendon breathed as he pulled out two chairs from the dining table and sat them across from one another. "Here sit down," he ordered as he started looking around in his kit.
"You carry a random first aid kit around with you? Since when did you turn into and EMT?" I chuckled as I sat down across from him. Those large brown eyes met mine filled with complete seriousness.
"Shouldn't you be glad that I do carry one around at random right now?"
I rolled my eyes. "I do have bandages in my medicine cabinet in the bathroom," I sighed.
"Yeah, well, I bet you don't have special burn cream do you?" he retorted. I clamped my mouth shut and let him do whatever it was he needed to do.
He rubbed on the burn cream and wrapped some gauze lightly, but firmly over the wound. Once he was done and putting the supplies away back into his kit, I glanced up at him under my lashes.
When he had touched me, I no longer felt the heat from the pain, but the heat from his hands touching my arm. His gaze met mine and a smile spread across his face making my cheeks flame up from embarrassment at having been caught staring at him.
"We'll put on some more cream in a few hours and change out your bandages later tonight, okay?" he suggested.
I nodded unable to meet his gaze anymore. Being this close to him and having been caught ogling him just made things that much more uncomfortable for me. How could I have foolishly thought I was over this man?
"You sit here and I'll fix you a plate," Brendon offered getting up. I watched him walk into the kitchen and grab out a couple of plates from the cabinet after having to open a couple of other cabinets before finding the right one.
He was so sweet, but then again he always had been. So it's not like my heart should be pounding this hard against my chest. Nor should my blood be causing me to become dizzy and lightheaded like this. Those large caramel brown eyes should have no effect on me, but they do. And the fact that he randomly carries around a first aid kit? It made me feel strangely more attracted to him that he was always prepared for instances like this to occur.
"Here you are," he said as he set down my breakfast plate in front of me on the table.
"Thanks, Brendon," I softly smiled.
"No, thank YOU for making this incredibly delicious breakfast," he beamed shoving a piece of bacon in his mouth.
I quickly looked away after seeing that smile.
These next couple of days were going to be long indeed.