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myself getting wet, imagining him taking me right then and there in the empty kitchen, on the counter…
    “Don’t pretend to know anything about me,” Jack growled in a low, husky voice, breaking me away from my fantasy. “Just… don’t.”
    Suddenly he moved away, turned around and left the room. I guess I touched a nerve , I thought as I moved to the fridge to find myself some food for dinner.
    Still, I wondered what it was about him, what he was hiding. I had obviously struck a nerve, and I was curious as to what it was, even though I still thought he was a douchebag.
    I imagined Jack left, since when I got back to my room I had a look out the window and his car was gone. I didn’t see him again until our next class together, three days later.
    * * *
    Over the next couple of weeks I discovered first hand just how frustrating living next to my brother really was.
    Sometimes it was the loud music: if I was trying to study, it was often far more productive to get Michael to drive me to a local coffee shop than to stay at home, since Jack would blast hard rock from his speakers every single night.
    On the other hand, I thought it was nice to get out of the house, and enjoying a hot chocolate while I studied was a nice treat (I could never sleep well at night when I drank coffee after dinner). Plus I knew I’d never run into Jack here, this was far too nice an establishment for him.
    It wasn’t the loud music that really, really bugged me though. It was the girls.
    The first time I saw one of them I half expected it to be the girl I’d seen sitting on his lap. But no, different girl. Different hairstyle, still blonde, still rake thin, still absolutely gorgeous.
    The one the next night was different still.
    Then, gross, the night after that he was back to the first girl.
    Every night I wished the walls between our rooms were thicker.
    My brother was a womanizing asshole, and the more time I spent living near him, the more I hated him.
    Then, of course, there was my brother’s habit of walking around the house without a shirt on, sometimes in just a towel as he went to the expansive pool outside. I was right about his tattoos, he had two on his chest, one on his abs and one on his right arm. The man was a badboy, through and through.
    I hated the feelings I had for my brother whenever I saw his body. I couldn’t help myself. I knew I shouldn’t feel that way, I knew that it was wrong, but I couldn’t help it.
    It was almost like he knew. Like he knew that every time he walked past me with those abs on display my breath caught in my throat. Like he knew that when he walked past wearing tight pants I immediately started to dream about what was underneath. It was like he was doing it on purpose, to taunt me.
    Instead I got to listen to him have sex with a different girl almost every night.
    And it drove me insane.

Chapter Eight
    Before I knew it Christmas was just around the corner. Annie and I were spending every waking moment –and quite a few moments where we weren’t awake - together in the library, trying to cram for our exams.
    “You know, I actually thought I liked Intro to English Lit,” Annie mumbled as she desperately tried to find a certain quote in Pride and Prejudice.
    “Tell me about it. I don’t even know what this exam is going to be like. Multiple choice? Essays? A bit of everything?”
    “Probably that last one, so they make us work super hard at it.”
    I gave up and groaned as I lay down on the floor in the corner where the two of us were sitting.
    “No, don’t do that, you’re going to fall asleep again,” Annie told me. “And you’re way better at dissecting the themes in stories than I am.”
    “At this point, the only story I’m interested in is one where the heroine doesn’t ever feel the need to get an education.” Still, I forced myself up off the floor and stifled a yawn.
    “I’m going to go get some more coffee. Do you want anything?”
    “Definitely also some coffee.