Ryan was out, sunning himself by the pool once again. It was early afternoon and the sun was high in a cloudless sky. Between the heat and the humidity (got to love Georgia weather!) he was sweating without even moving. Of course he was in the nude, there was nobody around to be embarrassed in front of. Even Heather, who used to love to sneak up on him while he was sunbathing, wasn't around. The thought was only a tiny bit worrisome in who she had taken off with the night before. Opening his eyes, he turned his head to look down at his phone. It was Flynn, again. With a sigh, Ryan picked up his phone and pressed "ignore" then tossed the phone back down. Resuming his position, his eyes closed once again. The party was on his mind, and he hoped Heather got home soon so they could start planning it. He hadn't heard from Mai about the fashion show, so he really didn't know how much longer he'd be in town.
He wasn't long on his own. Though he probably didn't hear it, an unfamiliar car pulled up outside the house, disgorging his worrisome little sister with a beaming smile and an armful of clothes that were destined for the trash. Letting herself in, Heather opened up with a roar of hello. "Ry! I'm home! Get your pants on, I'm gonna pounce you!" Because, naturally, she was in an incredibly good mood. One very successful night, and suddenly she was her familiarly sunny self once again.
Ryan grinned when he heard his sister's announcement. At least she gave him the head's up this time. Sitting up, he jerked his bright red and yellow trunks up. And then into the house to meet up with his sister. "Hey, Otter!" he called out with a chuckle. "Thought you were going to end up changing your mailing address. Took you long enough to get home," he playfully scolded. "You know how I worry!" In an almost perfect imitation of their father.
"Oh God, don't get started," she laughed, throwing her armful straight into the kitchen trashcan, and tossing her bag onto the counter. Okay, so she was wearing clothes he could be pretty sure she'd never bought, but he might overlook that, right? "I'll have you know I was up pretty late, and he let me sleep in. So there, Smartypants."
When she threw the clothes in the garbage, Ryan gave her a curious look. Yes, he noticed that she was wearing jeans and a button down now, but figured she had went upstairs to change before greeting him. Still, throwing away clothes here, in front of him, did seem rather odd. "I don't remember you packing an over night bag, last night?" It was really not a big deal and Ryan shrugged once again.
"Oh. Oh, I-I-I didn't." Stammering was not something Heather did. Nor was blushing bright crimson when her big brother mentioned her wardrobe. But the frankly huge smile that lit up her face went some way to explaining that away. Screw the NDA, this is Ryan. "We got kinda rough, and my clothes didn't really survive the night," she confessed with a charming giggle. "He, uh ... well, I think he sent someone out to get these for me while I was asleep."
Ryan's brows shot up and he shook his head with a laugh. "Dude, I don't need the gory details," he chuckled. "Just so long as he was nice to you and treated you like a lady." He leaned back against a counter, his hands gripping the edge. "So, did he?" The crimson blush and stammering only placed the notion of her going gooey eyed over Christian Moretz in concrete.
The specter of the birth control row loomed in the back of her mind, firmly pushed aside in favor of not giving Ryan any reason to punch Christian without a firm basis. "Yeah, he did," she assured her brother cheerfully. "Of course, I didn't behave much like a lady ... but you don't want the details, so I'll stop there. Oh, but thanks for that condom trick, by the way. Awesome reaction."
"Oh Jesus H. Christ!" Ryan groaned and shook his head. "Already, TMI." He pat her on her head as he passed by. "So have you set the date yet?" Oh, he was going to tease her until the cows come home over this one! Strategically, he put the kitchenette table between them.
She laughed again, one hand emptying out her clutch onto the counter before throwing it at him. "Dude, that was a joke!" Although if he asked, I would be in white before he got the last word out, but never mind. "He does want to see me again, though. He's gonna call. And before you say it, he is going to call. Just trust me on this."
Ryan flinched, bringing his arms up to deflect the clutch. One thing he'd learned growing up with Heather is that she had a hell of an arm and was deadly accurate with it. "Hey!" he laughed as the purse clattered to the floor. "I believe you, but if he doesn't and it upsets you, then he'll have a problem with me. Nobody hurts my Otter." He said it proudly and sashayed over to her to envelope her into a Ryan special hug. "Now what was this about ice cream and pop up tents?"
"Yes!" Enveloped in her brother's arms, Heather wrapped herself around Ryan and felt herself properly relax for the first time since Christian Moretz had asked her to dance the night before. Here was home and safe, and as much as she loved the thrill of danger that came with Mr Moretz, it was nice to get a little relief from his intensity. "We have a party to plan, don't we?"
"That, we do," he grinned and then stepped out of the embrace. "You get the ice cream and spoons and I'll set up the tent in Mom and Dad's room." He grinned. "Ready, set, go!" With that, he turned and hurriedly got upstairs to gather items from a linen closet. Then it was off to his parent's bedroom. He chuckled at the memory of how this little tradition started.
When Heather and Ryan were old enough, in their parent's eyes, to be left alone with just the house staff, Ryan was no more than ten years old. During one such period of time, a loud thunderstorm rattled the windows and terrified the young Ryan. Butler Scott was a kind old fellow and knew just what to do to make the children feel safe while their parents were out of town. He'd built a fort with sheets, pillows and tall ladder back chairs. Add in the ice cream and the storm was soon forgotten on their little adventure. It's been that way, ever since.
By the time Heather got upstairs, her shoes kicked off, and a huge tub of ice cream in hand, spoons tucked in her back pocket, Ryan had set up Scott's play tent with sheets and chairs, the floor padded with pillows beneath. "Aw, man, you used the old stuff!" she crowed happily, dropping onto her hands and knees to crawl inside, laughing excitedly. "Tighter squeeze than I remember."
Ryan was sitting inside, Indian style, and still had to bend his back and stoop his head to keep from blinding himself with the draped sheets. "Yes, but they're the satin ones that Mom loves," he chuckled. He reached for and took the ice cream from her as she crawled into the little camp. The lid was pulled off and set aside. "Maybe we should have used the five sleeper," another grin as he pushed the ice cream into the center, between them. "Can you imagine Mom's face if she walked in to find spikes in her precious hardwood?"
Heather snorted, twisting to lie on her side, her head propped on her hand as she pulled a pad and pen from her other back pocket. "Pig out, dude. Live fast, die when Mom finds out you came home for a visit while she wasn't here." She grinned, licking ice-cream off her own spoon before pulling the lid off her pen. "Okay, so ... basics. Food, music, guests. Shoot."
Plucking up the spoon, he scooped out the ice cream and popped it into his mouth. "Hmm... " spoon was removed from his mouth so he could speak. "I say we just grill some burgers, brats, mets, and dogs. Chips, dips, chains and whips," he chuckled. "Nothing too fancy, I don't want a sit down meal. And booze, lots of booze. I haven't gotten properly plastered since before I met David." Another scoop was taken and devoured before he continued. "Music, I'll leave that up to you. Nobody really likes my choices. Though it all sounds like Pachebel to me," and that was said with a shrug. "Invite the entire gang, and your intended," he chuckled as he gave her a pointed gaze. No, he was not done teasing her yet.
"Okay ..." Her pen scraped over the page as she wrote down an abbreviated version of what he'd said, smirking at his comment on music. "What I meant was ... do you want a band, a few bands, a DJ, or just a mix-tape?" Taking another mouthful from her spoon, she eyed him sardonically as he mentioned her "intended". "He's not my intended. At the moment, he's a damned good fuck who wants to get to know me better, and I'm not opposed to that. Dating was mentioned."
"Oh, a DJ, definitely. Do you know any good ones?" Of course she did, Heather was at the top of the social food chain. He enjoyed another mouthful of the creamy, chocolate delight and finally stretched out on the floor. It felt good to relax and just be himself again. "Dating, seriously? That's got to be a first. When we were in school the rumors had it that he was either gay or a unich."
He wasn't long on his own. Though he probably didn't hear it, an unfamiliar car pulled up outside the house, disgorging his worrisome little sister with a beaming smile and an armful of clothes that were destined for the trash. Letting herself in, Heather opened up with a roar of hello. "Ry! I'm home! Get your pants on, I'm gonna pounce you!" Because, naturally, she was in an incredibly good mood. One very successful night, and suddenly she was her familiarly sunny self once again.
Ryan grinned when he heard his sister's announcement. At least she gave him the head's up this time. Sitting up, he jerked his bright red and yellow trunks up. And then into the house to meet up with his sister. "Hey, Otter!" he called out with a chuckle. "Thought you were going to end up changing your mailing address. Took you long enough to get home," he playfully scolded. "You know how I worry!" In an almost perfect imitation of their father.
"Oh God, don't get started," she laughed, throwing her armful straight into the kitchen trashcan, and tossing her bag onto the counter. Okay, so she was wearing clothes he could be pretty sure she'd never bought, but he might overlook that, right? "I'll have you know I was up pretty late, and he let me sleep in. So there, Smartypants."
When she threw the clothes in the garbage, Ryan gave her a curious look. Yes, he noticed that she was wearing jeans and a button down now, but figured she had went upstairs to change before greeting him. Still, throwing away clothes here, in front of him, did seem rather odd. "I don't remember you packing an over night bag, last night?" It was really not a big deal and Ryan shrugged once again.
"Oh. Oh, I-I-I didn't." Stammering was not something Heather did. Nor was blushing bright crimson when her big brother mentioned her wardrobe. But the frankly huge smile that lit up her face went some way to explaining that away. Screw the NDA, this is Ryan. "We got kinda rough, and my clothes didn't really survive the night," she confessed with a charming giggle. "He, uh ... well, I think he sent someone out to get these for me while I was asleep."
Ryan's brows shot up and he shook his head with a laugh. "Dude, I don't need the gory details," he chuckled. "Just so long as he was nice to you and treated you like a lady." He leaned back against a counter, his hands gripping the edge. "So, did he?" The crimson blush and stammering only placed the notion of her going gooey eyed over Christian Moretz in concrete.
The specter of the birth control row loomed in the back of her mind, firmly pushed aside in favor of not giving Ryan any reason to punch Christian without a firm basis. "Yeah, he did," she assured her brother cheerfully. "Of course, I didn't behave much like a lady ... but you don't want the details, so I'll stop there. Oh, but thanks for that condom trick, by the way. Awesome reaction."
"Oh Jesus H. Christ!" Ryan groaned and shook his head. "Already, TMI." He pat her on her head as he passed by. "So have you set the date yet?" Oh, he was going to tease her until the cows come home over this one! Strategically, he put the kitchenette table between them.
She laughed again, one hand emptying out her clutch onto the counter before throwing it at him. "Dude, that was a joke!" Although if he asked, I would be in white before he got the last word out, but never mind. "He does want to see me again, though. He's gonna call. And before you say it, he is going to call. Just trust me on this."
Ryan flinched, bringing his arms up to deflect the clutch. One thing he'd learned growing up with Heather is that she had a hell of an arm and was deadly accurate with it. "Hey!" he laughed as the purse clattered to the floor. "I believe you, but if he doesn't and it upsets you, then he'll have a problem with me. Nobody hurts my Otter." He said it proudly and sashayed over to her to envelope her into a Ryan special hug. "Now what was this about ice cream and pop up tents?"
"Yes!" Enveloped in her brother's arms, Heather wrapped herself around Ryan and felt herself properly relax for the first time since Christian Moretz had asked her to dance the night before. Here was home and safe, and as much as she loved the thrill of danger that came with Mr Moretz, it was nice to get a little relief from his intensity. "We have a party to plan, don't we?"
"That, we do," he grinned and then stepped out of the embrace. "You get the ice cream and spoons and I'll set up the tent in Mom and Dad's room." He grinned. "Ready, set, go!" With that, he turned and hurriedly got upstairs to gather items from a linen closet. Then it was off to his parent's bedroom. He chuckled at the memory of how this little tradition started.
When Heather and Ryan were old enough, in their parent's eyes, to be left alone with just the house staff, Ryan was no more than ten years old. During one such period of time, a loud thunderstorm rattled the windows and terrified the young Ryan. Butler Scott was a kind old fellow and knew just what to do to make the children feel safe while their parents were out of town. He'd built a fort with sheets, pillows and tall ladder back chairs. Add in the ice cream and the storm was soon forgotten on their little adventure. It's been that way, ever since.
By the time Heather got upstairs, her shoes kicked off, and a huge tub of ice cream in hand, spoons tucked in her back pocket, Ryan had set up Scott's play tent with sheets and chairs, the floor padded with pillows beneath. "Aw, man, you used the old stuff!" she crowed happily, dropping onto her hands and knees to crawl inside, laughing excitedly. "Tighter squeeze than I remember."
Ryan was sitting inside, Indian style, and still had to bend his back and stoop his head to keep from blinding himself with the draped sheets. "Yes, but they're the satin ones that Mom loves," he chuckled. He reached for and took the ice cream from her as she crawled into the little camp. The lid was pulled off and set aside. "Maybe we should have used the five sleeper," another grin as he pushed the ice cream into the center, between them. "Can you imagine Mom's face if she walked in to find spikes in her precious hardwood?"
Heather snorted, twisting to lie on her side, her head propped on her hand as she pulled a pad and pen from her other back pocket. "Pig out, dude. Live fast, die when Mom finds out you came home for a visit while she wasn't here." She grinned, licking ice-cream off her own spoon before pulling the lid off her pen. "Okay, so ... basics. Food, music, guests. Shoot."
Plucking up the spoon, he scooped out the ice cream and popped it into his mouth. "Hmm... " spoon was removed from his mouth so he could speak. "I say we just grill some burgers, brats, mets, and dogs. Chips, dips, chains and whips," he chuckled. "Nothing too fancy, I don't want a sit down meal. And booze, lots of booze. I haven't gotten properly plastered since before I met David." Another scoop was taken and devoured before he continued. "Music, I'll leave that up to you. Nobody really likes my choices. Though it all sounds like Pachebel to me," and that was said with a shrug. "Invite the entire gang, and your intended," he chuckled as he gave her a pointed gaze. No, he was not done teasing her yet.
"Okay ..." Her pen scraped over the page as she wrote down an abbreviated version of what he'd said, smirking at his comment on music. "What I meant was ... do you want a band, a few bands, a DJ, or just a mix-tape?" Taking another mouthful from her spoon, she eyed him sardonically as he mentioned her "intended". "He's not my intended. At the moment, he's a damned good fuck who wants to get to know me better, and I'm not opposed to that. Dating was mentioned."
"Oh, a DJ, definitely. Do you know any good ones?" Of course she did, Heather was at the top of the social food chain. He enjoyed another mouthful of the creamy, chocolate delight and finally stretched out on the floor. It felt good to relax and just be himself again. "Dating, seriously? That's got to be a first. When we were in school the rumors had it that he was either gay or a unich."