My One Night Stand's Brother

BELLA I bolted awake, my face soaked with sweat and my heart hammering against my ribs. It was the usual dream. The headlights, gut-wrenching scream and the truck slamming into our car before speeding into the darkness. I stared at the ceiling and tried to calm my breathing. My stomach growled. I pressed my hand against it, trying to remember what I’d eaten that day. I didn’t know what I had eaten or if I had eaten at all. I splashed cold water over my face and looked up at the mirror. My ginger hair hung loose around my shoulders. My green eyes reminded me of Dad, and I quickly looked away. I missed them both. Two years had passed, but I still had recurring nightmares about the incident. My phone buzzed. It was Eloise, my best friend since we were fifteen. No matter how many messages I left on read, she never gave up on me. Eloise: Bella, did you eat today? Don't lie to me. I turned the phone face down. I didn't have the strength to lie, and I didn’t have the strength to tell the truth either. I stepped into the shower, and a few tears slipped down my face beneath the water. I hated how small my life had become. When I came out, Dad's favourite song was playing on the old radio. He used to make Mum and me dance with him until we could barely stand. In the kitchen, I opened the freezer and found the salad Eloise had brought over a few days earlier. I ate a few forkfuls standing up. It tasted like nothing, but at least my stomach quieted. Then music drifted in from a bar a few minutes from my house. I'd walked past it several times without going in. The song playing there was the same one that had just ended on the radio. “What kind of coincidence is this?” I whispered. For once, I wanted to step in there. Bad idea, told myself. I was already standing up. At the back of my wardrobe hung a black dress Eloise had forced me to buy last year. It still had the tag on. I slipped it on and zipped it up, then sprayed the rose-scented perfume my aunt had given me for my twenty-first birthday. I left my hair loose and added a little lipstick. One deep breath. I didn't look better, exactly, but I looked alive. That was enough. The night air was cool on my arms. The song grew louder as I approached the bar. I pushed the door open and went in. The place smelled of perfume and sweet drinks. People laughed over the music. I found an empty stool at the counter and ordered something cold and sweet. My shoulders loosened. At a corner table, two friends were chatting and giggling. I wished Eloise were here. She would have teased me about the dress tag, then pretended not to notice when I finally laughed. That was when I noticed him. He stood at the far end of the bar, his back to me, broad shoulders beneath a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. While everyone around him laughed and shouted, he seemed perfectly calm. I watched him longer than I should have. Then, as if he felt me watching, he turned around. Our eyes met across the room. I felt warmth creep into my cheeks, and for some reason, I couldn't look away. "Here's your drink, ma'am," the waiter said. I took the glass with a smile. When I looked back, he was gone. I sipped slowly, listened to the song, and told myself I was relieved. As I lifted my glass for the last sip, a rich cologne reached me, all musk, amber, and sandalwood. It smelled expensive. I turned, and there he was again, standing beside me. "I'll have a shot of whiskey," he told the bartender. His voice was low and a little rough. "Neat." He rested an elbow on the counter. His sleeve brushed mine, and I focused very intently on my drink, as though I hadn't been watching him earlier. "You've been holding that cup for ten minutes," he said, still looking ahead. "I’m pacing myself." "In a bar? That's a terrible plan." A laugh escaped me before I could stop it, loud and startlingly genuine. I hadn't heard myself laugh like that in a long time. He turned towards me. Up close, his eyes looked tired, as if sleep had been avoiding him too. "There it is," he said. "I wondered what that sounded like." “Do you always talk to strangers at bars?” I asked, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Only the ones who look like they'd rather be somewhere else." "Is it that obvious?" "You've been smiling at everyone's table except your own." His words landed harder than they should have. I lowered my gaze to my glass. He didn't ask what was wrong, as most people would have. He simply waited, and somehow the silence made it easier to breathe. The bartender set down his whiskey. He turned the glass slowly on the counter without drinking it. "I'm..." he began. "Don't." The word came out faster than I meant it to. "No names. Please. Tonight I just want to be nobody." He studied me, rubbed the back of his neck, then gave me a crooked smile. "Nobody it is," he said. "Then nobody can buy nobody a drink." "Deal." He ordered me another drink. As the song played between us. "This song is good," he said after a while. "Who picked it?" My fingers tightened around my glass. "It was my dad's favourite." He turned his head. "Was?" "Yes." My voice came out small. "Was." "Then we should let it play all the way through." So we did. Neither of us said a word until the last note faded. When it ended, he looked at me. "I should say goodnight now," he said. "But I don't want to." "I want to know more about this nobody standing beside me," he added. I studied him properly. His steel-grey eyes stood out against his dark brown hair. He smiled. “I see you can’t stop staring,” he said, looking far too pleased with himself. I rolled my eyes, smiling despite myself. "Don't flatter yourself," I said. "I was only trying to work out what colour your eyes really are." "And?" “Grey.” I lifted my glass, grateful for something to hide behind. “Steel grey.” "Good. Now you know one thing about me." He turned his whiskey slowly in his hand. "Your turn. One true thing about you. No names, no jobs." The honest answer was that I hadn’t been out at night in two years. And I didn’t have a job to name anyway. "I haven't been in a place like this in a long time," I said. "Then why tonight?" "I really needed some fresh air tonight." He nodded slowly, as if it was the best answer I could have given. My stomach chose that moment to growl. His eyebrows lifted. "When did you last eat?" "I had some salad earlier." "That's not dinner." He straightened up and slid a few notes across the counter to the bartender. "There's a place two streets over that stays open all night. Come with me." I stared down and my drink and sighed “fine”. I picked up my bag and stood up. "Lead the way, nobody," I said. He laughed, a real laugh, and held the door open for me. I didn't know his name. I told myself that was the whole point.