Off Limits, Brother's Best Friend Chapter 57

Chapter 57: You Are My Touchstone

Brianna

“Is it my fault that he clearly can't keep his hands to himself?” Callan snapped.

“No, it isn't. But it also isn't your business.” His nostrils flared and his stance broadened.

“It is my business, everything in this city is my fucking business which makes you my business.” He growled.

“All of Port Harcourt, huh?” I taunted him.

“You have no idea.” He said confidently.

What does he mean? He always gives me these vague answers that leave me suspicious of how true they are and what else I am missing here.

“If you are going to stand here all night, I could have finished my shift.” I said, he looked around us for a second and straightened up.

“Let's go,” he pulled me along. When he had nothing left to yell at me about, he blurted.

“That jacket is ridiculously red.” He said and I slapped his hand off me.

“You can mess with me all you want, but when you criticize my fashion choice then those are fighting words.” He laughed, he actually laughed for the first time ever. It was deep and wonderful.

“Fighting words, huh? Go ahead and hit me.” He teased me.

He straightened out in front of me to exaggerate the obvious size difference. I am petite everywhere and he is the opposite, everything on him is big. To go along with his amusement I shoved at him pathetically. He didn't even step back once, I tried moving him and he stood like a stone. He scared the hell out of me when he suddenly lunged forward and snatched me up. I yipped, which amused him and he swung me around once before placing me down.

“I could manhandle you all over this city.” He tucked his bottom lip into his mouth.

“Don't start with me, Callan.” I pointed a small finger at him. He smirked, seeming to be in a good mood tonight.

“I like the red jacket.” He muttered.

“You make anything look good,” he shrugged.

“Humm,” I stuck my nose up at him.

When we got to the apartment, my brother was in the lobby of the elevator. He noticed us and his brows knitted in their middle.

“Did you come in together?” He asked, eyes darting between us.

“I went to get my tattoo, I figured I would give her a ride home.” Callan said casually and he nodded, seeing the practicality of it.

“Did you eat?” He asked me, I shook my head no.

“Alright, I am ordering something from the kitchen. Just let me know what you want.” He said as we entered the elevator.

Callan just looked at us parting ways with him, and I gave him a small wave before the door shut. Bryce looked at me and then up at the closed door like Callan was still standing there.

“You two seem more comfortable with one another than I realized. How often do you see him?” He asked, I blushed which I cursed myself for.

“Justin in passing, and then that time I was locked out and stuff like that.” I shrugged, I played it cool but I was riddled with guilt inside. He nodded and dropped it.

“I got to see Callan's tattoos today in the shop, I saw the one that all of you in your platoon got. Where is yours?” I asked as he unlocked the door.

“My inner biceps.” He said.

We got inside and he began removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

“How many tattoos do you have now?” I was suddenly curious.

“Umm, some part of my arm, and my back.” He pressed his hand to a spot.

“I will show you when I change later.”

I have ordered from the kitchen several times because their food is good and I am not always in the mood to cook after work. We placed our orders and stayed in the living room a little bit.

“Hey, I am going to carve a little timeout on your days off to take you to some places. Here in Rumuola there are a lot of things.” He said and I grinned.

“Really?”

I had been waiting for this. After our dinner, we both went to change.

“Still want to see my tattoos?” I heard my brother ask from across the room. I came out of my room and hollered.

“Yes,” he came out with only his pants on and showed me his different pieces.

My eyes caught one in particular on his arm, there was a beautiful shaded rose, done in all black ink with the words; Brianna Fletcher intertwined with the piece. That is my name, I smiled and poked him.

“What is this?” I asked, he looked down like he almost forgot it was even there.

“Oh, I have that for years.” That was all he said.

“How come you got my name?” I asked, I wanted to see the meaning behind it.

“When I was in the military, it was just a reminder of what I had waiting for me back home. We were put in a lot of very dangerous situations, everyone ended up with a touchstone to remind them of life beyond the carnage and violence. You were mine.” He shrugged.

His words warmed my heart, his big hand came and covered my face to shove me away.

“Oh, shut up.” He said, without me even saying anything.

He isn't a mushy person and I was about to get mushy, he knew it. I kind of thought my brother forgot about me when he started his life through the military and then out here with Callan. But I see that was far from it, he has always had me with him and I really needed to know that. My parents aren't people who will ever be a part of my life again. He is all I have.

****

Later in the night, a thought crossed my mind and I pulled out my phone.

'I never ended up seeing the finished product of your new tattoo. How did it come out?’ I sent it to Callan.

'Good,’’ he replied instantly, but after a few minutes a picture was sent and I almost dropped the phone right out of my hands.

His torsos were visible and he had nothing but a towel wrapped low around his waist. Showing every month watering muscles, I almost forgot to even look at the tattoo. I was too busy looking at everything else, including that sinful V that took me back to that very low towel.

'Holy hell. Is this payback for my picture?’ I had to ask.

'You asked to see the tattoo,’ he pointed.

'Well, I saw it, alright.’ I was drooling.

'Do you like it?’ he was clearly taunting me.

It did look really good on his ribs. His body is perfect. His flesh almost looked slightly wet like he showered or something, not fair. The image could make me wetter than he is.

'Very much.’ That was an honest response.

'And how about yours?’

I didn't understand what he meant, so he sent another message to clarify.

'How does your skin look? Any tattoos I don't know about?’ I smiled.

This gives me a unique opportunity to show him more of my body. He asked for it, he sent me a picture of his so clearly he is the one insinuating I show him the same way.