The first time I met Aiden Davis was when I was eight years old, when Mom, my older brother Reo, and I had just arrived in New York and landed at the airport. It was during winter, and I had a terrible cold during the entire flight.
Aiden, who was sixteen years old at the time, walked straight up to me, took my small, cold hands into his large, warm ones, and said, "Hello, Haru. My name is Aiden. I've heard so much about you from Dad and I'm glad to finally meet you. We're going to be brothers soon. Isn't that great? I'm going to take good care of you."
All I could do was stare at his refreshing smile, mesmerized. For an eight-year-old Japanese boy who had lived in a small town all his life where there were hardly any Westerners around, I found the sight of Aiden fascinating. I thought his blond hair and hazel-green eyes beautiful.
I felt drawn to him.
Brothers? We were going to be brothers, he said, and it made my heart swell with joy that we were going to be one big, happy family: Mom; my new dad, Michael Davis; new brothers, Aiden, Noah, Mason, and Isaac; and Reo and me.
That joy, however, only lasted five years, because just after their fifth wedding anniversary Mom and Stepdad passed away in a motor vehicle accident. That joy had swiftly and unapologetically turned to sorrow. Slowly and surely though, that sorrow turned to determination, hard work, and eventually joy again, because the six brothers had stuck together through thick and thin. For me personally, that joy started turning to agony three years ago, all for a different reason, and the handsome face that had used to mesmerize me now pissed me off.
"Haru? Wake up! It's already half past seven." Aiden's deep-timbred voice insistently nagged at me.
I flashed my eyes open and stared at the face that never failed to please a woman, the face that made my heart ache.
My heart skipped, which only managed to annoy me even more at such an early hour of the morning.
I groaned in protest and rolled over, giving my back to him. Damn, but I didn't want to see him so cheerful, grinning at me with that ridiculous smile of his. It affected me in a bad way.
I muttered, "Didn't I tell you not to come into my room? Privacy, Aiden, privacy."
Aiden laughed wholeheartedly. "Sorry, but I can't help myself. Old habits die hard since I'm always the one to wake you up. You always sleep so deeply, which is adorable." He chuckled, as if he found that amusing.
Who found an eighteen-year-old sleeping adorable, anyway?
"You'd better get up, otherwise you're going to be late for your part-time job," he said as a reminder.
I said, "I'll get up once you've made yourself scarce."
I knew I sounded snarky, but I couldn't help myself. Seeing him first thing in the morning was the best and worst thing to me. Damn, but my heart still hadn't stopped racing since he'd appeared.
Aiden chuckled merrily. He was always like that with his easygoing attitude, taking everything I said as a joke and lightly brushing it aside.
He said, "You know, you used to like my face, a lot. You used to always stare at my face and comment on how much you liked it."
I felt him sitting on the side of my bed and then leaning on the lumpy cocoon of my body.
He continued, as if perplexed, "What happened?"
What happened? Really? What the hell happened?
I wanted to yell at him, "You happened!"
I fell for you, for God's sake. Hard!
Hiding the forbidden feelings I had for him, I grumbled into the pillow, "People change."
"What was that, Haru? Did you say something?"
I flipped the duvet away from me, sat up straight, and muttered, "I said people change."
Aiden gave me a warm smile. "So, you're finally awake. About time." He reached out and tousled my bed hair. "Good morning, Haru. How was your sleep?"
I brushed his hand away from my head, my face hot with embarrassment. If I told him that I had masturbated while thinking about him last night before going to sleep, and the fact that during sleep, I also dreamed of doing him, which made me so deliriously happy, would that count as a good night's sleep?
I muttered, "It's okay. Sleep is sleep."
Aiden cocked his head to one side. "You're moody today."
I put my hand on his chest and pushed him off my bed. Damn, but I felt so uncool that I had to put in quite a bit of effort just to make him move. The fact that he was bigger than me was something that always riled me up. With that type of athletic physique and such a gorgeous face and charming smile, who wasn't going to fall for him? Ever since high school, there had always been strings of girlfriends attached to him.
Sometimes, I wondered what happened to me; the runt of the family. Reo, my biological brother, wasn't like me. He—like our stepbrothers Aiden, Noah, and Mason—was at least six feet tall and had an athletic build. Isaac, although he wasn't sternly framed like the rest of his brothers, was still a head above me.
And me? I was barely over five foot five. Barely. Who was going to find me attractive?
When they, the girls, referred to us brothers—the Davises and the Onos—Aiden was always the gorgeous one, Noah the broodingly handsome one, Reo the hot Asian one, Mason the stunning one, Isaac the attractive one, and me the cute one.
Why was I cute? Just because I was below the average height for a male didn't mean they should refer to me as cute.
Once Aiden was finally off my bed, I said, "I'm getting ready, so just leave, already."
"I got it. I got it," he said. Before shutting the door behind him, he asked, "Do you want me to drop you off at work?"
I shook my head. "I can bike there. I'm old enough to look after myself. Stop treating me like a kid."
The fact was, Aiden was the only person in our family who pampered me and treated me like a kid. My mom, Sana Ono, had never spoiled me when she was alive. Reo, who was four years older than me, and our three other stepbrothers, Noah, Mason, and Isaac, didn't either. They treated me like any normal brother would—close, but not too close. Although I seemed to remember Stepdad had been a little bit like Aiden—overly fond of me and doting on me.
Aiden chuckled. "See? Old habits die hard," he said before closing the door.