“It’s so good to finally meet you,” Amanda said after a dozen seconds. “Everyone’s so excited to meet you.”
“They are?” I asked, a little surprised.
“Of course! It’s going to be great having a big brother, I’ve always wanted one,” Amanda pulled back from our hug to smile at me, and we stood there for a long moment before I realized my hands were still resting on her hips. I pulled them away like I’d burnt myself and ran my fingers through my long hair again.
“At least I know we’ll have some stuff in common,” Amanda said with a grin, pointing to my band t shirt.
“Yeah,” I laughed, then pointed to her shirt. “I’ve never heard of those guys before.”
“It’s my boyfriend’s band, they’re pretty small time, but they’re not bad,” she said with a shrug.
“You’ll have to take me to one of their shows,” I smiled.
“Oh, definitely,” she returned my smile.
Getting to see the Australian local music scene excited me nearly as much as the prospect of having siblings—although I didn’t know my sister would be so gorgeous—and being able to go see live bands with Amanda would be a great way for us to bond and get to know one another. The news of her having a boyfriend really shouldn’t have been a shock to me.
She was a complete babe and would have had every guy in the pub drooling over her back home, but the news still made me feel a little jealous for the guy lucky enough to have such a beauty, even if she was my sister. I guess it was probably a good thing she was taken, then I could get over this silly infatuation and attraction to my sibling. I bet I wouldn’t have felt this way if I’d seen a photo of her before coming.
Maybe.
Amanda lead me to her car—a beat up Honda civic—and I dumped my bags in the back before climbing into the passenger seat. She offered to let me drive, but I declined. I had my own car back home—which I sold before coming here—and loved driving, but I would prefer to be a passenger atm since I didn’t have an Australian driver’s license permit and wasn’t familiar with the road rules. Maybe I could get Amanda to teach me.
The drive home was fairly silent when it came to conversation. The car was nowhere near silent though. Amanda had her phone plugged into the auxiliary port and was blasting what I suspected was her boyfriend’s band. They really were quite good, definitely something I would have listened to if I found them on my own. We talked in patches as she drove, and I found out her boyfriend played lead guitar.
The guitar work on the recording was quite good, even if the recording quality wasn’t the greatest—which was common in the style of Scandinavian black metal. The drums sounded programmed and the vocals were a little drowned out by everything else, but that was nothing a good sound engineer couldn’t fix in a few hours. I was interested to hear how they sounded live.
After about forty-five minutes of hellish city traffic we were on a large six-lane highway heading out of the city itself.
“How come you don’t have a British accent?” Amanda asked after she turned the music down.
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “Mum had the same accent as me since she lived in Australia her whole life, I guess I just picked it up from her.”
“What was she like?” Amanda asked in a carefully neutral tone.
“She was nice,” I answered flatly.
I really wasn’t open to the idea of speaking about my recently deceased mother with my sister from another mother. Especially when her parents’ marriage ended in divorce because our father was hell bent on finding my mother and me. Yeah, that was a bad topic of conversation, at least for now anyway. Amanda must have picked up on my mood and didn’t press the subject, choosing instead to turn the music up and changing the playlist. I grinned as the opening to one of my favourite songs kicked in and I looked across to see a satisfied smile on my siblings face.
She really was quite stunning.
The suburb Amanda lived in looked small and quiet. We drove passed a small grocery store in a town square with a butcher shop, pharmacy, post office and a few other small shops. All the essentials for the suburb to survive without having to travel to the city. A train line passed the small-town square which would give commuters an easy trip into the main city if they wanted to avoid the horrendous traffic we’d just dealt with.
The neighbourhood she lived in was equally tranquil and serene. Each house had a perfectly manicured front yard with neatly trimmed hedges offering privacy to some homes, while others were fenced in wrought iron, brick, wood, or a mixture. The homes were also far larger than any I’d seen back home in the city of London, matching the farm and country houses in size.
Once we arrived at the house, I’d now be calling home, Amanda pulled into the driveway beside a much newer blue Holden Barina. The double car garage doors stood closed ahead of us.
“Here we are, home sweet home,” Amanda said when the engine shut off, killing the music.
“It’s a really nice house,” I said with genuine appreciation.
I craned my neck out my window to get a better look at the two-story brick home. There was no fence blocking in the front yard, but there was a three-metre-high hedge that blocked half of the yard from passer-byers on the footpath, leaving enough space for two cars to fit side-by-side down the short driveway. Each window on the front of the house had security shutters installed that were currently rolled up, making me wonder if the area had a crime problem come dark. I’d have to familiarize myself with the area and what to expect.
“Wait till you see the inside, and your place,” Amanda said with a grin, the motioned for me to get out.
I climbed out of the passenger seat and grabbed my luggage, guitar case and backpack from the boot of the car. Amanda offered to carry something for me, but my male pride made me decline. It really wasn’t all that heavy anyway, plus she had to get the door anyway.
I tried my best to not stare at her backside as I followed her up the four steps to the front door but failed when she wiggled her body as she worked the key into the lock. The lock must have been stiff, because it took her a moment of wiggling and shaking her body that was doing all kinds of devious things to my groin, before getting the front door opened. Once she pulled her key back and stepped aside and gestured dramatically for me to enter.
“Your new home awaits,” she said with a presenters voice.
I shook my head and smiled at her playful nature. I was glad she felt so comfortable in my presence, especially since we’d only met a just over an hour earlier.
I stepped into a wide hallway of polished hardwood floors. A shoe rack to my right told me I’d need to remove my boots, but Amanda waved me down the hallway when I stopped to untie the laces. I followed her instructions and she pushed and prodded me into a large sitting room, fitted out with two, three-seater leather couches positioned opposite each other around a long wooden coffee table. The walls were adorned with framed tour posters from a variety of super-star international bands—some signed—to local shows where I didn’t recognize a single band logo.
Shelves filled most of the empty space and all sorts of Gothic décor filled the shelves. Hanging bats, spooky skeletons, pop vinyls, band memorabilia and everything from cheap, tacky Halloween decorations to super expensive dragon sculptures and incense burners. It looked just like a few friends places did back home, and I immediately felt welcomed and comfortable. But then I saw the other three women sitting side-by-side.
My brain recognized them immediately as being Amanda’s sisters, my own younger sisters. But my dick had a mind of his own.
Each one of them was as gorgeous as Amanda.
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