I toe off my wet Chucks, then shrug out of my straps, pushing my dress down my body, letting it fall to the floor. I look in the mirror with fresh eyes, as if I didn’t spend an hour in front of it earlier, trying to see what Thayer sees. My cheeks are red, same with the tip of my nose. My eyes are glassy, and my mascara is smudged a little under my right eye. One side of my curls has gone flat, thanks to Ryan’s beer. I’m a mess, and for once, my appearance reflects exactly how I’m feeling on the inside.
I reach for the faucet on the stone wall, flipping it on. I push my underwear down my hips, then kick them over to my join my dress and shoes before I step underneath the large, rectangular showerhead. I close my eyes, letting the hot water fall onto me for long seconds, allowing myself to enjoy it for just a minute. After my minute is up, I make quick work of scrubbing my body with some men’s body wash I find on the built-in shelf and wash my hair with some fancy shampoo and conditioner that I can’t even pronounce the name of, trying in vain not to notice how much it smells like Thayer.
I pluck a clean towel folded on the rack, then wrap the plush material around me and knot it at my chest, relishing in how much softer it is than my towels. It’s the little, insignificant things like this that you don’t realize you miss until you have them again. Padding over toward the vanity, I pluck my clothes off the counter, taking stock of what Thayer gave me. A plain white t-shirt and a tiny pair of black shorts. I frown, holding the shorts in my palm. Are these…mine?
Throwing open the door, I storm across the hall and back into Thayer’s room. He’s standing there, head bent, doing something on his phone. Bored eyes lift to mine, but I don’t miss the flash of hunger in them before he conceals it. I throw the shorts at him and they hit his face before he snatches them.
“Why did you keep those?” I demand. Beads of water roll off my hair and down my legs, leaving a puddle at my feet. I look and feel like a crazy person, but I’m past caring.
“Don’t flatter yourself. They’ve been here since you left them.”
Left them? My cheeks burn when I realize what night he’s referring to. I pad across the floor, closing the distance between us. “For a year?” I ask skeptically.
He shrugs. “I’ve always loved your ass in spandex.”
“God, Thayer, why are you so confusing?” My eyes search his for answers I know I won’t find. “You tell me to leave you alone, and then you seek me out.” My voice lowers to a whisper. “You touch me and then you leave me…”
“Does it make you mad?” he asks, his voice sounding like gravel. “That your brain wants to hate me, but your body…your body fucking loves me.” He rubs a thumb across my cheek, capturing a bead of water. “But you let me touch you anyway because you can’t resist me, can you? And you can’t fucking stand that about yourself.”
His smug tone infuriates me. Even more so because there’s a grain of truth to it. But I straighten my shoulders, deciding to gain the upper hand.
“I could say the same about you,” I start, toying with the knot in my towel with my fingers. His eyes follow the movement as he scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip, the two piercings glinting with the motion. “You can’t seem to stay away from me, and you hate yourself for it, don’t you?” His eyes tighten at the corners, and I know I’m getting to him.
“You’re playing with fire, Shayne,” he warns, taking a step back, but I continue anyway.
“The only difference is I’m the one having my needs met without having to give anything in return.” Summoning confidence I don’t feel, I drop my towel, letting it fall to the floor with a whoosh.
Thayer’s throat bobs when he swallows, and he loses the fight to keep his gaze from falling to my chest. The cold air has my nipples tightening almost painfully as I watch his hungry eyes roam my body.
I hear the door slam downstairs, and I know I have less than a minute to wrap this up before they come barging in.
“It seems to me that you’re the one getting the short end of the stick in this scenario.” I try to snatch the shorts from his grip, but he holds them out of reach, high above his head. I lunge for them and his free arm bands around my waist, spinning me around before he tackles me to the bed. He settles in between my legs, his chest against mine.
“First of all,” he starts, pushing his groin into me. “Who’s to say my needs aren’t being met by someone else?”
I practically growl, shoving him away, but he pins my arms above my head. “Second, you’re going to pay for that later.”
My chest heaves as he holds my gaze, his mouth lowering to place a gentle kiss on the tip of my nipple. I shiver, feeling wetness pool between my legs, but two sets of footsteps on the stairs hit me like a bucket of cold water. Thayer smirks knowingly before he pushes off me, then he’s throwing my clothes at me. I catch them as they land on my chest and scowl up at him.
“Get dressed and meet us in the poolroom.”
Just as his doorknob turns, he blocks their entrance and steps out, shutting the door behind him.
I groan, swiping the clothes from my chest. How the hell does he always win?
Thayer
I adjust my jeans, trying to conceal my dick that’s trying to burst through my zipper. Fuck. I’m losing control. The lines are starting to blur, and I’m getting sloppy. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking bringing her up to my room in front of everyone, fueling the rumors that have surrounded Shayne since she moved in with us, but it’s getting harder to stay away from her. It’s like a compulsion. Getting under her skin, igniting that temper, feeling her hot little breaths on my skin when I make her come. It’s an addiction. A sick, toxic addiction.
I tell myself that there’s no harm in touching her, as long as I don’t let it go any further than that, but even I know I’m playing a dangerous game. Being with Shayne is a slippery slope, and it’s impossible to not want more.
She’s changed, too. She’s always been a good girl at her core, but the side of her she keeps locked up tight, the little spitfire that only I was able to catch glimpses of before, is clawing its way to the surface. And that stunt she just pulled? I didn’t see that coming. When she walked in, dripping wet, face free of makeup, I wanted to push up her towel, bend her over, and slide into her from behind. And when she dropped her towel, her long, blonde hair curving around her perky tits, the tiny metal bars through her nipples, I almost did just that. It took the restraint of a thousand saints not to fuck her right then and there.
“What’s all this about?” Holden asks from his place on the couch. Christian sits on the loveseat, while I stand in front of the TV that stretches across the wall of the billiard room, arms crossed over my chest.
“I want answers, and so does she. But before she gets down here… Someone’s fucking with Shayne. Was it either one of you?” They both shake their heads.
“I told you, man. It wasn’t me. My money’s on Taylor. She’s always had it out for Shayne, even when they were friends,” he says, using air quotes. It’s true. Taylor doesn’t play nice with others, but she didn’t really have a choice before. Being with us offered a certain amount of protection. It made Shayne untouchable. Off limits. Taylor seems to think fucking with Shayne is fair game now that our parents split, and I’m betting that school of thought isn’t limited to Taylor.