Just being near it makes my skin crawl. The whole closed-in spaces thing and I have a complicated relationship—as in, they try to suffocate me, and I try not to have a complete mental breakdown.
So, the door has to go.
"You sure you want to take it down?" Cornflower-blue eyes study me from the doorway. My new roommate Eli shifts his weight from foot to foot. Sweet boy probably thinks I'm crazy already. "Don't you want some privacy?"
"Privacy is overrated." The first pin slides free, and I move to the next one. "Speaking of surprises, how'd you end up with me as a roommate anyway?"
“Jamie met someone and moved off campus." Eli holds onto the slab as I take care of the bottom hinge. "Kinda odd, though. He was really secretive about it. "
We carry the freed door out and lean it against the wall in the common area.
"Thanks for the help." I wipe my hands on my ripped skinny jeans. "And for not pushing about the whole door thing."
Eli's gentle smile reminds me of a golden retriever puppy. "Everyone's got their stuff."
If he only knew.
I head back into my room, then stare at the amount of shit filling the space. Mr. Knight went overboard with his "glad you’re back home" care package. New clothes, new laptop, even a fucking brand-new Porsche Cayenne. As awkward as the luxury SUV makes me feel, I can’t deny what a sweet ride it is.
A little over two weeks ago, I was only focused on passing my GED. Now I'm actually in college, expected to figure out what I want to do with my life.
No pressure or anything.
Zach's been MIA since our little bathroom incident. Though "incident" is too mild a word for grinding againsteach other all because I decided—for reasons I still don’t fucking understand—to kiss him back after he slammed his mouth down on mine.
Epic clusterfuck. That’s what it is. One I can’t stop replaying in my head.
But it's not the kiss haunting me or how good his pierced dick felt against mine through thin cotton, nor the fact I'm stupidly attracted to my psychotic stepbrother who literally kidnapped me.
No, it’s how I bit his lip, breaking the skin. It’s how I clawed his back, collecting blood under my nails.
His blood.
My stomach turns, just like it did when I puked in my trash can after running back to my room that night.
I’d hurt him. Again.
Then there’s his comment . . . He thinks I enjoy doing it.
I don’t, not one fucking bit.
Also, I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault he’s stayed away. Like I drove him out of his own home.
"Fuck." I drop onto my bed, running my fingers through my hair.
What’s wrong with me?
I’d waited all day and built up the courage to finally apologize. But Zach never showed, so I went to sleeponly to wake and find him watching me. Again. Of course, I got angry and decided to go pick a fight with the asshole.
But seeing him jerk off in the shower . . .
My dick perks up like a meerkat spotting food. Apparently it has zero shame about lusting after the asshole. But those tattoos running down his arm, the way his muscles flexed as he stroked himself . . . those fucking barbells along his hard, thick shaft. . .
I groan and roll over, burying my face in my pillow.
“Want some help unpacking?”
Fantastic timing. Nothing like my new roommate catching me mid-crisis over my stepbrother's dick.
