“How the fuck would you know? You’ve only been allowed in for four years,” Seb huffed in mock annoyance. “Fuck all of you. I’m going home.”
I laughed along with the rest of them, but something about acknowledging Seb’s past hookups sat like lead in my belly. I already knew this about him, and it wasn’t like I wasn’t out there having fun and hooking up with people in the city. At least before I settled down with Blake.
Scarlett was getting tired and wanted to go home too. They were my ride home since I had hitched a ride with her and Luke to Harpoon’s, so I said my goodbyes to Reid and Claire and left with them.
“Thanks for coming out tonight, Lyds,” Luke said once we got back to the house.
“Yeah, it was a good time. I’m glad I went.” I almost hadn’t. I had been home for months now, but going out with the group still felt awkward, like I was inserting myself into their circle, even though every one of them demanded that I come out with them.
“You and Seb sure seemed to be getting along,” Scarlett said with a smile.
“They’ve known each other forever,” Luke said to Scarlett. “I’m just glad that whatever issue you guys had seems to becleared up.”
Was it? Weweregetting along, mostly. Ever since he told me that our night together stayed between us, I had found it a little harder to hate him. But then, every time he made my heart beat faster, I hated him a little more for having that kind of power over me. Or maybe I just hated myself a little more.
“Right. Well, good night,” I said, swaying a little on my way to my room. That third drink put me just over the edge from sober to not-sober. I stripped off my clothes, avoiding looking at myself in the mirror. The reminder of my naïveté was etched onto my upper thigh. It was easy to ignore it throughout the day. It was only when I caught myself in the mirror that I had to fight the urge to burn it off.
I lay in bed listening to the soft rain coming down in the peaceful quiet of the night.
Moans. Loud and lewd.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
The rhythmic banging left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
I found my noise-canceling headphone and connected my music app. My fingers brushed over my text messages. Seb’s name caught my attention, sitting toward the top of my recent conversations. I scrolled past it to another text chain, opening it up to read the harsh words. I validated for the millionth time that Blake was still blocked, not that I ever intended to unblock him, and backed out of our last conversation without reading any more of it.
I felt too wired to sleep. Tipsy in the best way.
If I had to survive the misery of hearing the intimate details of my brother’s sex life, then I was going to share that miserywith others. Wyatt and Maeve were taking care of their daughters. Reid and Claire were still out for the night. I wasn’t that close to Wes, even when we were growing up. That only left one person for me to bitch to.
Me: If I have to listen to my brother’s loud ass grunts one more time…
Seb: Luke and I are close, but we aren’t that close. You can keep those details to yourself.
Me: I don’t want those details either!
Me: And considering I saved you from a bed full of ferrets today, I think you owe me a bitch session.
Seb: Okay. You have a point there. But I can think of a thousand other ways I can repay you for that that doesn’t include learning what my boy sounds like when he comes.
Me: It’s a lot of grunting and moaning. It’s the least sexy sound in the world.
Seb: Sounds like a rough night for you
Me: Oh, I’m not suffering alone. I will Facetime you just so you can hear this too.
Seb: Who says I would answer a Facetime from you?
Me: I’m tipsy and I’m laying in my bed with very little covering me. Are you telling me you won’t answer?
A minute passed before Seb responded. I knew what I was doing—seeking validation from anyone just to remind myself that I wasn’t the washed-up piece of trash I was told I would be withouthim. I wasn’t proud of myself for letting those thoughts infiltrate my mind, but they did nonetheless.
My phone vibrated in my hand, and I nervously opened it, not sure if I was hoping for that validation or a rejection.
Seb: You’re tipsy or you’re drunk?
My brow furrowed, the question catching me off-guard.
