“No,” he admits, running his hand through his hair. “Fuck.”
Julian gets here quicker than ten minutes. I barely have time to get dressed and take a few deep breaths, reminding myself I need to act normal around my brother, when Damian tells me he’s got the text and Julian is outside.
I sit in the living room, legs crossed, wondering if I should’ve changed out of the tank top and shorts. I’m wearing my bra, at least. I wouldn’t want Julian thinking I walk around the house with my nipples poking through my shirt, tempting Damian, tempting the Beast.
When I hear Julian in the hall, I stand and pace. I can’t sit still.
Every moment throws vignettes at me, hyperreal replays of what Damian and I just did. When I told him to go harder, I wasn’t even sure if I was going to be able to take him, but I sensed how badly he wanted to go into overdrive. I felt his irrepressible desire.
Julian and Damian walk into the room, Julian looking outwardly neat, but like there’s a storm raging inside him.
“Celine,” he murmurs, rushing over and pulling me into a hug.
I wrap my arms around him, but it feels wrong. Not even twenty minutes ago, Damian was inside me.
Julian sits, tugging at a loose thread in his jeans. “I wanted to say sorry,” he murmurs. “For lying for so long–for thinking you weren’t mature enough to understand.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say too fast.
His hand stills. He inclines his head. “Don’t worry… really?”
“You did what you thought was right,” I say quickly. Guilt pushes the words out of me. “You wanted to keep me safe. I can’t hate you for that.”
“She’s right,” Damian says, voice breaking. “You lied, Julian, but your intentions were good. You’re a good man.”
Julian looks at Damian, then looks at me. “I didn’t think you’d forgive me that easily. I’ve been lying for years.”
I wave a hand. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.”
In my mind, Damian is pumping his hips, his thick steel feeling as if it’s expanding inside of me.
Julian leans back, rubbing his jaw.
Damian grunts, “She’s a caring person, Julian. Most women wouldn’t forgive so easily, but Celine… she’s different.”
I shoot him a look, but he isn’t looking at me. I know he’s trying to help, but his guilt is tripping him up just like mine is messing with me. He’s giving too much away.
“It’s true that most women would hate you. But hell, Celine is a nurse who puts others before herself. She loves you too much to hold a grudge. Isn’t that right, Snow…”
He finally stops, eyes clearing, as if he’s waking from a dream. His expression turns from dreamy to suddenly alert and… angry, like he’s angry with himself for letting all that slip out, like he couldn’t imagine such a lack of control before we met.
Julian stands, his hands on his hips, looking at Damian and then at me again, double, then triple take.
“What?” Damian says, voice dark. He knows he’s slipped up.
“Snow, you said,” Julian mutters.
“Snow?”
“You called her Snow, but then you stopped. I don’t know, man. It was like you were going to use some cutesy nickname or something. With my sister.”
Damian stuffs his hands in his pockets, jaw pulsing. He looks like a man ready to do serious damage to whoever dropped him in this mess. The only problem is that it was himself.
“Leave it,” Damian growls.
“What?” Julian laughs in disbelief. “Leave it?Are you kidding me?”
“We’ve both got secrets. I’ve ignored certain things. Perhaps you ought to do the same.”
