“That we’d always be family,” West added softly.
I swallowed hard, my heart racing. “Yeah,” I agreed, my voice barely above a whisper. “Foster brothers for life.”
The words hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning. I felt West tense against me, his muscles going rigid under my arm. His eyes flickered with an emotion I couldn’t quite place—disappointment? Frustration?—before he masked it with a tight smile.
“Right,” he said, his voice strained. “Foster brothers.”
I watched as he pulled away, sitting up and running a hand through his tousled curls. The loss of his warmth left me feeling hollow, adrift. My mind was reeling, trying to process West’s reaction. Had I said something wrong?
As West stood and stretched, coughing slightly due to his smoke-irritated lungs, I found myself at a crossroads. The words I’d been holding back for so long were right there on the tip of my tongue. I opened my mouth, ready to let them spill, but nothing came.
West glanced back at me, his expression unreadable. “I’m gonna…need to take a leak,” he said, already heading for the door.
I nodded mutely, watching him go. As the bathroom door clicked shut, I flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
“Shit,” I muttered to myself, rubbing my face with both hands. I’d screwed up somehow. But more than that, I’d missed my chance. Again.
The sound of running water filled the apartment, and with it came a sudden, crystal-clear realization. I couldn’t keep doing this—this dance of almost-confessions and near-misses. West had nearly died yesterday. Life was too short, too precious, to waste it on fear and hesitation.
I sat up, determination coursing through me. As soon as West came out of that bathroom, I would tell him. Everything. How I felt, how long I’d felt it, how terrified I was of losing him—not just to a fire, but to my own cowardice.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come. One way or another, everything was about to change.
10
WEST
Ipractically ran into the bathroom—as much as my injured leg and tired muscles allowed—shutting the door behind me. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might explode out of my chest. What the hell just happened out there?
I did my business, but I wasn’t ready to go out just yet. With shaking hands, I cranked the shower on full blast and stripped off my clothes. The steam quickly filled the small space as I stepped under the scalding spray, hoping it would clear my head.
But all I could think about was Drew. His lips so close to mine. The heat of his breath. The intensity in those bright-blue eyes.
“Fuck,” I muttered, pressing my forehead against the cool tile. My body was betraying me, responding to just the memory of our almost-kiss. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to will my erection away.
But even as I tried, my traitorous mind conjured images of Drew’s strong hands on my body, his lips trailing down my neck…
I groaned, turning to face the spray directly. The water pounded against my flushed skin as I tried to focus on anything else.
The foster brother label echoed in my mind, a cruel joke that had once been a lifeline. Now, it felt like a cage, trapping me in a role I was desperate to escape.
“Fuck,” I hissed, pressing my forehead against the cool tile.
My hand clenched into a fist, the urge to punch something overwhelming. But I couldn’t. Couldn’t risk Drew hearing, coming to check on me. Not when I was this raw, this exposed.
“It’s not fair,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rush of water. “We’re not even related.”
I turned, letting the water cascade down my back as I leaned against the wall. Unbidden, the memory of Drew’s eyes flickered through my mind. The way they’d darkened just before our almost-kiss, pupils blown wide with what I could have sworn was desire.
“No,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Don’t go there, West. You’re seeing what you want to see.”
But what if I wasn’t? What if that look, that touch, meant exactly what I thought it did?
Hope bloomed, fragile and terrifying. I tried to squash it, but it persisted, whispering tantalizing possibilities.
Even if he felt the same, it didn’t change anything. We couldn’t… I couldn’t risk losing him.
The thought of Drew not being in my life, of awkward silences and avoided glances, was too painful to contemplate. But so was the idea of never knowing, of always wondering what might have been.
