“What are you even talking about?” I ask, setting the glass down, feeling uneasy about the frustration coming off him.
“Nash,” he replies, his voice low, and his eyes drop to the floor. “I popped in to him sneaking out of your room.” I cringe, twisting my mouth. “He’s my brother, Slo, and I love him, but he doesn’t fucking deserve you. He’s playing with you.”
“I know,” I admit, and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“Then why did you let him in your bed? Why did youfuckhim again?” Saylor’s emotions hit me like a wave, and I feel the sting of his words deep in my chest. There’s a tightness gripping my heart, not just from the truth in his words but from the pain I see reflected in his eyes. It’s like looking into a mirror, seeing my own conflicted feelings staring back at me, magnified by his frustration.
I wrap my arms around myself, a meager shield against his concern. His words are a reminder of my own weakness, echoing the internal battle I’ve been fighting. I want to be angry, to defend my actions, but his pain is too raw, too real, and it resonates with the emptiness I’ve tried to ignore.
I bite my lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me. “I… I don’t know. I can’t help how he makes me feel. It wasn’t planned, okay? I wanted to resist, but it was the situation, and?—”
“The tequila?” he interjects, raising an eyebrow, his tone sharp.
I could lie, but I choose honesty, my own frustration mounting. “Even if I was sober, I’m not sure I would have acted any differently.”
Saylor scrunches up his nose, and I release a long sigh, sensing the tension escalating between us. “Why would you do that, Slo?” Saylor’s voice is strained, his fists clenched at his sides. “I get the first time it happened. You didn’t know each other, and one-night stands are a thing, but you know himnow. You know he’s a player. You know he doesn’t give a fuck about you. How many times are you going to let him use you?”
A surge of anger and defensiveness comes to the surface. “You don’t understand. It’s not that simple. And if anything, I used him right back.”
Saylor’s eyes flash with frustration. “Then explain it to me! Help me understand why you get back with him, even when you know it’s wrong.”
I can see the protective instinct raging behind his eyes. It’s not just frustration—it’s fear. Fear for me, fear that I’ll get hurt beyond repair.
Tears well up in my eyes as I struggle to find the right words. “I’m lonely, Saylor. And he makes me feel less lonely, just for a few hours. I know I shouldn’t let it happen, and I should be stronger. I should leave as fast as possible. But it’s so nice not to be lonely for once. Even if it will hurt in the future. Or maybe even tomorrow.”
Saylor’s anger seems to waver, replaced by a deep sadness. “You’re not alone, Slo,” he whispers, taking a step closer and reaching out to hold my shoulders. A warm, tingling sensation runs through me as he does. “We have each other. I’ve got you, and I swear I won’t hurt you. Not today, not tomorrow,never. Isn’t that enough?”
I lower my head. “I can’t just turn off my feelings. And you, you’re going to move on. You will leave me someday. Because that’s how it’s supposed to be.”
Saylor’s shoulders slump, and he runs a hand through his hair, clearly torn. Guilt gnaws at me for sleeping with Nash again, even though I could sense it would hurt Saylor. I could tell while we were dancing. Yet here he is, still telling me he’s here for me.
“I just hate seeing you with someone who doesn’t value you,” Saylor mutters, furrowing his brows.
I hate that I’m the cause of that look in his eyes, the one that’s a mixture of disappointment and concern. I hate that I’ve made him feel helpless, that I’m adding to his burdens when he’s already got enough of his own.
I take a deep breath. “I know, and I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, Saylor.”
I turn back to the kitchen counter, resting my palms on it, and look out the window.
I’m the worst.
Saylor steps up behind me, his arms coming around my stomach as he whispers in my ear, “I understand. I’m not mad… or not anymore.”
I turn to face him, his arms still wrapped around me, chills coursing through me as he puts his forehead to mine. “How can you say that? I hurt you,” I whisper, trying to look into his eyes, but he has them closed.
He releases a long breath. “It’s not your fault. I’m just… jealous because he can give you things I can’t. He can hold you for real,” he whispers, and a deep shiver runs over my back before I realize he is trying to squeeze me against him, which doesn’t work, of course. “But I want all of that for you. You need someone with a pulse to hold you tight, to keep you warm. I’ve been alone long enough too, remember? I get it. It just makesme mad that he doesn’t value what you give him.What he can have. He never values the important things.” His eyes open, and his thumb comes up to gently touch my birthmark, making my cheek tingle. “You’re my best friend, and you’re not getting rid of me that easily just because you slept with my little brotheragain.”
I groan. “Karma, right? Reminding me that he’s thelittlebrother.”
“He’s still twenty-five,” Saylor mumbles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “He hasn’t magically aged five years.”
I close my eyes, letting my head fall back. “I’m the worst.”
“You know, just because he’s good for your hole doesn’t mean he’s good for your soul,” Saylor teases, bringing humor back into the situation.
Out of reflex, I slap him on the chest, but my hand goes right through him, making him shudder. “Gosh, that was fucking creepy. My insides tingled.”
“I’m so sorry.” I pull my hand back to put it over my mouth, but he just chuckles.
