“You could’ve just told me that from the start,” I said.
“Yeah, well.” He finally looked up, and there was something raw in his expression that I wasn’t used to seeing. “Would you have said yes if I did?”
Probably not. Almost definitely not. But standing here now, looking at him, this strange version of Kent who actually seemed capable of shame, I wasn’t sure anymore.
“I need you to be honest with me from now on,” I said. “About everything. No more lies about cleaning up or being quiet or how long you’re staying. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it for real.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah. I can do that.”
“And you need to contribute. I can’t afford to feed both of us on my budget, especially if I just lost that brewery job.”
“How much do you need?”
I did the math quickly in my head. “Three hundred a month should cover groceries and utilities. And you clean up after yourself. No exceptions.”
“Deal.” He stuck out his hand, and I stared at it for a moment before shaking it. His grip was firm, his palm rough with calluses. When our skin touched, something electric shot up my arm, and I pulled away faster than I meant to.
Kent’s eyes flickered with something I couldn’t read before he turned back to the sink, finishing the dishes in silence. I retreated to my desk, opening my laptop even though I had no desire to look at the failed brewery design again.
But I couldn’t focus. My mind kept circling back to the moment I’d dropped my towel, to the way Kent had stared at melike he’d never seen another person’s body before. The look in his eyes hadn’t been disgust, not entirely. It had been something else. Something hungry and confused and quickly masked.
I’d seen that look before. On other men. Men in bars, men on dating apps, men in darkened apartments who wanted me but couldn’t quite admit it to themselves.
No. I was reading too much into it. Kent was straight. Aggressively, performatively straight. The kind of guy who made gay jokes to prove how not-gay he was. Whatever I’d seen in his expression was probably just shock at having his stepbrother flash him.
Still, I couldn’t shake the memory of his eyes tracking down my body, lingering on my abs, my thighs, before settling somewhere I definitely didn’t imagine.
My phone buzzed, pulling me from my thoughts. It was a welcome distraction.
Chapter 5
Kent
Three days had passed since I’d agreed to play by James’s rules. And already I was regretting it.
Every morning, he slept in until at least nine, meaning I had to sit on the couch and scroll on my phone for nearly two hours until he woke up. After that it was a lazy, long-winded shower and some fifteen-minute-long skincare routine that made absolutely zero sense to me. Then, for some un-fucking-believable reason, he did yoga.
That was the part of the morning I hated the most. The instructor’s voice on the video was too soft, too lilting, and too…something. It was pretentious and stupid and full of bullshit like “Breathe out to let go of the energy you’re holding today”. What the fuck?
Not that it stopped me from stealing glances his way. James, to my surprise, was incredibly flexible. He could fold his chest flat against his thighs, he could do a handstand, and a full side-split that made my balls ache just watching him. It was actually pretty impressive, not that I’d tell him that. I’d already had my moment of weakness admitting the problems between me and Brittany. I wasn’t about to start complimenting him too.
After that it was some weird green smoothie for breakfast. No bacon, no eggs, and no potatoes. I declined his attempts to get me to drink the smoothies. I wasn’t looking to spend the next two hours on the toilet putting that garbage in my body. I needed meat and grease. But he said that was only for weekends. What a weirdo.
So yeah, everything the guy did was annoying. I could understand why he seemed to be perpetually single, not that I’d ever bothered to call and ask how his life was going. And now that I was living with him, I was too afraid to ask. I didn’t want to hear about that gay shit, anyway. And just the thought of him being with some guy… it made my stomach turn in a strange way. There was disgust, yes, but also something else. Something more…intense.
I pushed the thought away, focusing instead on my phone as James finished his smoothie and washed his dishes immediately. I found myself watching the clock on the wall, counting down the minutes until he’d be done and I could have some peace.
When he finally finished, he stepped out into the living room and plopped down on the edge of his bed. His shirt clung to his back, still damp with sweat, and I forced myself to look away.
“You heading out today?” he asked, pulling out his phone to check his messages.
“Yeah. Got a site inspection at eleven.” I stood from the couch, stretching. My back was killing me from sleeping on that piece of shit every night. “Should be back around six.”
“Okay.” He tapped away at the screen. “Can you pick up some groceries on your way back? We’re running low on a few things.”
There it was. The casual request that felt more like a demand. Like I was his errand boy.
“What do you need?” I asked, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.
