“Just curious.” I kept my voice casual. “What are they like?”
“They?” James turned around, and there was something knowing in his expression that made my skin prickle. “It’s a woman, actually. Mid-thirties. Married with two kids.”
Relief flooded through me, sharp and immediate, and I hated myself for it.
“Cool,” I said, because what else was there to say?
James watched me for another moment before turning back to the groceries. “You want to order dinner tonight? My treat, since you picked up the groceries.”
“Yeah. Sure.” I grabbed a soda from the case I’d bought and cracked it open. “Whatever you want.”
“Thai food okay?”
“Fine by me.”
He pulled out his phone to order, and I retreated to the couch, taking a long pull from my soda. The apartment felt smaller tonight, the walls pressing in. Or maybe it was justJames’s presence, taking up more space than his physical body should.
I watched him as he scrolled through the menu, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in concentration. He’d changed since I’d left this morning. He had on a different shirt, and his hair was still damp from what must have been another shower. He looked good. Cute, actually.
The thought crashed into me before I could stop it, and I took another drink, trying to drown it. First off, I wasn’t into guys. And secondly, he was my stepbrother. Whatever strange thoughts I was having must’ve been some symptom of stress or burnout or some other shrink bullshit. My head just wasn’t working right because my life had been turned upside down. That was all.
And this was temporary anyway. All of it. In a few weeks, I’d be gone, back to my own life, and James would just be a memory again. A blip. Nothing more.
But as he settled onto the opposite end of the couch, close enough that I could smell his shampoo, I wasn’t sure I believed it.
Chapter 6
James
I’d been staring at my computer screen for nearly three hours. And so far, I’d come up with damn near nothing. I promised my new client some sketches by the end of the week, and I had only half an idea so far. Tossing my pen down, I leaned back in my chair, grinding my palms against my eyes.
Ever since Kent arrived, I’d felt considerably less creative. Maybe it was just the fact that I didn’t have a private space anymore or maybe it was his perpetually bad attitude that seemed to fill the room every time he came home. But no matter how much I tried to work, there was always something to distract me and it was beginning to drive me insane. If I didn’t get work done, I wouldn’t be able to pay rent. That wasnotan option.
My phone buzzed against the desk and I welcomed the distraction. I swiped the screen open and saw another message from the downstairs neighbor I’d hooked up with a few days before.
Him: Got a free night. Want to hang out again?
The idea was tempting and I couldn’t deny the twitch in my sweatpants. My cock had been pretty much neglected since Kent moved in. Jerking off with him so close felt…strange,I guess?As teenagers we had separate rooms. But now we were sharing a studio apartment that meant he was within earshot at all times. He was gone during the day, but I’d been too stressed about work to break out my dildo under the bed.
But the neighbor had a decent cock, and he wasn’t a bad fuck. He didn’t do anything that blew my mind, but that was fine. I didn’t need perfection, just a way to take the edge off.
Me: Sure. That sounds fun.
Him: Cool. I got condoms, so we’re good.
Me: I’ll be down in twenty minutes.
So romantic. I rolled my eyes, dropping my phone back to the desk. Hookups were fine when I needed them, but having a boyfriend sounded better. Coming home to someone that smiled when they saw me, asked me how my day was, or actually gave a shit about my life and happiness would be nice. But who had time for dating when the rent kept going up every six months?
I glanced up at the clock. Kent was due home any minute. But he had a spare key now, so it’s not like I had to wait around for him. Not to mention, there was trash laying on the floor by the couch and dishes in the sink that belonged to him. He’d been getting a bit lazy about that recently. But it at least gave him something to do while I was out.
But he’d probably ask questions. He’d been a bit nosy since my meeting with my new client. Not that I owed him an explanation for where I went or what I did, but the thought of him asking questions made my skin crawl. After the amount of bullying I’d been through because of his distaste for my sexuality, I really didn’t want to invite more harassment.
I stood from my desk and stretched, my spine popping in three places. My body was stiff from sitting hunched over my laptop all afternoon. Maybe sex with the neighbor would help loosen me up, get my creative juices flowing again. That’s what I told myself, anyway.
I changed into jeans and a clean shirt, checked my hair in the bathroom mirror, and grabbed my keys. As I reached for the door handle, I hesitated. Should I text Kent? Let him know I’d be out?
No. That was ridiculous. I didn’t need his permission to leave my own apartment.
