I set my keys down carefully, trying not to make noise. The apartment felt like a minefield. One wrong move and everything would explode again.
I grabbed a clean shirt from my duffel bag and headed for the bathroom, desperate for a shower. The hot water would help. It always helped.
Except it didn’t. Not anymore.
Standing under the spray, I found my hand drifting down, my mind conjuring images I had no business thinking about. James on his knees. James bent over the couch. James looking up at me with those amber eyes while he…
“Fuck,” I hissed, slamming my palm against the tile. This was insane. I wasn’t gay. I’d never been attracted to a man in my entire life. But here I was, stroking my cock in my stepbrother’s shower while thinking about his mouth.
I forced myself to think about Brittany instead. Her curves, her breasts, the way she used to moan when I?—
Nothing. My cock remained stubbornly interested in the wrong person.
I gave up, washing quickly and getting out before I did something even more pathetic. When I emerged, towel around my waist, James still hadn’t moved from his desk. But I caught his reflection in the darkened window. He was watching me.
Our eyes met in the glass for half a second before he jerked his gaze back to his screen, his fingers frozen over the keyboard.
My heart hammered in my chest. I should say something. Apologize for the other night, clear the air, do literally anything to break this suffocating tension.
Instead, I retreated to the couch and pulled on my clothes, my hands shaking slightly. What the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I just act normal around him?
The music stopped. I heard James pull off his headphones and close his laptop. Every movement sounded amplified in the silence. I kept my eyes fixed on my phone screen, scrolling through nothing, seeing nothing.
“Kent.”
His voice made me flinch. I looked up slowly, reluctantly. James had turned in his chair to face me, his expression carefully neutral.
“Yeah?”
“We need to talk about what happened.”
“No, we don’t.” The words came out too fast, too defensive.
“Yes, we do.” He stood, and I had to force myself not to track the movement of his body. “We can’t keep avoiding each other like this. It’s making everything worse.”
“I’m not avoiding you.”
“You’ve been coming home at nine o’clock every night for the past two days. You won’t look at me. You won’t talk to me.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s avoidance, Kent.”
He was right, of course. But admitting it meant acknowledging why I was avoiding him, and I couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t do that.
“Fine,” I said, sitting up straighter. “What do you want to talk about?”
James hesitated, like he hadn’t expected me to agree so easily. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his confidence wavering.
“The other night,” he started. “When you… when we…” He trailed off, searching for words.
“When I was a dick to you?” I offered. “Yeah, that’s kind of my default setting. Sorry if that’s news to you.”
“Don’t do that.” His jaw tightened. “Don’t deflect. You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”
My stomach twisted. I knew exactly what he was talking about. The way I’d caged him against the door. The way I’d looked at his mouth. The jealousy that had poured out of me like poison when I’d thought about him with someone else.
“It was nothing,” I said, the lie tasting bitter. “I was stressed about work and took it out on you. Won’t happen again.”
“Kent—”
“I said it won’t happen again.” I stood abruptly, needing to move, needing space. “Can we just drop it? Please?”
