And that thought is terrifying. The clang of those internal alarm bells echoes in my skull. She’s everything I told myself I could never have if I wanted to protect my family.
What you could have with Taryn was everything you vowed you’d never let yourself desire.
But as I rest my arm on the pillow behind my head, my eyes scan her soft features beside me. Taryn’s button nose points toward the ceiling, and her eyelashes fan over her rosy cheeks, dusted with freckles. The moonlight shines on the orchardoutside my bedroom, casting long shadows that creep across the grass and through my windows.
My chest aches, as if whatever I’m feeling for her has sunk its sharp claws into my heart and refuses to let go. Taryn is so beautiful and perfect that it hurts.
Perfect for this family.
Perfect for me—though admitting it means risking everything.
Are some things worth annihilating yourself for?
Yes.
But there’s so much at stake. I wouldn’t be the only one facing the consequences if this relationship—well, whatever the fuck we are—turns into a catastrophic event. Two sweet, innocent faces in that house think the world of the girl next to me.
I wish I weren’t wandering aimlessly in my head all the time. Making decisions would be a lot goddamn easier if I didn’t have to contemplate how my actions affect my family.
“You’re staring.” Taryn’s gentle, post-sex, sleep-ridden voice catches me off guard. Her eyes flutter open, whatever force between us pulling them to mine.
“Hmm?”
She shifts to face me, her hair draping over the pillow. “You’ve been staring at me for the last five minutes.”
“Oh— Yeah. I can’t seem to stop.” When did I suddenly decide to respond with full-blown honesty?
Her eyes flit between mine. “If this is making you uncomfortable, I can leave. If you want?”
She begins to sit up, but impulsively, I reach for her. I pull her into my frame, sitting up against the bed frame. “Please stay.”
She pulls up the duvet to cover her stunning breasts, fiddling with the red polish on her nails as her skin slowly melts intomine. I admire the special relationship she shares with Elena, one that is unlike any of ours. They always wear the same color when it’s time to repaint their nails, and whenever I see a new color flash before my eyes—or when Taryn’s fingers wrap around my cock—it’s a reminder that my little sister is falling for her just as hard as I am.
God. We’re all fucking attached.
Taryn drags me back to the present. “You’re not used to this. Are you?”
“What?”
“Women staying.” She says it so innocently—so confidently because she knows exactly how my interactions before her have ended. “Every night I saw you bring a woman in, she would leave a few hours later. But you’re askingmeto stay. Why?”
Her probing question tightens my tendons.It feels different, I want to say, but I don’t. “Because my cock likes your cunt more.”
She glares at my response, the expression releasing something that had been tightly wound inside me for a very long time.
I sigh, not wanting to talk about it but unable to stop myself—which is nothing new since she seems to have that effect on me. “My parents’ marriage wasn’t always a mess. It was the kind of relationship I looked up to. One I knew I wanted someday—until one random month, it shifted into something I didn’t.”
She listens intently, her eyes locked on my face while her fingertips tenderly drift through the hair on my chest.
“My mom’s temperament was the first to change. Sometimes, it was subtle, but when it worsened, she and my dad became increasingly detached, which led him to an alcohol addiction. They fought constantly,” enough that I would shield my siblings from their wrath in my room until two in the morning when it finally stopped, when they were too tired tocontinue. “They were in love, and then they weren’t. When nothing changed, and they were caught in this repetitive cycle of arguing and resenting each other for years, my father chased her down and ultimately brought it to an end.”
Her fingers still on my pec. “What do you mean ‘chased her down’?”
“My mother, Jane, tried to leave the night before she disappeared when one fight escalated,” I sigh. “He followed. He returned. She didn’t. It’s painfully fucking simple to put the pieces together, especially after—” The words disintegrate on my tongue.
I’m not looking at her, but I know her chest rises and falls weightily by how her skin lightly rubs against mine. “And that’s what you believe? That she ran, and he—murdered her.”
My tone raises an octave, becoming defensive. “It’s what I know, Taryn. There’s nothing to believe if I saw it happen.” I’m not screaming at her, but I can’t stop the hurt from blending with my voice.
