How would that even work? Finding a man willing to… I don’t know, have sex with me? With a woman, it’s easy… bars, apps, mutual friends. But a man? That feels like an entirely different world. I shake the thought away almost violently.You’re not seriously considering this, I tell myself.Stop.
The elevator dings. I walk down the quiet hallway, unlock my door with a sigh, and step inside.
I’m heading toward the living room when Cade steps out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a short white towel slung low around his hips. Water droplets cling to his shoulders and chest, tracing the sharp lines of muscle down to the deep, prominent V that disappears beneath the towel. His dark hair is wet, dripping down his face and onto his collarbones.
A startled yelp escapes me. “Ah, fuck!”
I spin around so fast I nearly lose my balance, heart slamming against my ribs.
Cade lets out a low laugh behind me. “Good morning to you too. Am I that repulsive, brother?”
I blink. That might be the longest sentence I’ve ever heard come out of Cade’s mouth. I wonder if he’s in an unusually good mood for some reason.
Before I can respond, his damp body brushes against my back as he reaches past me toward one of the moving boxes stacked by the door. I jolt away like I’ve been burned, pulse spiking.
Cade laughs again, clearly amused by my reaction. He flips open the lid of the box and gestures inside with a casual tilt of his head. “Clothes.”
Simple as that.
I nod stiffly, eyes fixed anywhere but on his wet, half-naked body. “Hurry up.”
He stands there holding a fresh outfit, frowning as he searches my face. “Why?”
My gaze keeps darting away from his bare chest, the way water still trickles down his skin. “Because I don’t want a naked man in my house.”
Cade stares at me for a beat, then lets out a deep, rolling laugh that vibrates through the open space. He turns and heads back toward the bathroom, still chuckling.
I drag both hands down my face, groaning inwardly.For fuck’s sake, Dr. Hart. Why did you have to plant that idea?Now I’m scared to even look at Cade. I’ve seen men in towels before… at the gym, after swimming, whatever; it’sneverbeen an issue. But with this new suggestion hanging over me like a neon sign, I feel like I’m dissecting every glance and every reaction. Overthinking everything. Who wouldn’t? If Dr. Hart is right, this is one hell of a life-altering realization to drop on someone at thirty-five.
I’ve never looked at a man before and had inappropriate thoughts. And the first man I look at like that absolutely shouldnotbe my stepbrother. But fuck… it’s too late now.
I drop onto the sectional and hope Cade has somewhere to be today.
Chapter Five
Cade
It’s been an odd day, in more ways than one.
Neither of us had anywhere to be, except for whatever mysterious errand pulled Rowan out of the apartment at the crack of dawn. So, we’ve been stuck here together, just the two of us, for the first time in… ever, really. No parents playing referee, no obligatory family dinners, no excuses to disappear into separate rooms. Just hours of shared space, and I’m surprised to find myself quietly fascinated by the man my stepbrother has become.
We started the morning with a game show playing on the TV while Rowan moved around the kitchen making breakfast. When I asked if I could have some too, he just shrugged and muttered “sure” without quite meeting my eyes. I’d been braced for more resistance, but he didn’t fight it. We ended up shouting answers at the screen… me barking out the correct one in a flat voice, him hurling creative insults at the “dumb bastard” who got it wrong. I caught myself grinning the whole time; it felt… natural, and… weirdly easy. Maybe the tension between us was mostly manufactured by forced family gatherings and years of keeping our distance.
Later, I came back from the bathroom and dropped onto the couch without thinking. I ended up sitting closer to him than intended, simply because it gave the best view of the TV. Rowan immediately shifted away, putting deliberate space between us. I frowned, then laughed under my breath, wondering why he couldn’t stand being that close. The memory of this morning flashed through my mind… the way he yelped and spun around the second he saw me in nothing but a towel, the way he jolted when my wet skin brushed his back. He’d never reacted like that before. When we were teenagers, I used to walk around shirtless all summer without him batting an eye. So why the sudden discomfort now?
…
Now it’s evening. I’m leaning against the kitchen island with a cold glass of water in my hand, waiting for the takeout I insisted on ordering.
Rowan’s been off ever since he got back this morning… fidgety, tense, and avoiding eye contact more than usual. I want to ask where he went, what put that distant look in his eyes, but I decide to leave it alone for today. He’s finally starting to settle, the nervous energy easing a little.
He must feel me watching him because he glances over from the living room, brows pulling together. “What?”
I tilt my head slightly, noticing the faint redness creeping up the side of his neck.Interesting. I don’t answer. Just take another slow sip of water, eyes still on him.
Rowan clears his throat and looks back toward the TV, shifting uncomfortably. “Stop staring at me, you weirdo.”
A huff of amusement escapes me. I glance down at my phone instead, tracking the delivery driver’s progress on the map. The little car icon inches closer to our building.
