5. Tobias
Chapter 5
Tobias
I 'm zoning out to whatever Netflix is throwing at me when the front door announces Amelia's arrival—first with a click, then with a crash.
Throwing my blanket off me, I push off the bed and head to the hallway. As I round the corner, I see Amelia crouched on the floor, her hair spilling around her face as she reaches for a fallen picture frame. Her shoes are dangling from one hand, black fuck-me heels that she must have kicked off the moment she stepped through the door, and I watch as she attempts to place the picture frame back down on the side table.
"What are you doing?" Amelia jumps, whirling around like she's sixteen again, and I've just caught her sneaking in past curfew.
"Jesus, Tobias." My name comes out breathless, caught somewhere between a curse and a laugh. "You scared the hell out of me."
I take a step closer, tilting my head as I take her in—her flushed cheeks, her mussed hair, and the slight sway in her stance that tells me everything I need to know.
"Are you drunk?" The laugh bubbles up before I can stop it, probably because she's so fucking adorable when she's trying to act sober. "It's not even eleven o'clock."
She narrows her eyes at me, but I catch a glimmer of amusement there. "Well, I started early."
She breezes past me, heading to her bedroom, and I watch as she tosses her heels inside before she spins back toward me.
I lean against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest as my gaze follows her every move, probably looking like the overprotective asshole I'm about to be.
"How did you get home?"
"Uber."
She has to be fucking with me.
"You're kidding, right?"
"No, and if you're worried, don't be,"she says, waving her hand like it's no big deal. "The driver was nice, and we ended up talking about Eminem the whole way home."
I pinch the bridge of my nose, counting to five because ten would take too damn long. "In the future, you call me, okay? I don't care if it's ass o'clock in the morning—I'd rather drag myself out of bed than have you do that again."
"How verybig brotherof you."She laughs and shakes her head, but all it does is grate on my shit because she isn't taking me seriously.
"Come on, don't be a dick. You know I'll come and get you."
"I know. But I'm more than capable of looking after myself."
"Hey, look at me, Mills."I wait until those dark eyes find mine, watching them struggle to focus through the alcohol haze. "I'm not trying to be like Kayla. I'm not here to control your life, but I don't want you to be that hot, wasted girl who thought she was safe and it wouldn't happen to her until it did."
She bursts out laughing. "You did not just say hot."
I drag a hand through my hair, fighting the urge to lose my shit. "Seriously? That's what you took from what I just said?"
She's laughing so hard she's doubled over, and I force myself to wait it out, my hands twitching with the need to shake some sense into her. When she finally looks up, the laughter fades, and her expression shifts the moment she notices the seriousness etched across my face.
"You're right. I'm sorry. I just wanted to get home, but next time, I'll call you first."
The space between us vanishes as I close the distance, my lips grazing her hair in a soft kiss on the top of her head before I turn toward the kitchen.
"How was it anyway? You were meeting people from the company, right?" I ask, leaning against the counter.
"Yeah." She brushes past me and opens a cabinet, pulling out a glass.
"Did it go okay?"
"They were nice. Some were nicer than others, but I had fun."
"That's good. It'll be nice for you to make some friends."
Her fingers go still on the cabinet handle. "Well, it's not like you've helped me in that situation."
"What do you mean?"
"I've met one of your friends.Once. Other than that, I've been alone, or I've been with you." She raises her arm, flicking her hand toward me like it isn't obvious who she's calling out.
Her eyes fix on my bare chest for a second before she shakes it off and turns around, marching her ass toward the couch.
"I don't expect your friends to be my friends, but it would've been nice if you'd introduced me to the people you hang out with so I didn't feel completely isolated here."
Her words hit me hard, and guilt settles in my stomach. I hadn't even thought about it like that, and now I feel like a complete dick.
"I'm sorry, Mills. I didn't think."
She assures me, "It's fine," but I refuse to fall into the trap. We all know fine is code for "I'm two seconds away from fucking you up, and it won't be the fun kind."
"Tell you what," I say, moving closer to her. "Why don't I arrange something so my friends can all meet you properly?"
She raises a brow, clearly unimpressed with me. "You're doing that out of pity, and it makes me feel lame as shit."
I can't help the laugh that bursts out of me. "Baby, you are lame." Her eyes narrow, but I keep going. "But they're gonna love you anyway. They've been riding my ass about meeting you. I just thought…" I trail off, running a hand through my hair. "I don't know what I thought … Maybe you had a lot going on."
"Yeah, I'm swamped with absolutely fuck all," she bites out, staring at me like she's ready to slap me.
"I'll ask them to do something, but I'm warning you, they'll fuss over you like you're some shiny new toy."
That smile hits different.
It lights up her whole face.
Worth it.
"I can't wait to trade stories with them."
"Are you threatening me, Firefly? Because I have a lot on you too." I smirk down at her, throwing an arm around the back of the couch behind her.
She holds up her pinkie, and fuck me if it isn't the cutest thing I've seen all day. "No secret-spilling. Deal?"
I hook my pinkie with hers, and something warm spreads through my chest. "Deal. Now get your drunk ass to bed. I don't want you breaking anything else tonight because I'm not in the mood to clean up after you."
I push to my feet, reaching down to help her up. She takes my hand, but as she rises, she stumbles forward, crashing straight into my chest. Her fingers dig into my shoulders to steady herself, and Jesus—those nails pressing into my skin send my mind straight to hell, imagining nails dragging down my back, and no—absolutely fucking not.
I instinctively reach out and grip her waist to keep her upright. "Whoa, you good?" I ask, my voice sounding a little more hoarse than I intended.
She keeps her face down, that curtain of dark hair hiding whatever expression she's wearing, but I hear the giggle. I feel it vibrate through her body where she's pressed against me before she gently pushes me away.
"See you tomorrow, Tobias."
"Night, Mills," I reply, my hands slipping into my pockets as I watch her walk to her bedroom. Her door clicks shut, and I head back to my room, trying to shake off whatever the hell that was.
I collapse onto my bed, remote in one hand while the other cradles my head, trying to focus on Netflix's endless scroll of shit I won't watch. But I can't focus on anything. I'm agitated right now—my mind is restless, and my whole body's coiled tight. My dick has been semi-hard for what feels like forever, and even the briefest touch from Amelia made me twitch.
She's a beautiful girl. Always has been. But she's my friend, my pain-in-the-ass stepsister, and my roommate, and even though we're close, it's not like that between us.We don't blur those lines—not now, not ever.
Still, it's been way too long since I've been with anyone, and the feel of those delicate hands on my shoulders is enough to remind me just how on edge I am.
I place the remote down next to me, running a hand over the bulge in my sweatpants, hoping this hard-on will fuck right off.
I need to get laid.
I grab my phone from the nightstand and begin scrolling through my contacts.
There are a lot of names—women I know, women I've slept with. I'm not going to pretend I didn't screw my way through college because I did, and I don't regret a second of it.
I love women, and I love sex.
It is what it is.
I stop scrolling when I hit Roxy Chambers's name. She's fun, uncomplicated, and exactly what I need right now. No drama, no expectations, and no strings. Without letting myself overthink it, I shoot her a message.
TOBIAS
Drinks tomorrow night?
ROXY
You paying?
TOBIAS
Don't I always?
ROXY
I've got to work early on Saturday, so you can't stay. But I'm happy to skip drinks and cut to the reason you're really texting me.
TOBIAS
Maybe I don't want that. Maybe I'd like to have a drink and a conversation.
ROXY
Bullshit. Come over at 8.
TOBIAS
See you tomorrow.
I set my phone down on the nightstand, dragging both hands through my hair as I lean back against the headboard. Roxy's nice. She's not someone I hate spending time with—she's a friend with benefits, and we both know what we're getting out of it. There are no messy emotions, no awkward expectations, just mutual fun.
I look down at the obvious problem in my sweatpants, and there's no way this is going away on its own—not tonight. A rough sigh escapes me as I palm myself, trying to ease the ache, but I'm wound too tight. My head falls back, and my eyes close as my hand slips beneath the waistband, finally letting myself go.