Chapter 7
Seven
C ooper
I’m half asleep when Sybil’s hand runs down my chest, feather-light fingers drawing goosebumps across my bare skin.
I must be dreaming. I’ve been having a lot of dreams about her lately—a byproduct of forced proximity. Maybe. Or maybe it’s because I always dream of that woman.
Open your eyes. Wake up.
But I don’t want to. It’s too good. I want to stay in this dream forever, with her hands on me, her intoxicating honey and sunshine scent everywhere.
She writhes against me in only a bra and panties, breathing softly into my neck, then hitches her long slender leg over my hips. My cock instantly thickens in my briefs.
The dream intensifies as I slide my hands under the cotton of her panties, greedy fingers gripping her bare ass.
She’s so round, so warm and perfect, and groping her ass sends a shockwave of desire through us both.
She slides up on me, and her knees fall open as she rides my cock through our flimsy nightclothes.
She’s a goddess. In a few seconds, I’ll be slipping our underwear out of the way so she can mount me for real. In a few seconds, I’ll find her hungry mouth and kiss her with everything I’ve got, swallowing her breath like it’s a special kind of oxygen made just for me.
In one long deft motion, she rubs her heat up and down my erection, and even with the fabric between us, the feeling explodes into pure fire, jolting me awake.
“Ethan,” she moans softly, pressing harder against me, ready for more.
Oh.
Oh no.
No…
She’s not supposed to be real—a figment of my imagination and nothing more.
But she’s very, very real and very much on top of me in the darkness, practically seconds away from fucking me.
Hers is the kind of warmth that burrows into my soul and heats a man from the inside out.
A heat that is somehow both electric and calming.
A heat that shouldn’t be here. That I can’t have. Ever.
My entire body stills.
She murmurs Ethan’s name again, her mouth searching for mine.
No, not mine. My brother’s.
I jerk my head to the side and search the room, vision adjusting. It crashes down on me as I realize what the hell is going on.
We all went out to celebrate the end of our first year, and everyone had too much to drink. Sybil crawled into the extra-long twin with my brother, and the three of us passed out hours ago.
Sybil must have gotten up to go to the bathroom, and in her haze, found herself in my bed instead of my brother’s.
Through a thin layer of panties, I can feel how wet and ready she is. She’s rubbing herself on me in tantalizing circles, half drunk and mostly asleep, but her body is wanting and ready…
For him .
The alcohol lingers on her breath.
This cannot happen.
Gently, I lift her off me, scooting so I’m against the wall and she’s next to me.
There are only a few inches of space between us, but that’s enough for her body to settle and her breathing to relax.
A few minutes later, I’m sure she’s asleep.
She can’t stay here. If I fall asleep with her in my bed, this exact scenario might repeat itself. It can’t.
I inch the blankets away and maneuver over her without touching her. It’s a good thing I’ve been in the gym a lot this year; a weaker version of myself would’ve definitely woken her. The bed barely sleeps one grown man comfortably, let alone a grown woman as well.
I land on the floor with a soft thud and freeze, making sure the noise didn’t wake anyone. Ethan is totally out of it. Sybil stirs for a moment, then falls still. My body buzzes from the shock. My cock is still hard as a rock, and I have half a mind to text one of my friends-with-benefits.
Instead, I count to sixty, then I ease Sybil into my arms.
“Cooper? Is that you?” she asks, her voice sweet and sleepy as she curls into me. She feels so good, and for the millionth time, I hate myself for wanting the woman who belongs to my brother.
“Just putting you to bed, Valentine,” I whisper, gently laying her next to Ethan and hating how good they look together.
She rolls toward him, and they tangle limbs automatically, like they’ve been doing this for years. A few seconds later, they’re asleep. Their bodies know each other. They’re comfortable. Happy together.
I’m the intruder.
“Fuck my life,” I whisper, regret thick and cock still pulsing. Having her on top of me like that, her body ready? It might have been the most alive I’ve ever felt. I’m wracked with so many emotions—jealousy and guilt and longing, but most of all, self-loathing.
This is too hard. I don’t know how to not want her.
The only things that have helped are sleeping around and booze. I know that’s hardly healthy, but it’s my only reprieve, even if it’s a temporary one. Because wherever I go, there she is, corroding my walls, finding a way to make herself known.
I even talked to my dad about transferring during the holiday break, but I couldn’t give him the real reason.
Told him I thought it would be good for me to switch to a different Ivy and gain some independence.
He didn’t go for it. Dad’s crimson through and through. In his mind, it’s Harvard or bust.
I return to bed and try to sleep, but eventually morning comes. The couple next to me wake up, unaware of what happened. I eye Sybil, but she seems to have no recollection of crawling into my bed and grinding on me.
“Do you know what you did last night?” I ask over breakfast, my tone teasing as I’m inwardly chastising myself for being an idiot.
But I must know if she remembers.
She plops a purple grape into her mouth, lips scrunching around it as she contemplates and swallows. “I mean, we drank too much, but I don’t remember a lot after we left the party. I assume we all crashed?”
Ethan rubs at his temples, clearing a hangover. I’m nursing one, too—a Sybil hangover.
“Just tell us,” Ethan says.
Sybil gazes between us curiously, her eyes rounding as she drums a restless rhythm against the cafeteria table. “Yeah, what happened?”
“Whelp, you got up in the night to use the bathroom, but when you came back, you climbed into bed with me.” I waggle my eyebrows. Like this is all hilarious.
They both stare, Sybil with her mouth open and heat blooming across her cheeks and into her hairline. A muscle ticks in Ethan’s jaw.
Trying to make this lighter, I wink. “I always knew you wanted me.”
The silence about kills me, but Ethan finally rolls his eyes, and Sybil shakes her head, an expression of genuine confusion marking her face. “I’m so sorry. Shit, did I?” Her voice trails off as she wracks her brain.
“Didn’t know you thought of me like that, Valentine. Not that I blame you. Sorry to say, Ethan and I don’t share.” I lean back, folding my arms across my chest. “Isn’t that right, brother?”
Stupid. Stupid. What is wrong with me?
Ethan’s posture is ridged, and I know I’ve gone too far now. My brother values loyalty above all else. He’s a lot like our father in that way, and I’m pissing him off.
I’m laughing and putting on a show, even though my insides have been filleted wide open. Of course Ethan’s mad, and of course Sybil doesn’t remember. She was a lot more inebriated than she usually gets, and I was wide awake. She clearly thought I was Ethan when she crawled on top of me.
I’m the one making this awkward, not them.
“Don’t worry. Nothing happened,” I assure her, though something kind of did. “I moved you to Ethan’s bed, though your subconscious clearly wanted to be in mine.”
Why am I still joking about this?
I need to stop, but I feel like I’m losing control, like I’m a runaway train and can’t stop myself from destroying everything in my path.
“Shut the fuck up,” Ethan growls, and I go still, letting his anger snap me out of it.
That’s fair. I would be a bull if she was my girl, and someone talked to her like this.
“God, I can’t believe I did that. I’m so sorry.” She’s apologizing to the both of us, and still that pretty shade of pink, which only makes her green eyes that much more beautiful.
I give my brother a cheeky smile, needing nothing more than to make light of this before I dig a hole I can’t get out of. “Need to keep your girl more satisfied, so she doesn’t crawl into my bed again, alright Ethan? Don’t blame me.”
Ridiculous. She moaned his name, not mine.
He finally relaxes, throwing his napkin in my face. “Get your own girl, Cooper. This one’s mine.”
Don’t I know it.
“Speaking of which…” I open my text messages, scrolling through the girls I’ve met this year who are up for noncommittal hookups. After this disastrous conversation, I definitely need to bury myself in another woman and fast.
Ten minutes later, we’re walking Sybil to her dorm, I’ve got a date lined up for tonight before we head home tomorrow, and they’re acting like the conversation at the dining hall didn’t even happen.
Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe to them, Sybil choosing my bed last night means nothing.
But I can’t help but wish that none of it had been an accident and that maybe, somewhere deep down, Sybil wants me as much as I want her.