Chapter One #2
The toilet flushes, but the door doesn’t open again. And why the hell isn’t he responding?
I finally get the rest of the soap out of my hair and wipe my eyes. When I open them, I let out an embarrassingly high-pitched scream and nearly slip onto my ass.
Aaron is leaning against the wall at the far end of the shower, holding the curtain open and staring straight at me. God, how drunk is he? He looks like he’s blushing. He looks… pretty.
“Uh, Aaron?”
“Hi, Button.” He smiles—goofy—and his eyes, usually so intense and calculating, are focused on me but glazed over at the same time. “What are you doing?”
I can’t stop the startled laugh that escapes me. “I’m showering, clearly. Are you okay? Did you need to shower or something?”
He shakes his head, and it becomes suddenly clear that he isn’t leaving of his own accord. That melting point inside me turns molten. I feel like I’m burning alive. Luckily the water is hot, or he’d be able to see just how much I’m blushing, too.
Every nerve in my body sparks. My heart beats so hard I can feel it in my throat. In truth, I’m a little scared. I’m not sure what’s happening here—or what’s happening to me.
As his eyes move over me, I realize I have a choice to make. I can call for Felix and hope he hears me. I can get out and try to pull Aaron back to his room myself. Or I can let his drunk ass stand there and finish my shower without interruption.
“Hmm.” I hum, and he still watches me. The air around us feels thick, and I swallow roughly as I realize it isn’t the steam making the room so suffocating.
As I run through my options, I register that I don’t hate the idea of him watching me. It doesn’t bother me. We’re both guys, so why should it? He probably just wants company since he’s drunk.
I grab my designated loofah and the Dove for Men body wash and begin to wash.
Spending as long as I have swimming, I’ve built a decent amount of muscle for my age, but I’ve managed to stay lean rather than bulky like the guys on our football team.
I like being strong but streamlined. It makes cutting through the water easier.
It makes me feel powerful—stronger than bodybuilding ever could.
As I scrub my chest, soap trailing behind each movement, I glance up and find Aaron’s gaze fixed on my hand, his arms crossed tightly as if to keep himself still.
I move my hand to the other side of my stomach, and his eyes follow.
God, maybe this should make me uncomfortable.
But instead, I find it oddly endearing—even a little flattering.
He keeps watching as I finish washing, and I will myself not to react to the attention when his eyes drift lower too. I force my thoughts elsewhere. Dead puppies. Naked grandmas. It works.
While rinsing, I look back at Aaron and see his eyes following a thin line of soap as it runs down my chest, over my stomach, and lower still. Then his gaze snaps up to meet mine. I have no idea what my face must look like for his eyes to narrow the way they do.
I feel pinned beneath that look. Like he’s touching me without laying a hand on me. He licks his lips.
Oh God. Dead puppies. Naked grannies. Come on.
“Button,” he says. That name—the one only he uses. I’ve never heard it sound like that before, like a warning.
“Yes?” My throat feels dry. I just drank water during the movie, didn’t I? What is happening?
The door to Felix’s room opens and closes, and the sound seems to startle Aaron. He blinks a few times, narrows his eyes at me once more, takes one last lingering look, then gives a curt nod and stumbles away.
…What the fuck just happened?
◆◆◆
Felix and I gather our things for a day trip to the river. It’s only about an hour’s drive from Lancaster, the town we live in, but we’re definitely not turning back for sunscreen or a forgotten towel.
I stuff my backpack with extra shorts and other essentials, but my mind is elsewhere. All I can see is the way Aaron’s eyes narrowed. The way he looked at me, like he was trying to memorize what he saw. Surely, I misread him—he was drunk. Or maybe he thought I was someone else entirely.
I’m his brother’s best friend. I’m a year and a half younger. We grew up together. By extension, doesn’t that make us almost like brothers?
But that look. That hunger.
What do I know? I’m a sixteen-year-old virgin. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I just need to stop overthinking everything.
As Felix and I walk downstairs, I ask, “Who’s the hottest girl in our grade?”
“Hm, maybe Kayla? Why? You gonna make a move?” He wiggles his thick eyebrows at me and I snicker, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
“No, no. Just curious.”
He shrugs, and we meet Aaron and Amber in the kitchen.
Amber is packing food and chatting with Tina while Aaron sits at the island with a cold cloth draped over his tilted-back head.
He groans about needing medicine for his headache, and Tina gives him an I told you so look, clearly unsympathetic to the hangovers of her underage children.
We set our things on the kitchen table and the women look up.
“Bear! Fe!” Amber squeals. Aaron jumps slightly in his seat but otherwise doesn’t move, the rag still firmly laid over his eyes.
“Morning, Amber. Tina.” I give them both a lazy smile, one dimple coming to light.
“Oh my God, you’re so cute! I could literally eat you. How old are you again?” Tina laughs and smacks Amber’s shoulder as if to say you’re so funny, but she’s still watching me, clearly waiting for an actual answer. I turn to Fe, who raises his brows. “Sixteen since July,” I say, and she sighs.
“You could make just about anyone risk a case.”
“Amber.”
The room goes quiet for a moment.
Amber recovers quickly, unbothered by Aaron’s warning or his tone. Still, something low in my stomach stirs at the sound of it—the authority in his voice—before I can stop myself from noticing.
“Anyway, Cutie Bear, come help me, please.”
I walk around the island to where she’s standing, and despite being the younger one, my five-foot-eleven frame has me towering over her measly five-six. She looks up at me and pats my head, ruffling my messy blond hair and making it even worse.
“Great. Thanks for that, Amber. Now I definitely don’t look like I just woke up.”
She laughs. “Can you cut up this watermelon and put it in this bowl?”
Nodding, I take the knife from her hand and slice the melon cleanly in half. Behind me, Tina and Amber work on whatever they’re making, while Felix is sent on ice duty for the cooler.
All the while, I can feel his eyes on me. Not the melon—me.
I glance up from under my lashes, trying not to make it obvious that I’m peeking, and our eyes meet.
Yep. I was right. He’s staring holes straight through me.
I can’t quite read his expression—what he’s thinking.
Aaron looks conflicted, hesitant, almost like a wounded animal caught between fight or flight.
So, I lift my head fully and offer him a soft smile, one that I hope says, hey, let’s not be awkward. Don't worry about watching me shower last night, I didn’t mind!
Aaron seems to understand. Slowly, his gaze softens, and a small smile settles on his lips.
I turn back to the watermelon. Crisis averted.
Everyone moves through their assigned tasks, and as I finish cutting the fruit, I count how many days it’s been since I last went home.
It’s hard to keep track sometimes. Greg and Tina stopped asking years ago, and Fe and I spend so much time together that we notice each other’s absence more than our presence.
Counting it out, it’s been eight days. The last time I went, I stayed for fifteen minutes and left again. I should probably stop by today, make sure everything is how I left it. Then I won’t have to bother again for a while, and everything can stay quiet.
My hand twitches.
“Aaron, can we stop by my house on the way out? I need to grab something.”
Aaron nods, taking another bite of the apple he stole from Tina before swallowing. I track the movement before I can stop myself.
“Yeah, of course.”
“What do you need, baby? I’m sure we have it,” Tina says over her shoulder. I smile, scooping more cut melon into the bowl. God, I love this woman.
“Tina, you have anything a boy could ever ask for.” I grin, and she giggles along with Amber. “But unfortunately, this isn’t an everyday household item.”
Felix reappears with the ice, and soon we’re loading up Aaron’s truck. Ten minutes later, we settle in for the drive. I sit in the back with Felix, and before the engine even turns over, his legs are already swung up into my lap.
I sigh and start rubbing at his ankles and calves. He’s a long-distance runner, and the diva thinks presenting me with his chicken legs means I’m obligated to massage them. I mean, I’m amazing, so I will—but that’s not the point.
I look out the window while Felix scrolls on his phone and Aaron and Amber chat up front.
The drive to my house only takes about ten minutes and you can see the neighborhoods grow more worn-down the farther we go.
Felix’s area is a far cry nicer than mine.
Greg and Tina both have degrees and good jobs. Dad has… well. Dad has something.
We pull up and I lean forward.
The paint is chipping. The grass desperately needs mowing.
One of the neighbor kids has left a bike at the end of the sidewalk, and the stained screen door is still stuck open.
A concrete porch with two steps leads to the door, just wide enough for two people to stand side by side.
Two bedrooms. One bathroom. A lifetime of misery.
I just need to make sure he hasn’t taken them—that they’re still there—and then I can leave again.
Unfortunately, things don’t go as planned. Shocker.
Dad’s beat-up Corolla sits in the driveway, my signal to hightail it the fuck out of here.
“Hey, Aaron. Never mind, man. Let’s kick it.” My eyes stay latched to the front door.
“Huh? I thought you needed something specific?”
I open my mouth, then shut it again. I don’t want to lie, but I also don’t want them to know. Not even Felix knows everything—just that things are… odd.
Felix leans forward and spots the car, his hand flying to the back of my neck, kneading the tense muscle there.
“Hey.” His voice is soft, and when I turn to look at him, those green eyes are searching mine.
So kind. So open. My ears ring and the longer we sit here, the more my wrists itch.
I clench my fists, trying to ward off the feeling of tipping forward off the world’s most fucked-up building. “I can get it for you, Bear.”
“No.”
The word comes out too fast, too loud to pass as casual.
Panic crawls up my throat at the thought of him seeing inside, of encountering Dad, of this part of me being laid completely bare.
I don’t really have anything I’m allowed to bring with me anyway.
Has it always been this hot in here? Why can’t I stop the itch?
I scratch at my left wrist where it rests on my thigh, and thankfully, no one notices.
“I think we can just go. It’s really not that important.” A shaky laugh escapes me.
Felix leans forward and rests his forehead against my shoulder. I stare at the house again, catching a shadow moving behind the window.
My heart rate skyrockets.
What if he comes out here?
How would I even explain that?
“Aaron—”
“Right. No biggie.” He pulls away from the curb, his voice light, cutting off my plea as if nothing happened at all.
Something definitely just happened. And everyone knows it.
I take a few slow breaths, and the farther we get from the house, the less I itch.
I glance forward and catch Aaron watching me through the rearview mirror. He’s calculating again. My face heats under his stare—I’m sure he can see it there. The fear. The cowardice. All the things I’ve been hiding.
We shouldn’t have come. There’s no one to blame but me.
I drop my gaze to my hands in my lap, focusing on the warm point where Felix’s skin presses against my exposed shoulder. The muscle tank I’m wearing does nothing to relieve the heat crawling over me.
I feel Aaron’s eyes on me for the rest of the drive.