Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
THEA
The air crackles between us as I look up at him, the heat of his body suddenly scorching where my palm rests.
The sun has started to set outside, the sky captured in the form of a fuchsia painting.
His breath catches, eyes darkening as they drink me in before they settle on my lips that are parted just so.
The atmosphere between us feels like electricity and I see it—his hesitation, despite the way he’s only a breath away from closing the distance between us.
My mind is screaming at me to step back but my stupid heart won’t get the memo.
It’s thudding so hard I’m sure he can hear it, but I can’t pull away.
Because the reality is, I don’t want to.
His hand comes up, hovering by my cheek, his eyes searching my own for… what? Permission?
For a brief, yet insane moment, I’m convinced that he’s going to fuse our lips together.
But just as quickly, the moment is ruined as Claire walks into the kitchen.
We quickly separate and I take several generous steps backward, acting like we’ve been caught by our parents.
His hand falls awkwardly to his side as he clears his throat.
Claire pauses to look between the two of us before she mutters something underneath her breath and walks back to her room.
Yeah, she definitely didn’t fall for that.
Cheeks burning, I stumble over my words.
“I’m just gonna…” I point past him to the hallway.
He rubs the back of his neck, tucking his other hand into the pocket of his pants. “Yeah, me too.”
We both walk toward the hallway, bumping into each other, and I step out of the way to let him go first at the same time he does.
“Thanks,” I mumble as I rush ahead of him and close myself in my room.
Groaning, I throw myself face first into my mattress.
I lay there, letting the coolness of my sheets settle against my heated skin, trying to process what almost happened.
It’s for the best right? That Claire interrupted us?
Nothing good could come from us making that decision when we’re both feeling lonely.
That’s all that it was…right? Who am I kidding, I may be able to lie to him but I can’t lie to myself.
Rolling to my back, I bite my lip, mentally lashing myself once again for the way my body reacted—how I reacted.
I never freeze, so why did I? I could tell myself it was because I was scared, but the reality is that I wanted it.
I wanted him. And the last thing I should want is to subject myself to being able to be hurt again.
But the fucker is like a magnet. Every time I’m in his gravitational space, he pulls me in.
Claire’s music filters down the hall from her room, up loud enough I’m surprised she isn’t deaf.
At least it’s music I can get down to and none of the bullshit I would expect girls her age to listen to.
An hour goes by, and my mind keeps warring with itself before I finally give up, deciding to take a much needed cold shower because the heat hasn’t subsided in my body.
I walk across the hall to the bathroom I now share with Claire and shut the door, turning the faucet to the shower on before stripping off my clothes, leaving them in the hamper.
Testing the temperature with my hand, because I don’t want it to be too cold, I step under the stream and let it batter me as I hang my head.
Something changed between us tonight, under the weight of his confession, and I can no longer bring myself to reject it. Reject him.
The truth is, Nathan is the guy I always thought I would end up with.
He was the guy that I fantasized about when I was too young to be thinking of anyone that way, let alone my brother’s best friend.
But it’s different now. I can’t just pretend it’s nothing.
Can’t just act like it’s a stupid crush that should’ve faded with time and space, because it hasn’t.
It’s always been there, lingering under the surface.
It would’ve been impossible to get rid of the feeling fully, not with our history.
The water runs over me as I tilt my head back, soaking my hair and doing nothing still to dissipate the fire that is consuming my body, and I acknowledge it for what it is.
Unrelenting need. Closing my eyes, I imagine the way his eyes looked at me earlier—something more than just the old and familiar friendship.
My hand absentmindedly traces its way down my body until my finger finds my clit.
I jerk at the contact, unsure if it’s because it’s been ages since I’ve come, or the temperature of the water.
Moaning, I bite down on my lip as I work myself in little circles, picturing Nathan’s hands touching me instead.
In a matter of seconds I work myself into such a frenzy that I nearly lose my footing, knocking some of the bottles on the shelf to the floor before I catch myself against the wall.
But I still don’t stop, because moments later my orgasm is cresting and I cry out before I silence myself, remembering I’m not alone in the house.
My legs shake in the aftermath before I hear a knock on the other side of the door.
“Thea? You okay?” His voice comes from the hallway.
“Y-yeah.” My voice is shaky as I respond. “Just knocked some bottles off the shelf.”
There’s a pause before he responds. “Okay, I was just making sure you didn’t fall.”
Taking a deep breath, I go through the familiar motions of washing my hair and my body before deciding to turn this into an everything shower.
Might as well take advantage of relaxing myself fully.
Twenty minutes later my legs are smooth and the landing strip of hair that sits on my pubic bone is trimmed.
Reaching for my towel, I wrap it around my body and secure it at my chest before wiping away the steam on the mirror to look at myself.
I’m the same and yet I’m not who I was. I’ve lost weight in my grief, my cheekbones more prominent.
My eyes are dull, no longer the rich brown they once were when I was a different girl, a happier girl.
My hair is longer, hanging in loose, damp curls as water drips down my back.
I wonder if anyone else notices it or if I only do because there’s something about the silence after a shower that brings things farther into focus.
I reach for the lotion on the counter and sit down on the seat of the toilet to moisturize my legs before blindly reaching for my clothes.
My clothes that aren’t on the counter where I always set them.
Because I forgot them in my room. Fuck. Taking a deep breath I stand up and walk to the door, hoping that Nathan is no longer in the hallway so I can make a quick break to my room.
I open the door and make a dash for my room, not paying attention to anything but my destination.
I almost don’t see him until the last second when I run smack dab into a chest. A very shirtless chest. Because of course it was too much to hope that he wouldn’t show up at the most inconvenient time.
His hands are firm on my waist, steadying me, and I grip my towel tighter as I look up at him.
He’s frozen, eyes locked on me, but I don’t miss the way his nostrils flare and his pupils dilate as he takes in my wet form, naked beneath my towel.
It would be so easy to let him pull it from my body.
Jesus,” he mutters under his breath as he lets go of my waist and rubs a hand down his face. It’s almost like he came to the same conclusion. My stomach flips and still neither of us move.
“I—” I can’t find the right words. My throat is suddenly dry and the tension I thought I had rid myself of in the shower is suddenly back with a vengeance, causing me to be aware of every inch of my skin.
He takes a step closer to me and I instinctively turn, backing up until my body is against my door. The pull between us is impossible to ignore, the air so heavy it’s almost tangible. “What are we doing, Thea?” His voice is gravelly, like his throat had gone just as dry as my own.
I swallow hard, unsure of what to say, if there’s anything to say at all.
“I-I…” The words die on my lips when the hand that hovered by my face earlier today finally makes contact with my skin.
He trails it along the nape of my neck before wrapping his fist through my wet strands, pulling my head back to look up at him. Has he always been so tall?
“Thea,” he whispers, softly this time. My grip on my towel has turned iron-tight, but the rest of me has completely unraveled under the weight of his stare.
I should say something, push him away, but he has me hypnotized.
Rooted to the spot. And when his other hand trails along my collarbone, slow and deliberate, I’m jelly in his hands.
“Nathan,” I say; his name is a mixture of a sigh and moan on my lips. His chest rises and falls, his jaw tight, and I didn’t think it was possible for his pupils to dilate more than they already have but they’re blown completely wide.
His throat bobs as he swallows and his nostrils flare one more time before— “Fuck it.”
His lips crash against mine, and I barely have time to react before heat engulfs me as his body presses into mine, leaving me no room to escape between him and the door.
There’s zero hesitation as I part my lips when his tongue traces the seam of them, inviting him in.
And there is nothing patient about the way he kisses me.
It’s raw and unrelenting. My fingers left my towel at some point, and are digging into his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as he hisses into my mouth.
The hand he has wrapped around my hair pulls tighter and I gasp, but he swallows the sound with another hungry kiss.
He breaks away just long enough to speak, his breathing ragged. “Tell me to stop.”