Chapter 13
Thirteen
SEBA
Steam swirls between the shower curtain and the tiled walls, water pelting my scalp and sore shoulders as the remaining suds crowd the drain. I’m wasting hot water, but I’m past caring— it feels too good on my throbbing head.
As soon as I walked in the door, I tried sneaking to my room, but Mom was in the mood to play eager, attentive parent and went absolutely apeshit the second she saw blood.
I placated her with a story of accidentally smacking my face on some equipment, suffered through a pointless lecture on the unnecessary dangers of football and allowed her to sanitize the wound while wolfing down a plate of leftovers.
Then she marched me into the laundry room to clean my pads (they did reek) before finally allowing me to drag my exhausted body upstairs for a shower.
Except the bathroom was locked.
Cade hogged it for ages. Any other time, I would’ve banged on the door, demanding he hurry the fuck up, but considering everything that went down a few hours ago… I figured it was best to give him space.
Despite it all, I’m smiling like an idiot. I can’t help it. I got Andrea’s number. More than that. She chased after me and flirted with me.
Shutting off the water, I step out and grab a towel. I know it’s late, but I’m itching to text her. Call her. Talk to her for hours. But I don't want to come on too strong.
One text won’t seem too eager, right?
I reach for my phone—
A noise on the other side of the door makes me freeze.
Cade’s door.
I hold my breath. Wait. Don’t move.
A soft cry.
My pulse pounds. His furious, betrayed eyes flash in my memory. Guilt pours through me. The idea of him crying—
Again. But this time there’s more.
A whine.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. That… wasn’t distress. I’m paralyzed. The condensation clouding the mirror starts to dissipate, but the air is stifling— humid and hot.
Another new sound. There’s no mistaking it.
A moan.
My skin’s on fire.
But the body reflected back at me turns my blood to ice.
I can’t fucking breathe.
It doesn’t make sense.
It’s wrong.
I can’t be.
It’s wrong.
Andrea’s words echo in my ears.
He’s your brother.
I’m not…
He gasps, “Yes.”
I’m hard.