로그인“They’re coming over tonight,” Jake said.I looked up from my calculus textbook. “Who?”“The guys. From the team.” He was leaning against my dorm room doorframe, still in his practice gear. Sweaty. Beautiful. “Wanted to give you a heads up.”My stomach flipped. Jake’s teammates. The popular guys who barely looked at me on campus. Who probably didn’t even know I existed before Jake and I started dating three months ago.“Oh. Okay. I can go to the library—”“No.” He came into the room, closed the door behind him. “I want you to stay.”“Jake, I don’t really fit in with them—”“That’s not what I meant.” He sat on my bed, pulled me onto his lap. “I want you to stay. With us.”I didn’t understand at first. Then I saw the look in his eyes.“What are you saying?”His hand slid up my thigh. “I’m saying I’ve been teaching you things. How to please me. How to use that pretty mouth. How to take my cock.”Heat flooded my face. Three months ago I’d been a virgin. Now Jake had me doing things I’d on
I woke up in Dante’s bed.For a moment, I didn’t remember where I was. Then I felt his arm heavy across my waist, his chest warm against my back, and everything came rushing back.We’d had sex.I’d cheated on my husband with his brother.I should feel guilty. Should feel sick with shame.Instead, I felt the ghost of his hands on my skin and wanted more.“You’re thinking too loud,” Dante murmured against my neck.“What time is it?”“Almost six.”Michael would be home soon.I sat up, started looking for my clothes. “I need to go. I need to—”Dante’s hand closed around my wrist. Gentle. “Look at me.”I turned.His hair was messy from my hands. His eyes were still dark with sleep and something else.“Don’t regret this,” he said.“I have to. He’s your brother—”“I don’t give a fuck about that right now.” He pulled me back down. “Do you regret it?”“I should.”“That’s not what I asked.”I looked at him. Really looked at him. “No. I don’t regret it.”“Good.” He kissed me. Soft. Sweet. “Then
I didn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt Dante’s hand on my jaw. Heard his voice saying he couldn’t stop thinking about me. Beside me, Michael snored. The smell of whiskey came off him in waves. I stared at the ceiling until the sun came up. Michael left for work at seven. Slammed the door without saying goodbye. I waited until I heard his truck pull away, then got up. Put on my robe. Went downstairs to make coffee. Dante was already in the kitchen. Shirtless again. Leaning against the counter with a mug in his hand. We looked at each other. “Morning,” he said. “Morning.” I moved to the coffee maker, poured myself a cup. My hands were steady. That was good. “Sleep okay?” he asked. “Fine.” “Liar.” I turned to face him. “Excuse me?” “I heard you. Pacing around three AM.” Heat crept up my neck. “The walls are thin.” “They are.” Silence. We drank our coffee. “About last night—” he started. “There’s nothing to talk about.” “Ava—” “I mean it. Whatever you think happened
The knife makes a clean sound against the cutting board. Carrot. Onion. Celery. I keep my eyes down and my breathing even and I do not think about this morning, about the coffee pot I almost dropped, about the way Michael looked at me over his newspaper when he said it. My brother’s staying with us a bit. Needs a place to crash. How long? That look. The warning folded inside it like a blade inside a hand. However long he needs. He’s family. Of course, I’d said. Carefully. The way I say everything now. I hear the motorcycle before it turns onto our street. That low, rolling growl, unhurried, like it owns the road and knows it. My hands still on the cutting board. I know that sound. I have hated that sound for years, through three Christmases and two funerals and one wedding where he sat in the third row and looked at me the entire ceremony like I was doing something he found privately amusing. The engine cuts in the driveway and my jaw tightens before I can stop it. D
I couldn’t concentrate all day. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw us in that gym. Felt his hands on me, his cock inside me, his voice calling me his dirty girl. By the time midnight came, I was already wet. I put on a bikini under my robe, grabbed a towel, and headed down to the pool. The hallway was empty. The whole building felt asleep. I punched in the code—1843—and the door clicked open. The pool area was dark except for the underwater lights, casting everything in a blue-green glow. Steam rose from the heated water. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the city lights beyond. Cameron was already there, leaning against the far wall in just his swim trunks. When he saw me, he straightened. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he said. “I told you I would.” “I know. But this is—” “Reckless. Stupid. I know.” I dropped my towel, let the robe fall. “I don’t care.” His eyes traveled over my body, lingering on the bikini that didn’t leave much to the imagination. “Fuck,”
I’d been avoiding him for three days. Well, trying to. Hard to do when we lived across the hall from each other. I’d see him in the morning leaving for work, catch glimpses of him in the hallway. We’d nod, say polite hellos, pretend that almost-kiss hadn’t happened. Pretend I didn’t go to bed every night thinking about his hand on my face, his breath on my mouth. By day four, I was restless and frustrated and needed to burn off energy. The building gym was open twenty-four hours. At midnight, it would be empty. I changed into leggings and a sports bra, grabbed my water bottle, and headed down. The gym was on the second floor. Small but well-equipped. Weights, machines, a treadmill, floor mats. And mirrors. Everywhere. I was alone. Perfect. I started with the treadmill, running hard, trying to exhaust myself. Trying to stop thinking about Cameron. About what might have happened if he hadn’t pulled away. After thirty minutes, I moved to the weights. Lay back on the b







