Chapter 5:

By the time I get back to my dorm exhausted and drained, all I want is silence, a nap, and maybe for my brain to stop screaming "honey" every time I inhale, and "mate" every time I exhale.

What I do not want? To walk in on my two best friends sucking face on the couch like a they're eating each other's souls.

"Oh for fuck's sake," I blurt before I can even stop myself.

August yelps and practically launches herself off Ethan, but it’s too late. His lips are red, her hair is a mess, and their guilty faces scream busted.

“Wow,” I drawl, leaning against the doorframe. “So this is what you two do when I’m not around? Interesting.”

“We—It’s not—” August stammers, her hands flailing like she’s trying to erase the last thirty seconds from existence.

Ethan, ever the calm one, just clears his throat and sits up straighter, like maybe if he acts mature, I’ll forget I saw him with his tongue halfway down my best friend’s throat.

I grin wickedly, suddenly enjoying the moment. “Relax, lovebirds. I’m not judging. Just saying it’s going to be really awkward when you break up. And for the record—” I point a finger at Ethan, “—I’m taking his side.”

August gasps. “Excuse me?”

“What? He cooks. You don’t. I have priorities.”

“Olivia!”

“Don’t Olivia me. We've been eating cereals for the past month.”

"It's not like you were bothered."

Ethan chuckles under his breath, and August glares at both of us like we’re conspiring against her.

I move into the space fully, setting my bag down on the couch and then, taking off my shoes.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work, Ethan?"

"Uh...I'm off today."

"Right, the fire department let you off so you can come in and kiss my best friend?"

"Olivia!" August squeals and tosses a pillow at me, which I dodge smoothly as I walk over to the refrigerator.

I'm about to grab myself a can of soda when Ethan stands up from the couch he's sitting on and approaches me slowly.

“So,” he says slowly, “about this Zeke guy…” his hands are folded neatly across his chest and his eyes aren't joking anymore.

I pause, my heart beat picking up a pace suddenly. “What about him?”

August perks up, instantly curious. “Yeah, Liv. You never finished telling us. What really happened last night?”

God, I was hoping this was something of the past. Although what did I really expect?

August believes I was possibly taken advantage of, and she would have passed that thought to Ethan.

Ethan is not the kind of guy to let these kind of things slide, especially when it comes to me.

He's older and he's smarter. Yes, he does stupid things like agreeing to go to the woods last night, but it doesn't make him any less wiser.

He won't let this go until he's sure there's no threat, and no one to beat up.

Heat crawls up my neck from the sudden attention on me, and my teeth clenches. “I already told you. Nothing I didn’t want to happen.”

Ethan frowns, leaning forward. “But you don’t remember it, do you? You were baked. So How can you be sure?”

My jaw tightens. “Because I just am, okay?”

"You can tell them instincts?" My mind offers, but I shake it off.

“That’s not good enough,” he presses in a calm voice, but stubborn. “I need to know you weren’t taken advantage of.”

The words dig under my skin, sharp and irritating, like splinters. I think back to Zeke, to his genuine stare when he told me everything that happened last night was what I wanted.

"I wasn't, guys. Okay?"

"Olivia..." Ethan draws out.

I'm getting pissed already. I know he means well, but it feels like an interrogation and I feel cornered.

“I wasn’t!” I snap. “God, why won’t you believe me?”

“Because you don’t remember!”

The room goes tense. August bites her lip, glancing between us like a referee in a boxing ring.

“I don’t need to remember to know it was consensual,” I say more calmly now. “I know what I wanted.”

Ethan’s jaw works. “Olivia—”

“No. Stop. You’re not my brother, Ethan, you can't be forcing answers out of me.” The words rip out of me, harsher than I mean them.

The second they leave my mouth, the air freezes. His face falls, the hurt flashing clear in his eyes before he masks it. August inhales sharply like I just punched her.

Shit.

“I didn’t mean—” I start, but the damage is already done. My chest feels tight, too tight, and I can’t stand their stares another second.

So I storm off to my room, slamming the door like the melodramatic queen I apparently am.

Behind the closed doors, I wallow in self hate. How could I have said that to him?

Yeah, Ethan’s not Luke. He’ll never be Luke. But he’s tried, in his own way, and what did I do? Shoved it in his face.

Brilliant, Olivia. A+ friend material.

All he was trying to do was make sure I was okay, and there I was, shoving it right up his ass?

"Even Judas wouldn't have done that," my mind purrs.

"Oh, you just shut up okay? I don't need you adding more salts to my wounds."

"Your wounds? Last I checked, Ethan was the one you threw under the bus and left for dead."

"Shut–"

"You know, you should probably go back out there and remedy this before it's too late."

I could do that, but I'm too embarrassed to go back out there. However, the guilt eats me at me until I can't take it anymore, and after maybe five minutes of sulking, I fling my door open again.

Just in time to catch August ushering Ethan toward the front door, her hand on his arm like she’s begging him not to leave angry.

“Wait,” I blurt.

They both turn, surprised. Ethan cocks an eyebrow at me, and his jaw is still tense. My stomach twists, but I force myself to continue.

“Can I uh...can I walk you back?” I ask him. My voice is softer this time, almost apologetic. “We should…talk.”

His lips curve downward, but after a beat, he nods. “Alright.”

The walk is quiet at first, the evening air cool against my burning cheeks. I shove my hands in my hoodie pocket, staring at the pavement like it holds the secrets of the universe.

It's Zeke's hoodie, and I'm trying my best not to fold under the scent of it.

Ethan is silent too by my side, and he doesn't even spare me a glance. The only sounds between us is our footsteps and the low hum of activity from around us.

Finally, I force the words out. “I’m sorry. For what I said. It wasn’t fair.”

He sighs, hands in his pockets too. “I don't know what's come over you, but you should know by now that all I want is to make sure you're okay. If I sound imposing, it's because I care. And yes, I'm not Luke, but before he died, he made me promise to be him for you. To be your brother, and that's what I'm always trying to do.”

Now I feel more like shit.

"I'm sorry, I...I really appreciate you being here for me and I don't mind you being imposing, but it's just that..."

"It's just what, Liv?"

"I don't remember, okay? I don't remember what Zeke and I talked about, I don't know what led up to the moment, I don't...I only remember his face and the feeling of him."

Ethan doesn’t press me right away, which is weird because normally he’d be lecturing me about making smarter choices, or quoting Luke like some gospel of responsibility.

Instead, he just walks beside me, hands stuffed deep in his jacket pockets, like he’s holding back a thousand words.

I almost wish he’d yell at me. At least yelling I can deflect with sarcasm. This quiet, careful Ethan makes my stomach twist worse than any argument.

Finally, he speaks. “Liv… I know you. You don’t just hang out with strangers, more so get intimate with them. Don't you think for the slightest that he may have taken advantage of you? Is his name even Zeke or are you making that up? Just so August and I get off your back?"

I snort, trying to cover the fact that his words hit a nerve. “Well, surprise! Olivia finally stepped out of her shell and decided to fuck a stranger.”

He doesn’t laugh. Figures.

“I’m serious,” he says, his voice low.

I want to tell him that there's a certain way my body responds to Zeke. That my mind suddenly became alive after our encounter and it calls him mate. I want to tell him that his scent holds a power over me that none other has ever held.

But I know that's crazy talk and he'd probably think I'm still high as shit. So I tell him instead, "I saw him today. Zeke? I saw him and he assured me that everything that happened last night was what I wanted. He was surprised that I didn't remember and he assured me it was purely consensual."

"What if he's just manipulating you to believe that? How did he even know where to find you? What if he's stalking you?"

"Ethan," I groan out and pick up my pace. He picks up his pace too.

"Honestly, the next time you see him, maybe get his number so we can chat? How about that?"

"Yes, Ethan."

We walk in silence again. The hoodie still carries that honey scent, faint but stubborn, curling into my senses until my body reacts like I’m standing next to Zeke all over again. It’s maddening. Like he’s everywhere, even now.

"Because he is," the smug voice in my head chimes in. "He's everywhere you go, now."

“Fantastic,” I mutter under my breath. “Even my hallucinations have a stalker kink now.”

“What?” Ethan glances at me.

“Nothing,” I say quickly, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace. “Just talking to myself. You know me.”

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I do.”

We reach his street faster than I expect, and I stop at the bottom of the steps to his house. For a moment, neither of us moves. The porch light flickers above us, painting the night in a pale glow.

I shove my hands deeper into my pockets, staring at the ground. “Look, Ethan… I really didn’t mean what I said earlier. About you not being Luke.”

He exhales slowly. “You did. And you’re right. I’m not him.”

My head snaps up. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes...God, his eyes look tired, and sad.

“I’ve tried, Liv,” he continues. “I’ve tried to look out for you the way he would have. But I know I can’t replace him. I just…I don’t want you to feel alone.”

My chest aches and the guilt I’ve been dragging around all day doubles in weight.

“I know,” I whisper. “And I appreciate it. More than I say. But I don’t want you to carry all my mess. You’ve got your own life. And now—” I smirk weakly, “—apparently, my best friend’s lipstick smeared across your face.”

That earns a faint laugh out of him, and relief loosens the knot in my chest.

“Yeah, about that…” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Don’t,” I cut in quickly, holding up a hand. “Save the awkward talk. If you two are official now, fine. Just don’t do it on the couch where I eat my popcorn, okay?”

He chuckles again, shaking his head. “You’re a mess up there, you know?”

“And yet you keep me around,” I shoot back.

The air between us softens, and I'm relieved to see him back to his goofy self.

“Get some rest, Liv,” he says finally, stepping up toward his door. “And… if you see this Zeke guy again, promise me you’ll be careful.”

I roll my eyes, but my chest warms in spite of myself. “Yes, Dad.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

He disappears inside, leaving me on the sidewalk with nothing but the flickering porch light and the quiet hum of my own racing thoughts.

I hear the snapping of a twig and I look around. Nothing and no one.

I shrug and begin my walk back to my dorm.