All Chapters of The Sin Behind His Door: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

  "We're not going anywhere," Drake said, his voice dropping into a hard, stubborn register. He didn't wait for my response before he reached over, snatching my phone right out of my hand. "Hey! Give that back!" I reached for it, but he was already pushing his door open, stepping out into the salt-heavy air. "He’s doing too much," Drake continued, his boots crunching violently on the gravel. "It’s high time we rebelled too. We’re their kids, not their chess pieces. We’re staying here until he realizes that." He stood by the hood of the car, silhouetted against the flickering streetlight, as he methodically powered down both of our devices. The screens went black, "They won't find us without our phones. GPS is useless if the hardware is dead." 

   "You... You like it?" He asked, his voice momentarily stripped of its usual bravado. He leaned forward, watching me with an intensity that made me realize how much he’d actually staked on this single meal. It wasn't just breakfast; it was a peace offering, a bridge built out of butter and eggs. "It's really nice," I said, nodding my head severally as I took a larger, more confident bite. The saltiness of the glazed bacon cut through the richness of the omelet perfectly. "It’s better than 'nice,' Drake. If you’d served this last night, I might have actually believed your story about the cookbook." He let out a long breath, a genuine laugh bubbling up from his chest as he sank back into his chair. "I stayed up for two hours reading that thing after you went to bed. Turns out,

  "Yuna..." He whispered my name like it was the only word left in his vocabulary. Before I could even gasp, he reached out, his hand wrapping around my wrist with a feverish heat, and pulled me into the room. The door clicked shut behind us, the sound final and sharp in the quiet house. He was shirtless, his chest heaving as if he had run miles. His skin was slick with sweat that glistened under the dim amber glow of the bedside lamp, and his dark hair was plastered to his forehead in damp clumps. But it was his eyes that truly paralyzed me, they were bloodshot, rimmed with a raw, terrifying vulnerability, it reminded of that night when we lost ourselves to each other.  I thought the last three days had been a reset, a return to the safety of our old roles, but seeing him like this... I realized "normal" was a ghost that had long since left this house.

I dropped the phone on the bed, the screen glowing like a dying star in the dim room. I didn’t say a word to Drake, who still stood paralyzed, staring at me with a look of profound betrayal. I could feel the heat radiating from him. "Don't come close," I said, my voice shaking but firm when I noticed him making a tentative move toward me. "Just stay where you are. I'm getting out of here. And I'm going to show you, I’m going to prove it to everyone that I don't want to have anything to do with you.""That's a lie," he countered, his voice dropping to a jagged whisper. "There are so many things you want to do with me, Yuna. You just haven't realized it yet.""I don't want to see anything!""We had a great time just now!" His voice suddenly rose in a burst of frustration that made the very air in the room vibrate. All of a sudden, I could feel the energy of his anger filling up the small space, suffocating and hot. "For more than two days, we have been having the time of our lives..."

I didn't say a word letting my hand roam, slow and steady over his skin. I traced the line of his ribs, the muscle of his chest, my touch nerve-wracking and deliberate. I wanted to feel the reality of him, the grounded, uncomplicated strength that had nothing to do with the Thomas. Every inch of him was an answer to a question I had been too afraid to ask.He was different. He smelled different. He wasn't Jake. I moved closer, nestling my body against his, fitting myself into the curves of his frame. My hand moved lower, grazing the waistband of his shorts, and I felt a shudder run through him that had nothing to do with the cold. It was a slow-burn ignition, a stirring of every part of him that he had been trying so hard to keep under control for my sake."Aubrey, stop," he whispered, though he didn't move my hand. "You've been through so much today. You're not in your right mind.""I've never been more sure," I murmured against his neck. I could feel his pulse hammering against my l