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I sit there, letting his fingers work, the room suddenly quiet. Hunter stares at the screen, racing us but differently now. His shoulders are tight and his knuckles white.
“Where’s Lake?” He jerks the controller, speeding past Kade. “Or River or Ocean or whatever this one’s name is?”
“Sent her home,” Kade replies, still holding me in his lap. “I’d rather hang out with Dylan.”
The hair on my arms rises. Kade is like this sometimes. He’s not usually affectionate or playful like Hunter is, but when he does show this side of himself, it’s like he’s jealous.
Is he jealous?
After a few moments, Hunter tosses his controller toward me. It lands on the couch. “Here, you can both play,” he says to me, not looking at either of us.
Then he leaves the basement.
There were lots of instances like that, now that I think about it. It seemed, for years, like Kade just wanted me to go away. Later, I chalked it up to boys against girls and kids’stuff, and I tried not to be hurt by it, but when we grew up, things changed. He started showing me more attention. Wanting me around. Including me. Even insisting I sit next to him at a movie or in the car.
And that’s about the time his and Hunter’s relationship deteriorated to the point where everyone could feel how thick the air was whenever they were in a room together. All the energy shifted, and I just wanted to be with them. I didn’t—and still don’t—understand what was wrong.
Sometimes I felt things for Hunter—like longing—but he never brought it up, and I was too embarrassed to think about it. Kade would touch me, hold me, and serve me lots of attention, and then other times, he would ignore me.
I’ve missed them both.
I throw off my covers and head into the hallway, looking left to right, and only hesitating a moment before I walk to the attic door. Opening it, I lift my eyes up the staircase, lit by the gray morning light coming in through the windows up there.
I don’t hear the rocking chair now.
I ponder going up, but almost immediately, I slam the door shut again, shaking off the chills.
The ghosts are leaving me alone. I’ll leave them alone.
I grab a pile of clothes and carry them downstairs to the washer. Dumping everything in, I find some powder on the shelf above and scatter it in the machine, starting the cycle.
The washer vibrates against my thighs as it starts, and I remember Weston’s obsession with exhibitionism. Reaching over, I turn on the empty dryer and move in front of it, slowly resting my hips against the machine.
The tremors shake through me, the ancient dryer rocking more than it probably should. But I tingle between my legs, and it’s not entirely unpleasant. I turn one of mylegs out, pressing myself a little harder into it, and I close my eyes, letting it quake through my sleep shorts. My clit throbs, and I break out in a sudden smile.
My phone rings upstairs, and I jump, opening my eyes.Shit.
I turn off the dryer and run back upstairs. I race into my room and grab my phone, seeing it’s my dad.
I answer it. “Dad?”
“Can you tell me why I woke up to a half-naked photo of you online this morning?” he snaps.
The smile I didn’t know I was wearing falls.Photo…Calvin grabbed a pic of Hunter and me the night before last coming out of the shower.
And my dad’s just seeing it now. I’m guessing my uncles and Hawke worked very hard to hide it from him this long.
I blow out a breath and grab the towel I left at the bottom of the bed. “Because someone took an unauthorized picture of me coming out of the shower in my house?” I explain, making no effort to disguise the sarcasm from my tone. “Dad, you know where I am. These people are going to mess with me.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about!”
His growl is like a needle in my ear. I flinch.
“You need to calm down.” I hear my mom in the background.
But my dad doesn’t seem to hear anything she’s saying. “You were in a towel, and Hunter was in a towel!”
“Right now, babe,” my mom warns.
