She lets him kiss her once, twice, before pushing at his chest. “Go take your shower before the food gets here.”
Jake groans but obeys, rolling off her and disappearing into the bathroom. She listens to the sound of the water running, letting herself savor the last remnants of warmth in the bed before slipping out and stretching. His shirt, soft and oversized, hangs loose on her body, the hem brushing her bare thighs.
A knock at the door makes her jump. She glances at the clock.
“That was fast,” she mutters, padding over barefoot and pulling it open without thinking.
But it’s not their breakfast.
It’s Jesse.
For a split second, her brain refuses to catch up. She just stares, confused—until it hits her like a punch to the chest. The world lurches sideways.
Jesse’s expression shifts in slow, horrible motion: confusion, realization, and then something worse. Something that slices through her like ice. Anger, yes—but mostly hurt. Deep, raw hurt. It’s in the way hismouth tightens, how his eyes go hard and distant, like he’s trying to wall himself off before he feels too much.
He’s holding a paper bag, the corners stained with grease, the smell of egg and butter wafting into the hallway like a cruel joke. He brought breakfast. For Jake. And now here he is, standing in the doorway, staring at her in Jake’s shirt.
Natalie can’t breathe. Can’t move.
This is the exact moment she was afraid of—only it feels ten times worse.
Natalie doesn’t move. Can’t move. Her pulse roars in her ears, her stomach twisting so violently she thinks she might be sick. She’s suddenly hyper aware of everything. Her hair is still tangled from sleep, Jake’s shirt swallows her frame, and faint marks mar her neck and thighs, proof of last night.
Jesse takes a slow step back, his gaze raking over her. His fingers loosen around the bag in his hand and he lets it drop to the floor.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” His voice is low, shaking with restrained fury.
Natalie grips the doorframe, her knuckles white. She tries to find words, any words, but her throat is tight, her thoughts a jumbled mess. Shame creeps up her spine, bitter and suffocating. This isn’t how she wanted him to know. Not like this. Not when she’s still standing in Jake’s shirt, his scent wrapped around her.
She swallows hard, forcing herself to speak. “Jesse, I?—”
The bathroom door swings open behind her.
Jake steps out, a towel slung low around his hips, water dripping from his damp hair onto his broad shoulders. He freezes at the sight of her Jesse, and her brother’s expression contorts into something sinister.
“She’s my fucking sister,” Jesse growls, his fists clenching at his sides. His entire body vibrates with rage, his jaw so tight it looks like he might crack a tooth.
Jake exhales through his nose, shoulders squaring. “Jesse.”
Jesse takes a threatening step forward, and Natalie immediately wedges herself between them, placing a hand on Jesse’s chest. “Jesse, don’t. It’s not like that?—”
His chest rises and falls sharply, nostrils flaring. “This whole time?You’ve been screwing him?” His voice is thick with hurt, betrayal layered beneath the fury.
His gaze cuts to Jake, dark with barely restrained violence. “You really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
Jake doesn’t back down, his own jaw tightening. “You don’t want to do this.”
“You think I don’t?” His eyes flash, wounded and furious all at once. “I trusted you. I fucking talked to you about all my shit.”
Jesse lets out a bitter laugh, but there’s no humor in it—only pain. “I should’ve known you’re a snake. I should’ve fucking known.”
He takes another step, and Jake moves instinctively, muscles tensing. Natalie presses both hands against Jesse’s chest, holding him back with all the strength she has.
“Stop it!” she pleads, her voice breaking. “Please.”
Jesse glares down at her, his breathing heavy, his body rigid. His anger is a storm, wild and consuming, but there’s pain beneath it—a deep, festering wound that makes her stomach twist.
His voice drops, low and raw. “I hope he’s worth it.”
