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I ran from my mom’s drinking.
I ran from every design setback.
This… I’m not running from this.
Dean continues. “You know—”
“Whatever it is, I’m sure I know.”
“I heard you and Ryan.”
“You—”
“You didn’t know that.”
“You did not.”
“Yeah. I did. I was coming to your room to pick you up. Could hear it all the way in the hallway. You’re fucking loud, Leigh.”
My sex clenches. My stomach twists. My veins buzz with some horrible mix of misery and desire. “Your point?”
“You begged him to fuck you.”
“I did not beg.”
“Yeah, you did. It was hot.”
“I don’t need to hear that.” Fuck, I already miss him so badly. My pulse is weak. My breath is shallow. My head is a mess.
“Might fuck myself to it later.”
“That’s your brother.” I turn to face him. Try to find the genuine emotion hiding in his playful expression. It’s not desire. It’s concern. Which only adds to the dread in my stomach. “You’re full of shit.”
“Not gonna think about him. Mostly gonna think about your tits in that dress. Fuck, that might be all I need.”
“And my ass?”
“Of course. You looked like a spy in a porno.”
“You know—”
“I do.” He parrots my tone. “Whatever it is, I know.”
“If I really thought you were masturbating to me, I wouldn’t talk to you.”
“Believe what you want.”
“I will.” I sink into my seat. Set my purse in my lap. Stare at my text from Ryan.
Ryan: I’ll be here if you want to talk. All night.
I do.
I want to be there so badly.
I want to collapse in his arms as he whispers I love you in my ear.
But that isn’t going to happen.
