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“I thought you were in here with a…” Using the chainsaw, he gestures to my bed.

“A—A guy? You thought Wesley was a guy? That I was in here fucking a guy named Wesley?”

“Hey.”

“Sorry,” I tell my friend as we disentangle ourselves. “I like your name, but I would never sleep with a guy named Wesley.”

“Only a guy named Guy.”

“You!” I point at Khaos before making a quick zipping motion to my lips. Not only is right now not the time, but he really has no room to judge names.

“You asked me a question.”

“Which you still haven’t answered,” I point out.

“Yes, okay? I thought Wesley was a guy.”

“Common misconception,” Wesley says with a nod.

“Are you serious?” I screech. He cut a freaking hole into my room because he was jealous?

To make matters so much worse, he shrugs. He does not apologize. Not to me, not to Wesley, not to my room that used to be a single, solitary space but is now conjoined with his. He. Just. Shrugs.

My mouth opening and closing like a fish, I give him the loudest silent stare I can muster. I cannot believe him. Cannot.

“So…this is the brother?”

“Step,” Khaos corrects Welsey. “I’m Khaos.”

With a chuckle, Wesley says, “I’m getting that.”

I slide my gaze sideways, catching the moment hers lands on the new ink right below Khaos’s collarbone spelling out Dakota Lynsi Stack Rhodes. He got the tattoo while I was at school on Monday. I thought it was marker at first, but one swipe of my spit-covered thumb proved it was real. He tattooed my name—my full name—on his chest. And according to him, not as a joke.

What does she think of him? Of me? Of…this? The situation was a lot to take in before my stepbrother/boyfriend sawed his way into my room in a jealous rage.

“He’s unwell,” I say.

“Kota.”

I spastically gesture to the part of my wall he’s now standing on, then the private tattoo he’s so carelessly displaying. These are the signs of a madman, Khaos.

Wesley laughs. “I think it’s time I get out of here.”

“Do you need me to drive you somewhere?” I’m not even sure she owns a car because I’ve never seen her driving anywhere.

“That’s okay. My ride should be here any minute.”

“Are you sure?”

After checking her phone, she says, “Yeah. Actually, they’re already here.”

“All right. I’ll walk you out.”

She puts up a hand, stopping me from following her. Her smile is just as mischievous as the one from earlier. “You have your hands full here. But, um…” Gathering her belongings, she heads for the door. “Thanks for the iPad. You’re a lifesaver.”

So she really did need it? That feels good at least.

When I try to apologize for the trauma she just endured, she laughs me off.