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Seraphina shrieked with laughter and fell to the floor just as she let loose the bowling ball. It went right into the gutter, but she turned her face toward Tony—Matt’s dickhead friend Tony. He had said something that made her laugh, and he was laughing, too. He held a hand down, helping her stand back up.
They were both chuckling as they returned to the couches.
I didn’t like that, for some reason. I didn’t know why.
I noted who else was there.
Friends. Guy. Chester. Torie. Tamara. Melissa was on the end, tucked next to Matt, who was whispering into her ear.
I frowned at that. I thought that was done with?
Then I felt the absence beside me and looked. Where was Kash?
There he was. He was coming back into the room, putting his phone away. He looked up, meeting my gaze, and he faltered in his step.
He smiled, then frowned, his head cocked to the side.
Three weeks later… or maybe four?
“She needs to go back to counseling! This is enough.”
I was awake and sitting in an office. That was Peter, yelling on the other side of the door.
“No, she doesn’t.” That was Kash.
It was dark, with no lights on in here. The glow of the light from their side shone under the door.
“Bailey?”
A whisper from the side and I turned. Seraphina was pushing open a different door, peering in, biting her lip.
“I’m here.” I waved her over, patting the couch beside me. I had a blanket. I didn’t know why it was there but it was, and I lifted up an end of it. “Come cuddle with your sister.”
She’d taken a step toward me, her eyes worried, still chewing on her lip. Her hands were twisted around each other, but at my last suggestion, her eyes lit up. She stopped biting her lip, and her hands came free from each other. “Yeah?” She grinned, almost literally brightening up the room.
“Yeah.” I could smile. I noticed it then. It didn’t hurt my cheeks, and when she slipped under my blanket, I drew her to me.
I liked this.
Kash had my back on the other side of the door. I wasn’t worried, and I had my little sister in my arms.
My shoulders seemed a little lighter.
Five weeks later
I was straddling Kash.
My legs around his waist.
He was sitting up against the bed’s headboard, his hand to my neck, and he angled his head, taking my mouth harder. He was thrusting up into me. I was riding him. My hands were bracing against the headboard behind him.
It was hot.
Everything was buzzing.
Good. Not good.
I was—I was writhing. I was needing.
