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What the fuck?
She and Xavi fucking Hart are standing in the huge, clawfoot bathtub in the middle of the room, fully clothed and covered in bubbles. “Move Along” by The All American Rejects is blaring from the waterproof sound system I got her for Christmas last year. She’s singing the words at the top of her lungs, using the open bottle of wine she’s holding as a microphone, laughing as he holds her arm up over head and spins her around like they’re on a fucking dance floor. I see red then, realizing that must be why she screamed just now.
He let her fall.
She looks unharmed and free of any cuts and bruises, but still. He let my blind little sister slip and fall in the fucking bathtub.
God, I hate him.
The thick layer of black eyeliner she’s wearing is smeared all over her face, and I can’t tell whether that’s because she’s been crying or because they’ve decided to turn the bathroom into a goddamn water park. Her dark hair is soaked, sticking to her skin, and it’s only then I spot the faint outline of her nipples through the drenched white shirt she’s wearing. I immediately cut my eyes to Carter, finding him already looking up at the corner of the ceiling, but I don't miss the amusement on his face like he knows I’m about to lose my shit.
“Katy!” I bite out, but of course she can’t see or hear me over the music.
My nostrils flare and I walk over the sound system in the shower, angrily jabbing the touch screen with my thumb until I find the stop button. Silence cuts through the bathroom, and Katy jumps with a gasp, both her and Xavi spinning in my direction, her back to his chest. His eyes widen when he sees me standing here, and judging by the look on his face, he already knows exactly what I’m thinking.
I’m going to kill you.
“Xav?” my sister asks, voice shaking with fear. “What…?”
He blinks and leans down to speak in her ear, gently taking her forearms and crossing them over her chest. Whatever he whispers to her makes her face go pale, and then she blushes, tightening her arms over her body to hide her breasts.
She looks guilty as fuck, as she should. Our parents are out of town this weekend for their nineteenth wedding anniversary. Katy told me she was staying at a friend’s house tonight, which I had no problem with. I fucking dropped her off at the chick’s front door a few hours ago, meaning she played me and lied to my face. Left her imaginary little sleepover, met up with this little punk instead and brought him home with her. Alone.
“Nate,” she says carefully, attempting to placate me with that doe eyed look she’s been hitting me with since we were kids. “I—”
“Don’t even try it.” I shake my head, walking over to the bath to snatch the bottle of red wine from her hand. “Get out of there and go to bed. You’re grounded.”
She drops her jaw at that, her face reddening even more at the embarrassment she must be feeling. “You can’t ground me, asshole,” she hisses. “I’m sixteen.”
“Exactly!” I yell at her. “You’re sixteen and I come home to find you getting wasted on Mom’s stash and doing fuck knows what with this loser.” I swing the bottle in Xavi’s direction with a sneer, more for his benefit than hers. “What are you even doing with this guy, Katy?”
“He’s my friend,” she stresses. “He makes me laugh and he’s one of the only people who actually give a shit. He gets it,” she adds, muttering, “Unlike some people.”
“What?”
She snaps her mouth shut, wiping the sudden tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. I should feel like a piece of shit for making her cry, and usually I would, but I’m too fucking livid to care right now.
With one arm still covering her chest, she takes Xavi’s hand and allows him to help guide her out of the tub, stunning me because she never accepts help from anyone anymore.
He links their soapy fingers together as he carefully walks her over the wet tiles, side-stepping around Carter to get her to her bedroom door.
“You good?” he asks quietly, and I can tell he’s not asking if she can make it to her room without help. He knows she can do it. He’s asking if she’s good mentally, not physically.
She nods, giving him a small, half smile. “Night, Xav.”
“Night, babe.”
I glare at him when he calls her that, but he doesn’t look phased. The cocky little shit walks back over to the bath with that stupid swagger in his step and grabs his hoodie off the floor, throwing it on over his soaking wet body. “You should watch the way you speak to her,” he says to me, brave enough to look me dead in the eye.
“Get out before I throw you out the fucking window.”
He scoffs out a laugh and shakes his head at me, shoving his feet into his sneakers without bothering to dry them first. His devil may care attitude pisses me off—everything about him pisses me off. I take a step closer to him, gritting my teeth when Carter grabs my shoulder to stop me.
“He’s sixteen,” he reminds me, kneading his fingertips into my flesh, probably trying to soothe the tension in my muscles.
Knowing he’s right—I can’t beat the shit out of a fucking child—I grab Carter’s hand and pull him into me, his bare chest and abs pressed flush against mine. I’d forgotten we were still shirtless until he touched me, but now I use it to my advantage. I don’t miss the way Xavi’s tongue slips out to lick his lip ring as he bounces his eyes between us. Smirking, I pull Carter’s mouth to mine but keep my eyes on Xavi, using the only way I know I can get to him. I lick around Carter’s tongue and snake my hand behind his back, sliding it down into his jeans to finger his already wet, open hole, picking up where we left off.
I ignore the way my dick gets harder at the flash of heat in Xavi’s eyes.
