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“Do you have them here?” I ask. “I’d be happy to take a look after lunch.”
“Would I risk dropping a bomb like that and not bring them along? Fuck, Aspen. Do you even know me at all?”
I roll my eyes and refill my wine, not stopping until it’s almost flowing over the rim. “Good point,” I mutter, and with that, we get stuck right back into our lunch. Mom and Dad bombard us all with questions about life, hitting Izaac with all the ins and outs of his club shit while sucker punching me with all the college bullshit.
An hour later, the dining table is clear and the mess from my failed spaghetti and meatballs has been cleaned up, but damn, my arm is sore from having to scrub the bottom of the meatball pot.
With plenty of sun left in the afternoon sky, I trudge down to my room, hoping I remembered to leave a cute bikini here the last time I dropped by. I close the door behind me before scrounging through my old closet and finding a small red triangle bikini. It’s old and will barely cover me, but it’ll get the job done. Besides, the only person who’s going to look is Izaac, and there’s nothing there he hasn’t already spent long hours drowning in.
Peeling my dress off, I toss it onto my bed before reaching behind me to unclip my bra, and just as the purple lace falls to the ground, my bedroom door opens and I grin wide as Izaac discreetly steps in, his heated gaze roaming over my bare chest. “You mind, perve?” I tease. “I’m trying to get dressed here.”
“By all means,” he says, stepping into me and hooking his thumbs into the waistband of my thong. “Let me help.”
I shove him off me, trying to keep my tone low. “I think you’ve done more than enough.”
Izaac laughs and grips my chin, lifting it until my eyes lock onto his. “And I’ll do it a million times over,” he murmurs, his tone so damn low that my pussy aches for him all over again. “I’ll never tire of your sweet little cunt.”
I swallow hard. “You’re playing a risky game today.”
“I know,” he admits with a heavy sigh before reaching for my bikini top. He pulls it around me before tying it in a perfect knot in the center of my back and taking the second set of strings to wrap around my neck, only he uses it to his advantage as he pulls me in against him.
Once the bikini top is firmly in place, he brushes my hair back over my shoulder before skimming his fingers down my arms as though mesmerized by the feel of my skin beneath his. “I’m not going to lie, Birdy. That speech he gave at the table about why he’s naming his restaurant after you made me feel like a piece of shit.”
“I know,” I murmur, dropping my head against his chest. “Do you think we’re doing the right thing?”
“Fuck no,” he scoffs. “Your mom was right though. The longer we keep him in the dark, the worse it’s going to be, but I don’t know if I can tell him. How the fuck am I supposed to explain this without gutting him? He’ll never trust you again, and me . . . He’ll fucking despise me.”
Guilt radiates through my chest, making it harder to breathe, and he pulls me in tighter, and despite everything that’s gone down today, I sense that same rejection within him. “Just say it,” I sigh, feeling the hurt well up in my chest.
“Don’t get me wrong, Aspen. I want this. Since the second I touched you, I’ve wanted it, but I think we need to cool it, just until I can sort this out with your brother. It fucking kills me to not have his approval, and before, when it was just sex, I was mostly okay with it. But now that it’s more than that . . . it matters.”
My hand scoops beneath his arm and around his back, clutching onto him as though he might disappear at any moment. “He’s never going to approve of this,” I say, my heart shattering within my chest. “Don’t walk away from me.”
“I’m not walking away,” he promises, his lips brushing across mine. “I just—”
My door flies open and my head whips up, finding Austin standing before me with his laptop in his hand. He comes to a screeching halt, his brows furrowed as he takes in the sight before him—me half naked in his best friend’s arms, and despite the heavy conversation, from the way Izaac holds me, anyone would think he was just about ready to throw me down and have his wicked way with me.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” Austin roars, throwing his laptop aside as the deepest betrayal flashes in his eyes. Rage overcomes him, and as he bounds toward us, I distantly notice how his laptop shatters, then before Izaac even gets a chance to step away and explain what the fuck is going down here, Austin rears back, his fist flying toward his jaw.
Izaac quickly dodges the punch, but Austin’s momentum propels him forward, and in the blink of an eye, his strong fist slams across my cheek. I crumble, flying back against my bed and dropping to the ground as pain booms across my face, throbbing in agony. I whimper, clutching my face as Izaac launches for me. “Fuck, Birdy. Are you okay?” he rushes out, his eyes wide as I hear my parents somewhere down the hall racing toward the loud commotion. He reaches for my hand, gently lifting it off my throbbing cheek, and whatever he sees has his gaze darkening with fury.
Tears spring from my eyes as Austin moves in, horrified as he looks over Izaac’s shoulder. “Fuck. Aspen,” he grits. “I’m sorry, I—”
Izaac whips around, every bit of that fury locked onto my brother, and he snaps, springing toward him. His fist strikes out like a fucking python, clocking Austin in the jaw. “You fucking punched your sister, asshole!” Izaac roars, shoving him against the drywall as my old photo frames fall to the ground, but Austin snaps back, and they quickly start trading blows until it turns into a fucking brawl on my bedroom floor.
Blood splatters across the carpet, but it’s impossible to tell who it’s coming from. This isn’t how this was supposed to go down. I knew Austin would be angry, but I thought we’d be able to talk it out. Not this.
Realizing they’re not planning on stopping anytime soon, I peel myself off the ground and hobble toward them, pain throbbing in my cheek. They’re not fucking teenagers anymore. They’re almost thirty. They can’t be doing this shit.
Moving closer to them, I try to grab Izaac to separate them, but it’s no use, not even when Dad rushes in behind me, shoves me out of the way, and grabs Austin. Mom cries, rushing to my side and looking over my face as Dad roars. “What the fuck is going on in here?”
The sound of his demand seems to sober everybody as the boys finally fall apart, both of them heaving for air, and as for the blood splattered on the ground, now that they’re broken apart, it clearly belongs to both of them.
Horror pulses through me, and I go to move toward Izaac, but his haunted stare leaves me rooted in the spot. “Somebody better start talking,” Dad demands.
“He’s fucking her,” Austin spits as he gets to his feet, wiping the back of his arm across his blood-soaked face. He glares at Izaac, watching his every last move as he grips his ribs and gets to his feet, the look in his eye confirming exactly what he just said.
“It’s not like that,” Izaac insists as Dad sucks in a shocked gasp, but Izaac doesn’t take his eyes off Austin’s. “Just give me a chance to—”
