Apathy by L.K. Reid

Skylar

Swollen blue eyes stared back at me from the mirror, as I stood in front of the sink in the bathroom, trying to wash the blood from my hands. But just like in the forest, no matter how hard I scrubbed, or how many times I used the soap, I still felt dirty, violated, and scared. The smell of the pine trees and wet soil was so deeply ingrained in my brain, that even after lighting all the candles in my room, they couldn’t erase the smell.

The smell of death.

I kept thinking about Megan’s last moments and how she must have felt knowing that there was no way out. What were her last thoughts? Did she blame us for being too late to save her?

Was she conscious when that monster carved my name on her skin?

God, seeing my name there, so violently engraved, made me sick. Just thinking about it made me want to hide, get away from this place. I kept coming back to the last time I saw her in front of the Kraftmart this summer, standing with her mom, laughing at something she said.

Wasn’t it weird that only when a person died, we thought about all the things we could’ve done for them? Maybe if I had talked to her, maybe I would’ve liked her and we could’ve been friends. Maybe if she had been with us, she wouldn’t have been walking alone at night that Sunday before school started and she wouldn’t have been kidnapped.

But one question that kept popping up much more than the other ones was, maybe it was supposed to be me? I didn’t know any other Skylar, and the eerie resemblance the two of us shared couldn’t be missed. Whoever the killer was, they were after me. I knew they were after me.

“Sky.” The door of the bathroom rattled as Dylan knocked. “Are you okay?”

Was I okay? No, I wasn’t fucking okay.

I wasn’t seeing myself in the mirror. My eyes weren’t mine. My lips didn’t belong to my body. My hair looked exactly like hers. Blonde strands colored with red, and a lifeless face stared back at me. I was seeing her, her pleading eyes and lips forever frozen as she screamed.

But no one heard her.

“Skylar!” Dylan bellowed.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

I didn’t want him to come in. If Dylan saw this lost look on my face, he would get more concerned than he already was, and I didn’t want him to worry about me.

Yes, I went through something traumatic, but I would be okay. Right? People do this all the time, and they survive those traumatic experiences. I was alive, I was well, and I was going to forget about her haunting blue eyes and the violence spreading through that forest.

But I was lying to myself, and I knew it.

I was a good liar, good at pretending that everything was okay when nothing was. Nothing was ever going to be okay, because seeing her like that—her young life extinguished before it could even start—reminded me of Zane, and it felt as if my insides started burning again with the pain I was trying to forget.

No, no, I couldn’t deal with this shit. I talked the good talk, but when it came to facing reality, I was a chickenshit who couldn’t comprehend what was happening. I knew what monsters looked like—they’re pretty faces, pretty smiles, charming fucking bastards, living in the perfect skin.

But when you knew what the monster looked like, you could survive. This time… This time I didn’t know who the monster was. And worst of all, what if the monster isn’t on the street? What if the monster is in the mirror?

What if I was to blame for her death? After all, whoever killed her might have been after me.

Fuck, fuck, fuck… What if somebody knew about Zane and our involvement in it? What if somebody was playing a game with all of us? But who?

My phone kept buzzing on the sink, the incoming messages and calls all going unanswered and unopened. I couldn’t deal with people right now. I should check on Lauren, but I didn’t have it in me to be social anymore today. The rest of the guys probably found out what had happened by now, and I was sure they were the ones trying to reach me.

But I was tired—tired of people, tired of tragedies, tired of living the life I hated. I just wanted to disappear, to get away from here, to forget about Winworth and everything that has happened here.

I looked at the small stand with drawers next to the sink, knowing what was inside. Knowing that it could help me forget, at least for a little while. I was getting too dependent on these pills, but I didn’t know how to deal with reality and everything that was going on around me. I didn’t know how to be present and save my mind at the same time.

So, I pulled the first drawer open and took out a small burgundy box holding all my hair ties and clips I used to use as a kid. No one would ever look in here, and it was the perfect place to hide the small bag Lauren gave me three months ago.

I hadn’t needed to use it before, because we always hung out together, and either she or Kane always brought what I needed. And if it wasn’t them, then he always had what I needed to get through the night.

My hands shook as I opened the lid and threw the colorful hair ties on the top of the stand, followed by the pins I never really used anymore. The colors were a stark contrast to what was going on through my head, through my body and my heart. They were the reminder of a time when I was just a little girl, wearing rose-colored glasses and believing that the world was a happy place. I wished someone had told me earlier that the world wanted nothing more than to destroy us.

I wished I knew what was going to happen to me, to my friends, because then I would’ve been prepared. Then my mind wouldn’t be such a fucked-up mess like it was now. I could feel my heart beating rapidly, echoing in my ears. Sweat gathered above my upper lip as anticipation started building inside my veins.

The rush of calm was what I needed. A quiet place for my mind and nothingness that followed, that was the high I always chased. Drugs that made my heart race, that made me feel happy, those weren’t the drugs I needed right now. I wanted to quiet the demons whispering in my ear.

I wanted to stop eyeing the razor on the bathtub, calling me, whispering that everything was going to be okay if I picked it up and sliced it through my skin. I didn’t need any more scars, and I didn’t want any more blood.

Not today.

Removing the paper hiding the bag, I stared at it, the ten white pills calling my name. Everything was going to be okay now. I was going to be okay now.

I took the bag out and threw the box on the floor, the sound of the impact echoing in the silent bathroom. My phone kept buzzing, my heart kept thundering, but my attention was on the plastic bag in my hand and the oblivion that was about to come.

Oxy.

A sweet temptation, sweet oblivion, and devastation. I was warned that Oxy often led to heroin use, but I didn’t give a fuck at this point. I just wanted to forget, and if swallowing two or three or four of these could help me today, so be it.

I filled the glass standing on the sink with water, and sat down, leaning against the door. My entire body shook, anticipating what was about to come, knowing the effects, craving the release in this form. I untied the knot on the bag, and took out three of them, placing them on my palm.

Last time Lauren and I did Oxy together, we took two each, but this time I didn’t have alcohol to amplify the effects.

The bitterness exploded in my mouth as I placed them on my tongue. Taking the glass filled with water, I pressed it to my lips and gulped down, feeling the three pills traveling down my throat to my stomach.

Now I just had to wait.

“Skylar!” The door rattled against my back as Dylan started knocking, sounding angry. “I swear to fucking God, Sky. If you don’t get out of there, I’m gonna break down the door and come get you myself.”

Perfect Dylan. Always the savior, always the favorite one.

Our mother never failed to remind me what a fuckup I was, and how I could never be as perfect as Dylan. But it wasn’t his fault our mother hated her younger child.

“Sky,” he started again when I didn’t answer. His voice was barely a whisper, a plea, begging me. “Please, Little One. I’m getting worried about you.”

I wanted to get up and get out of the bathroom. I couldn’t be here when the drugs started working, but I was too tired. My body felt sore, and I could barely move my legs now that I was sitting.

I tried. God, I tried.

Pushing the glass further away from me, I put the bag with the remaining pills inside my pocket and started pushing myself off the ground. The headache that was threatening to explode in my head finally reared its ugly face, and as my temples throbbed, and my eyes started misting, I knew I was going to be extremely fucked when the drugs started working.

At least I wouldn’t feel any pain. I wouldn’t feel anything.

“Goddammit, Skylar.” I could hear the frustration in his voice. “What are you doing in there?”

I finally managed to push myself up, and as I opened the door, I came face-to-face with him.

“Dying.” I laughed. “I had to use the toilet, Dy.” I pushed past him, keeping the smile on my face.

“You were using the toilet for an hour and a half?” he asked just as I dropped on the bed.

God, my muscles throbbed both from that goddamn hike and from the fall. I couldn’t have Dylan here when the Oxy finally hit. I could already feel it spreading through my body as I started getting drowsier. Just a little bit longer and the memories of her pale face and that fucking stench would finally be gone.

At least for a couple of hours.

“I didn’t know we were now counting how many hours we need to be using toilets for.” I smirked, but he didn’t look amused. If anything, Dylan looked pissed, and I hated it.

His hands went to his hips as he kept staring at me. The usually styled blond hair was now disheveled, the strands falling over his forehead. His icy blue eyes narrowed, and jaw clenched, but he didn’t say a word. He still hadn’t changed from the black pants he wore earlier and the white button-down shirt. The only difference was the rolled-up sleeves resting at his elbows.

I knew he could see right through me, through these fake smiles and the cheery personality, but I was tired of him worrying about me. First with Zane, now with this, it was too much. I wasn’t his responsibility even though he acted more like a parent than our mother did.

Our father, Judah Blackwood, was mostly gone, spending the majority of his time in Seattle. As a senator and a CEO of the company my great-great-grandfather founded, he had to be there. I was just pissed that we had to stay here, while both he and Dylan lived over there. I hated spending time with our mother when they were around, not to mention when they weren’t.

I never really understood what made her resent me, and I didn’t ask. Sometimes lies were better than the truth because we could believe in whatever we wanted. Sometimes pretending that everything was all right was a better way to live than to think about every single wrong thing that was waiting for us.

Dylan took one step forward, then two and then three, until he was standing in front of my bed, hovering over me.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked, feigning innocence he could easily see through. Focusing on him and his eyes, his smell and his clothes helped to remove the images of the gruesome scene I witnessed today. As my body started relaxing, my muscles losing the strain, I felt happier than before.

I knew it was a temporary happiness. A temporary fix to a million problems I had, but it was better than having to live through the nightmare tonight. My room was mostly shrouded in darkness, softly illuminated only by the lone lamp in the corner of my room.

“Dylan?” I asked again, breaking the silence. “Come on.” I straightened up, holding myself up on my hands. “You can’t really—”

But I didn’t manage to finish the sentence, because in the next moment, Dylan was on the bed with me, pulling me onto his lap, and hugging me to his body. His arms wrapped around me, holding tight, and his head disappeared into my hair, hiding him away from me.

“Hey.” I pulled one arm out and started rubbing his back. “What’s wrong with you?”

Instead of an answer, I received an even stronger hug, until one of his hands sneaked into my hair at the nape of my neck, pressing my face into his shoulder.

“Dy,” I mumbled, my voice muffled by the soft fabric of his shirt. It smelled like him, like home.

That’s what Dylan always was for me. Home. The only one that cared enough to understand my mind and everything I was going through.

“As much as I missed you and as much as I like this after the shit that has happened today, you’re scaring me.”

Soft lips pressed against my cheek, then my temple, until he reached my forehead, holding them there for a moment. He started dragging his hands through the strands of my hair and slowly untangling it. I moved my own hand to his hair and started playing with the short strands at the back of his head, moving to the top of his head, where he kept his hair longer.

“I would never forgive myself if something happened to you,” he started in a strained voice. “Never.”

“Dylan,” I whispered. “You had nothing to do with this. Whoever did it… I don’t know, they must be sick.”

His eyes flashed with something unfamiliar, but as fast as it appeared, it also disappeared, replaced by the soft look he always had for me.

“I know, Little One. I know I had nothing to do with this, but I wasn’t here. I wasn’t here to protect you.”

“You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

Still dragging his hand through my hair, he simply nodded and kept quiet while he continued looking at me. The hand I had on his hair dropped down as my body started experiencing all the effects I was waiting for. This happiness that was coursing through me was a lie, but it was a lie I wouldn’t mind living.

The anxiety I felt before started dissipating, and as my head fell onto his shoulder, he started moving us toward the headboard of my bed, still holding me close to him. A smile played on my lips, but as the vertigo started dancing around my head, I let my eyes close, placing my hands against his chest.

“You need to change, Little One,” he murmured against my hair. “And you need to take a shower.”

I did. I knew I needed to do both of those things, but the pain in my shoulders started spreading over my back, connecting with my bruised ribs. The hammering in my head quieted down as the pills took over, but I didn’t want to move.

“Later,” I murmured. “I’ll do everything later.”

But he didn’t listen to me.

Softly pushing me away, he laid me down on the bed, and stood up. I could hear him walking through the room, the opening of the wardrobe as its doors squealed, and the rustling of fabric. I wanted to open my eyes. I wanted to get up, but instead of fighting the sleep slowly creeping up on me, I gave up.

Warm hands touched my stomach, slowly, slowly, pulling the shirt I wore up, reaching my chest. A giggle escaped from me, vibrating through my chest, as Dylan pressed his palms on either side of my waist, finding that hidden spot that always made me squirm and laugh.

“Dy,” I laughed. “What are you doing?”

He tickled me again, laughing with me. “Changing you of course.” Still keeping my eyes closed, I felt it when the fabric came to my chin, and I lifted my arms above my head. “Can you lift yourself up?” he asked in a hoarse voice. This entire day was no doubt stressful for him as well, and I obeyed, inching my upper body higher. The shirt slid over my head, my arms, and with a soft thud, hit the floor as Dylan threw it somewhere in the room.

“You are my sunshine,” I started singing as he moved down to my pants, unbuttoning them. “My only sunshine…” The sound of the zipper being lowered mixed with my voice. “You make me happy…” I lifted my butt and Dylan started pulling my pants down, goosebumps following his movements as my skin became exposed to the chilly air in the room. “When skies are gray,” I choked out when he finally removed the pants from my legs.

“Shhh,” he soothed me, his hands roaming over my legs, landing on my knees. “Everything is going to be okay.”

I nodded—at least I think I did, when his hands disappeared, and the sudden drumming of my heart I didn’t expect made me open my eyes, looking for him.

“Dylan?” He stood in front of the wardrobe, his back turned to me, the strong set of his shoulders hunched down as he held something in his hands. “Come back to bed,” I slurred, my words echoing in the room. “Please.”

He turned around, his face contorted with fear, with worry, with all the unspoken things he didn’t want to burden me with. I patted the spot next to me, inviting him back.

In two long strides, he was next to the bed, holding a shirt I haven’t seen in ages in his hands.

“Is that…?”

“Your SpongeBob shirt.” A small smile played on his lips. “Remember when I brought this?”

“How could I ever forget?” How could I forget that he bought it for me, while traveling through the country with his friends?

“Arms up,” he instructed, holding the shirt up. I complied, lifting my arms above my head, and he slid the shirt over, letting it fall over my body. I pushed the shirt on my back, up, and unclasped the bra biting into my skin, pulling away the straps through the sleeves of the shirt and throwing it to the side.

I could feel his eyes on me as I moved back toward the headboard. When the mattress dropped under his weight, I closed my eyes, and turned to my left, inch by inch, climbing over him.

The soft fabric of the comforter came around my shoulders as he pulled it over us, and I nuzzled my face against him, letting the smell of fabric softener, cinnamon, and apples comfort me. To let me believe that everything was going to be okay.

“Don’t leave me, Dylan. Please don’t leave me.”

His hands tightened around my shoulders as he settled down, keeping my body draped over his.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he croaked. “I’ll always be here.”

Good, I wanted to say, but it was as if my mind and my mouth weren’t in sync anymore, and instead of trying to talk more, I let myself fall into the sweet oblivion, knowing that he was going to be here to keep the demons at bay.

If I had my brother, I didn’t need anything else.

* * *

I had no idea how long I was asleep for, but when the loud voices woke me up from my peaceful slumber, I knew it was longer than I initially planned for it to be.

The morning sun was illuminating my room, and as I turned around looking for my phone, I realized I was alone. Dylan must have gotten up before me. The clock on the phone showed eight in the morning, and my eyes widened, remembering the time we came back yesterday and how long I had been asleep for.

I slept for almost fourteen hours, when usually I wasn’t able to get more than four hours during the night.

Doors slammed in the distance, and I pulled myself up, slowly stretching my body and wincing as the pain ricocheted from my lower back, through my entire body.

“Fuck,” I moaned as I threw the comforter off of me, and slowly stood up and walked toward the mirror in the corner of the room. The jeans I wore yesterday were haphazardly thrown on the floor next to my wardrobe, and the white SpongeBob shirt I had on definitely wasn’t the one I wore yesterday.

“Of course.” I slapped myself on the forehead. Dylan changed me last night, just before we went to sleep.

I turned around and started lifting the shirt, only to be welcomed with an angry-looking bruise, slowly turning purple at my lower back.

“Shit.”

I thought that the soreness I felt last night was only a temporary issue, but as I walked to the bathroom, I knew that wasn’t the case. My head still throbbed, probably both from that slip yesterday and the amount of sleep I got.

“You can’t fucking go there!” Dylan’s voice traveled through the house, and I rushed to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. My heart thundered inside my chest, and Megan’s lifeless eyes flashed in front of me.

“No, no, no,” I moaned and gripped the sides of the sink. The glass I left yesterday was still on the floor, and the hair ties were still scattered over the stand next to the sink. “This can’t be fucking happening.”

But as I looked up, taking in my disheveled appearance, the gruesome pictures kept filtering through my mind, reminding me of the sickening scene in the forest.

No, I couldn’t let this happen.

I turned to the bathtub and turned the water on, letting it fall freely, as I stood there, transfixed, watching it disappear into the drain. I didn’t have time to take a bath, and if I wanted to make it to school today, I had to be quick.

I pressed the switch to direct the water flow into the shower head and took off my panties and t-shirt. The steam started filling the bathroom, playing around me. When the first stream of water hit my body as I stepped into the bathtub, I started feeling more like a human than the corpse we found yesterday.

Knocking sounded on the door, but I didn’t answer as I kept the shower head above me, letting the water wash over my hair, my entire body, ridding me momentarily of the filthy feeling I was enveloped in. I washed my face, my body, and after soaping myself and washing it all again, I turned the water off and slowly took a step outside the bathtub, careful not to slip on the tiles.

My lower back ached, and I would have to ask Dylan to put some cooling gel on it. I just hoped it wasn’t anything serious because I wasn’t up to another visit to the doctor this year. Those two days after the fire in May were enough to last me a lifetime.

I wrapped a towel around my body after dragging it through my hair, and unlocked the door, stepping inside my room.

Only the room wasn’t empty, and a boy—a man—I least expected to see today was sitting on my bed, staring at the bookshelf on the opposite wall.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I bellowed, anger taking over my body. He had no fucking right to be here.

Ash turned around, his eyes lazily going from my naked legs, over the towel hiding the important parts of my body, to my face.

“Good morning to you too.” He smirked.

After the crypt and the mess at Lauren’s house, I avoided Ash like the plague. If he was in the room, I would walk out. If he was in the cafeteria with the rest of the guys, I would eat in the garden. The only place where I couldn’t avoid him were classes, but I was trying.

It also didn’t help that every single person kept bringing him up during our conversations. And then there was Kane, who went from being obsessive to straight out deranged, starting that night at Lauren’s place.

He was high, angry, hurt, reminded of his brother and what happened in May, and instead of talking like a normal human being, he wanted to drag me with him. He started asking about Ash—if I liked him, if I wanted to fuck him, and I knew that there was no use arguing with him when he was like that. And I would’ve handled it if Ash didn’t interfere, angering him even more.

And when Kane attacked him, I didn’t think. I jumped on him, knocking him to the ground. Needless to say, I was embarrassed over the entire situation and Ash getting involved. No matter how much my body wanted to feel that electricity whenever we touched, he was wrong for me, and I was wrong for him.

I hated that my own body was betraying me in his presence, while he seemed cool and collected, without a care in the world.

“I asked you a question, Ash.” My body trembled, both from the remnants of the drugs and his presence.

“Your brother is an asshole,” he said as he stood up, again perusing me from head to toe. “I came here to see if you’re okay, since you obviously forgot how to use your phone.”

“I didn’t forget. I just didn’t want to answer.”

He came closer and closer until the tips of his boots started touching my toes.

“Hmm,” he grunted and took one wet strand of my hair, pulling it to his face. His eyes closed as he inhaled and exhaled. “Vanilla.”

“Ash.” I took a step backward. “What are you doing here? I’m not gonna ask again.” I looked at the closed door of my room, wondering where Dylan was.

“He let me in, Skylar. Don’t try to run away.”

His fingers started dancing over my skin, right above the line where the towel stopped. With feathery touches, he dragged his hand from the column of my throat, to the breastbone, teasing me, drawing me closer into his embrace.

I could almost taste the danger he brought with him. I knew his type, all too well. I knew it because his type was what I always went for.

Dark, dangerous, and toxic.

The way he watched me, the way he touched me, it all held the promise of the sweet violence my body craved. I wanted pain because I wanted oblivion. I wanted drugs because I wanted to forget.

I wanted to stop feeling, because the turmoil in my gut was too much to deal with. I was drawn to him.

I didn’t know why or how, but it was as if the light switch was turned on inside, and I craved the fire he carried in his eyes. But I had to remember the things I needed to do, the things I promised to deliver. I could already feel the pain I would be in if I didn’t or if I misbehaved.

“You’ve been ignoring me, darling.” He leaned down until his lips were a whisper away from mine. “And I hate being ignored.”

“Ash,” I protested, but it sounded more like a moan, and it was all it took for him to press his lips to mine and to push me to the wall.

My lower back protested as he pressed his body to mine. As his hands sneaked around my neck, holding me tight, his teeth clamped on my lower lip, pulling a moan from my chest. His other hand went underneath the towel, traveling over my thigh, until he reached my hip and pulled my leg up, wrapping it around him.

He pulled back and started rubbing his thumb over my lower lip as my breathing became erratic. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think, and just when I thought he was going to pull away, he leaned down again, his sleek tongue seeking entrance. Our teeth knocked against each other as I finally opened my mouth, letting him in. I wrapped my arm around his neck, pressing our chests together.

A familiar fire burned at the pit of my stomach, and as he held my leg around his hip, I started rotating my hips, seeking friction, trying to feed the need spreading throughout my body.

“Ash,” I moaned in his mouth. “We can’t—”

He cut me off with another kiss, pulling, biting, kissing, soothing, driving me wild. His other hand disappeared underneath the towel, and when his fingers finally touched the skin of my lower stomach, I was ready to combust.

“God—”

“God has nothing to do with this, Skylar.” He smirked. He pressed his thumb against my clit, sending shock waves of pleasure throughout my body. “There’s only me.”

He bit down on my collarbone as he dragged his other finger from my opening to my clit, teasing me.

“Please,” I cried out.

“Please what?” His teeth clamped on my neck, followed by his lips as he soothed the spot.

“Please fuck me with your fingers.”

I didn’t have to ask twice. As his lips landed on mine, his two fingers entered me, pressing on the sweet spot inside my pussy.

“Holy fucking shit.” I started moving my hips, crazy with need and desire.

“That’s it. Use my fingers.”

And I did. I swiveled my hips while he held his fingers there, at the same time kissing me, biting me, leaving his marks over my body. He suddenly started moving, quickening the pace of his fingers, and as the familiar burn started, I started moving more, seeking more, asking for the release.

“Do you want to come, Skylar?” His eyes flashed with unspoken desire as he asked. The midnight blue was barely visible from his enlarged irises.

“Yes!” I screamed.

He slowed down, grinning the entire time. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

“Good girl.” His words registered in my brain, but I was too far gone to care about anything else but the friction of his fingers over my clit and inside my body. I needed more, more, more, and as if reading my mind, he pressed harder on my clit, and entered me with a third finger.

He stretched me wide, pain swirling in my brain with pleasure, and I was—

“Oh. My. God. Ash!”

“Shhh.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “We don’t want your brother to know what a dirty girl you are.”

“Please. I’m begging you.” My entire body was trembling, preparing for the eruption.

He brushed against the same spot again, and the moan erupted from my chest, caught by his lips. He devoured me, ate me alive, and I allowed it because this was better than what I did to myself last night. This high was better than what drugs could ever give me.

In and out, his fingers kept pummeling. When my eyes started rolling to the back of my head, he increased the pressure, until the sweet eruption I was chasing tore through my body, shaking me from head to toe. He kissed me, catching the moans threatening to spill over my lips, muffling them as I shook in his hands.

“Skylar?” Dylan’s voice suddenly echoed around the room, as he started knocking on the door. “Why is the door locked?” he asked, and I threw an accusatory look at Ash.

He smiled as he removed his hand from me and licked his fingers.

“He doesn’t know you’re here?” I whispered, afraid that Dylan would hear us.

“Skylar?” Dylan knocked again. “Is everything okay in there?”

“Y-Yeah,” I croaked. “I just had a shower. Give me a second.”

Silence and then, “Breakfast is ready. Just hurry up.”

“Will do!” I answered, trying to calm my racing heart.

I turned to Ash who took a step back and sat on my bed.

“What the fuck, Ash?” I tightened the towel around my body, suddenly feeling shy in his presence. “How did you get up here?”

“Balcony.” He pointed to the open door, leading to my balcony. “I must say, I like this whole hide-and-seek.”

“There’s no hide-and-seek, you asshole.” I walked to the sliding door leading to the balcony, remembering that it had definitely been closed before I went to the bathroom. He was suddenly behind me, leaving a blazing inferno on my skin as his fingers traced the path from my shoulder to my hand.

“No? Then why don’t we go downstairs, and I could have breakfast with you and your brother.”

“Ash.” My voice shook. “You need to go.”

“And what if I don’t want to?” he asked, turning me around. “What if I want to play?”

“Ash—”

He lowered his head, pressing his lips against my pulse. “What.” Kiss. “If.” Bite. “I want to.” Suck. “Stay here with you?”

My body tingled everywhere he touched, and I fought against this attraction I felt toward him.

“No.” I pushed him away. “We can’t do this.”

The playful smirk he wore earlier disappeared, replaced by a wicked smile and the promise of retribution in his eyes.

“We’ll see about that.” He came closer and placed a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll see you later. Have fun with your brother.”

He exited through the sliding door, taking away all the warmth I’d been feeling with him.

What in the ever-loving fuck was that?