Her food bowl is empty. I grab the Preston boxers he’d given me the night before and tug them on, collecting the bowl from the floor. Her head lifts, nose twitching at the sight of it in my hand. “Let me go see if I can find you some more tuna.”
Securing them in the bathroom, I enter the hallway, trying to remember how to get down to the kitchen. Left or right? This place is so big it’s like a maze. Other than a door across from his, Sebastian seems to have an entire wing of the house to himself. I peer into that open door when I walk toward a staircase. The room smells like expensive, musky cologne, the kind that burns my nostrils when I inhale. The walls are painted deep blue and the furniture is a heavy, dark wood. On the floor is a pile of clothing, spilling out of a half-emptied duffle bag. Over the massive, king-sized bed, is a flag emblazoned with an image of a devil with the words, Preston Prep Swim Devils, underneath. Three empty beer bottles crowd the bedside table.
Heston’s room, I assume.
And from the looks of the unmade bed, he’d spent some time in here.
Very recently.
The realization makes my skin prickle, knowing how much he and Sebastian don’t get along. I glance back at Bass’s room, wondering if I should go back inside, but Abby does need some food, and honestly, it’s freaking me out that Sebastian is missing. That he left me here in this strange place all alone, after...
Maybe something is wrong.
I make the decision and continue down the hallway. I take the steps slowly, warily, the scent of pancake batter and butter wafting up the staircase. My steps falter when I hear voices below.
“So?” a guy asks, his voice deeper than Sebastian’s.
“So what?” Bass replies, voice flat and low.
“Don’t be dense.” The other guy sounds mean, taunting. “Who’s the girl you were banging headboards with all night? All the noise coming out of there, she sounded like a screamer.”
I practically feel my own face pale at the realization we hadn’t been as alone as we thought last night. Did he really hear us?
“Jesus, shut the fuck up.” Even from a distance I can hear the fury building in his tone. “It’s none of your business.”
The guy hums, like maybe he’s considering it. If he does, he quickly discards the idea. “I don’t think I will. Bringing a chick home? Not your usual MO, baby bro.” He’s interrupted by the sizzle of the frying pan. “Don’t tell me you even let your precious mommy meet her, because that really would be a first.”
The truth is that he hadn’t. He mentioned her. He talked about her a lot, but seemed careful—maybe too careful—to keep me away from that side of the house. I hadn’t thought much of it at the time, figuring he just didn’t want to disturb her, but now it feels like an intentional avoidance.
“Hes,” Bass says, voice painfully tight, “I don’t know why the fuck you’re home right now, but trust me, had I known you’d be here, I never would have brought anyone.”
“Hiding her from me? Why? Is she ugly? Stupid? Is she poor?” He drags out the last one.
“She’s just a friend,” Sebastian barks out.
I press a hand to my lower belly, still able to feel the lingering sensation of him inside of me from the night before. That’s twice now he’s introduced me as a ‘friend.’ Once to Liesel and now to Heston. Not at all to his mother. I know in my heart, my soul, that we’re definitely more than friends. He said he loved me. My mind spirals, thinking back to how he only told me that before or after we fooled around, each time breaking my barriers a little bit more.
“You make friends breakfast after fucking them? I don’t think so.” Heston laughs. “Afraid she’ll see me and want a real man instead of some jacked-up pretty boy, like Sydney did?”
I grip the railing, face twisting in confusion. Sydney? Rakestraw?
Bass’s laugh is like barbed wire. “You’re so fucking deluded. You and Syd deserve each other. I bet you didn’t even delete that video of you fucking her like a ragdoll.”
“Why would I? Our faces aren’t even in it, and Sydney knows her place in our relationship.”
“Relationship?” Bass asks, voice getting louder, more irate. “Everything you say is bullshit, Heston. You’re not in a relationship with Sydney, you’re in some kind of abusive, twisted, manipulative flirting-with-prison situation that’s not going to end well for either of you. You’re just too fucking sadistic to give a shit.”
I blink, heart pounding in my ears, and ease down the stairs, getting to a place where I can see the two of them. Bass is standing over the industrial-sized range, pouring dollops of pancake batter on a large griddle. His movements are oddly brittle, automatic. There’s a plate of burned pancakes pushed to the side, and a smudge of flour across his forehead. Despite the domestic look of it all, his shoulders are tight, face set like stone.
Heston leans against the counter with his legs crossed at the ankles, watching his brother closely. “This whole diversionary tactic is bush league. Tell me about the girl.” His voice makes a shiver of fear crawl up my spine. Not a question, but a slow, threatening demand.
Sebastian cuts him a look, hand gripping the spatula. “Stay out of my fucking business.” Now that I can see him, I realize that he’s not just pissed off. He’s nervous. When he goes to flip a pancake, his hand is clearly shaking.
“You’re the one who brought her home,” Heston reasons, shrugging. “It’s not like I barged into your dorm and sniffed her down like a dog. You delivered her, right here to my doorstep.”
“I told you, I had no idea you’d be here.”
His brother just continues, “It’s probably a good thing I came. You’ve been ignoring my texts about next weekend, but now…?”
Sebastian seems to shed some of the pretense, gripping the edge of the counter with both hands, back swelling with his breaths. “I won’t be there.”
“Hm,” Heston says, head tilting as he observes his brother. “Why don’t I just go up and see her for myself?”
In an instant, Sebastian is in front of him, nostrils flared wide. “You go near her and I swear to fucking god, Heston…”
Heston laughs, seemingly happy to get such a rise out of his brother. It dies out on a long sigh. “See? You’ve been out of action for too long. You need it. We both know you do. You need to imagine they’re all me, because that’s as close as you ever get to beating me.”
The air around Sebastian crackles like an impending lightning strike. Fear ricochets through me and I stumble down the step unthinkingly.
Heston’s eyes whip to mine, and he’s frozen for the briefest moment before his face splits into a wide, overjoyed grin. “Well, well, well, look who came to say hello.”
I can see Sebastian stiffen, turning his head just enough to see me. When he does, his eyes slide closed, shoulders deflating. He mutters a low, “Fuck.”
Heston’s laugh rings out again as he slides away from his brother, inspecting me. “Holy shit, dude! She’s in your clothes and everything! Look at her, she’s so…” He raises his hands, gesturing to me, “small.” He tells Sebastian, “Gotta level with you, baby bro, I didn’t really think this whole trashy goth look was your vibe, but hey. I don’t judge.”