I have never felt more alive or more exhausted. I could curl up into a ball and sleep for a week. Zander has made me completely boneless. Can sex actually do that? Should I be worried that I’m just draped over him?
Our chests heave from our panting. Zander still feels hard inside me, but for whatever reason, I don’t feel awkward or weird about what just happened. We both needed that, and I can’t bring myself to regret it or to begin to overthink it.
Sometimes sex is just sex. And when it is as incredible as that just was, you would be a fool to wish it never happened. I will be reliving this moment for the rest of my life.
“You okay?” he finally huffs out as he lifts me off him and steadies me on the ground.
I nod, leaning against the door, finding myself slick with sweat. We both are.
“Are you sure?” he asks again, obviously needing a verbal answer.
“Yeah. Are you?”
“I just had the most incredible sex of my life, so yeah, I’m fucking great,” he responds.
I smile huge at his words, glad to know he feels the same way.
“What’s it with us and bathrooms today?” I ask, not even bothering to care that we are in a lit bathroom and both completely naked. Usually, I would be more self-conscious.
“I don’t know, but I can’t wait to break in the one at my place,” he mutters, moving his hand to rest over the side of my neck, propping my chin up with his thumb so I’m looking directly at him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“Honestly, I orgasmed so hard I can’t feel a damn thing right now, except pleasure.”
He grins big as he leans down and gives me a chaste kiss on the lips. “I’m fucking glad you’re alive.”
The moment turns serious.
I grab his free hand and entwine my fingers with his, squeezing. “I’m glad we’re both alive.”
There is something surreal about this moment. We are two people who are completely naked, standing in a bathroom of a house we have only been inside of for not even half an hour, and we just had incredible sex.
Sex doesn’t always have to be about intimacy, and the sex we just engaged in isn’t something I would classify as intimate. It was feral, desperate, insatiable. But this moment right now, naked and talking about how we feel, this feels intimate.
I like that. I like that we can have that with each other. I have never felt this with another person.
“We should get cleaned up.”
I nod.
As he turns away to dispose of the condom, I see the mess that is his back. “You should get this looked at, or at least get some tweezers so we can try to clear out some of the glass.”
“I’m sure Sasha has a first-aid kit somewhere. Let’s shower first. I’ll keep my back out of the water.”
I can’t argue with that suggestion.
My core clenches at just the thought of another round with Zander, but he is a perfect gentleman as we both stand under the spray of warm water. Well, okay, he isn’t exactly a gentleman. Some fingers might brush me and linger in certain places. And, okay, I am no lady as I tease him mercilessly. Mostly we just make out.
How cool is that? I have never made out with anyone in the shower before. I always thought it would be awkward and water would probably go up my nose or unexpectedly blind me as it pelts down into my eyes or something like that. None of that happens, though.
It’s nice, easy, and it’s fun.
Then, as soon as I’m redressed and Zander has pants on, a smirking Sasha finds a first-aid kit, and then we both work on getting the glass out of his back.
This is not nice, not easy, and definitely not fun for any of us. Thankfully, the cuts are all small and none look like they need stitches.
Forty minutes later, Sasha tosses me a damp flannel to wipe away the remaining blood while she stands in front of Zander with her hands on her hips.
“The police are going to start calling us soon. They’ll need you to make a statement. Hell, we need you to make a statement so we can try to sort out what insurance we have.”
“I know,” he grumbles, wincing when I cover a particularly sore spot.
“And they’re going to want to know why you left the scene of a crime. You really should have waited for them to come,” she continues, pestering him.
“I couldn’t do that,” he answers quietly.
Sasha spares me a look and a small smile. “I know. But now they’re safe here, so you need to get on this. The sooner you sort this mess out, the sooner we can get back to normal.”
“He’s just been blown up, Sasha!” I remind her, the evidence of his blood right in front of me. The bruises over him will be in front of her in clear view. “He needs to rest.”
“Look, Ava, you’re his home wife, and you’re the one who should be concerned with his well-being. I get that you gotta say that, but I’m his work wife, and I get to boss him around to make sure he keeps this moving and his little work kids get paid. So, while he does need to rest, he also needs to sort this shit out.”
“Home wife?” I murmur, torn between being embarrassed and insulted.
“You’re my work wife?” Zander snorts. “Well, you got the nagging down packed.”
“Don’t give me attitude, or I’ll make sure your home wife withholds sex. We’re best friends, you know,” she says with such a serious face that I drop the flannel in shock.
Did she really just say that?
“Fuck, Sasha, can you hear yourself?” Zander shakes his head, standing up and grabbing a clean T-shirt she left out for him, not that his cuts have stopped bleeding enough for him to put it on yet. “Whatever. I’ll go down and speak to the cops; get this sorted.”
“What if they try to hurt you again?” I quickly speak up, frowning when he places the shirt on and likely ruins another shirt. At least it is dark-colored so the blood won’t be obvious.
“They won’t. I don’t even know if I was a target. Since I’ve had Van, I’ve never gone into the office on a Saturday. I think the chances are they were planning on bombing it because they knew it would be empty and figured they’d likely destroy any evidence we might have in there.”
“Chances are? What if your chances are wrong? What if they were watching you? They might have waited for us to be separated. What would they have done if they got to your apartment and found you there?”
“There were at least three of them, according to your phone call. I imagine those three were to incapacitate me, help quickly search the apartment, and take you with them.” He says this so calmly that it makes my body shake in anger.
“And what would they have done with Van?”
Finally, his detached façade dissolves. “If they even thought of laying one finger on him …” Zander shakes his head and moves away from us, pacing a little.
“Surely, they would be stupid to take you out,” Sasha interjects. “There will be too many witnesses. I think the more likely scenario is they might try to frame you for it—insurance fraud or something like that. The longer you are hidden away, the more suspicious you look. Cooperating with them is the best way.”
“She’s right,” Zander says to me.
“You can’t go anywhere without seeing Van first. He’ll probably freak out if he wakes up and you’re gone.”
He nods, agreeing with that at least.
“I’ve never seen him like that. I don’t think he’s ever hugged me since he decided I was an asshole, which was probably scarily early for a kid. He definitely never freaked out like that when our parents died,” Zander murmurs as he places a jacket over his new bloodied shirt.
“You said he tore up your office and ran out into oncoming traffic,” I remind him.
“Well, yeah, but he was running away from me.”
“And this time he thought you were the one he lost, so he ran to you. Like it or not, you’re his only family, and no matter how much he might tell you he hates you, he also loves you. You’re his brother, and he would be devastated to lose you
,” I tell him, perhaps just a tiny bit trying to place a little guilt over him in the hopes he will decide to stay here, even if it is just for Van’s sake.
Zander nods, resting his hand on the back of his neck as the weight of what happened today bears down on him again. “I’ll say goodbye to him now. Have Joey meet me at the wreckage in case they do try to arrest me. He can get me a lawyer if I need it. And get me Ken’s number. I need to move up the drop off and warn him he might be in trouble.”
Sasha nods, getting to work on her tasks.
I follow Zander as he makes his way back to Van’s room, only to find Van tossing and turning in his bed.
“Hey, buddy.” Zander sits next to him and gently shakes him awake.
“Don’t go!” he cries out, waking just afterward then leaping into Zander’s arms when he sees who is there.
“You’re okay. You’re safe,” Zander coos.
I step out into the hallway, wanting to give them privacy. However, because the house is so quiet and the door is left open, their voices easily carry, and I can’t bring myself to walk farther away out of earshot.
“I dreamt … I saw …”
“Just a nightmare,” Zander assures him. “I’m here, and I’m not leaving you. Well, I am, but I’ll be back later tonight.”
“You’re leaving?” There is a plea in Van’s voice that breaks my already fragile heart.
“Yes, to clear some things up. Nothing dangerous. In fact, it’s probably going to be really boring.”
“Then don’t go.”
“I have to. But I need you to do something for me.” Zander sounds unnaturally upbeat now.
“What?” Van sounds wary. He probably thinks he’s going to get stuck with the dishes or something.
“I’m leaving you with Sasha and Ava. I need you to keep an eye on them. You already know what Sasha is like, and Ava stole my car and tried to kidnap you, so you need to make sure she doesn’t eye Sasha’s car too much.”
My mouth drops open at his slander, though I suppose most of what he said is factual. When Van lets out a little laugh, I can’t be annoyed at Zander, though. It’s obvious from the smile in Zander’s voice that he’s just trying to cheer him up.
“Okay.”
“Good. And then tomorrow, I’ll make your favorite for breakfast.”
“Cool.” Van already sounds a little less distraught.
“Are you hungry now? You want a sandwich?”
“No.”
“Vaughn, are you sure? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you turn down food before.”
I think he’s trying to make things a little less heavy, but I cringe at hearing him say Vaughn. Is he trying to start a fight?
“Why do you keep calling me Vaughn? You know I hate it.” Van’s voice is quiet, not angry for once.
“I don’t get why you hate it. I’ve always called you Vaughn. Mom and Dad always called you Vaughn.”
“My friends call me Van,” he points out.
“I’m not your friend. I’m your brother.”
“We’re not friends?”
Zander is quiet for a moment. I bet he’s trying to work out how to get around this.
“We are, but I’m always your brother first. You’ll have a lot of friends in your life. I have a lot of friends. We both only have one brother.”
It’s silent for a while, and I resist the urge to pop my head around the corner to see what they are doing. Does Van look angry, or has Zander’s words gotten through? Is Zander hugging him, or has he reverted to his stern stance?
“Can you not say it when you’re angry with me?” Van’s quiet voice slowly filters to me.
“Why does that matter?”
“Because, you sound like Dad when you talk. And I don’t want him to say my name angrily. He never yelled at me. I don’t like it.”
There is an even longer pause before Zander finally breaks it, his voice sounding rough.
“Okay, I can do that. You know I sort of like saying your proper name because it reminds me of them. I can picture Mom calling you in from outside when she had dinner ready, or Dad wanting you to hurry up and get in the car when you were dragging your feet. I feel like they’re with me when I say Vaughn.”
My heart breaks for these two guys who are still so heavily grieving. I likely couldn’t have picked a worse time to drop into their lives.
“You can call me Vaughn, then,” Van finally relents, but is quick to follow his words up with, “Just not when you’re angry.”
“Okay, and maybe you can give Agnes a rest?”
Van doesn’t answer, but perhaps he gives him a nod since that seems to be sorted when Zander continues.
“You know, the obvious solution is to just never piss me off, and then I will never have to say your name in anger.”
Van snorts. “Yeah, right. You’re so old and boring that a book out of place on your shelf pisses you off.”
“Then I would think you got your work cut out for you.”
“Don’t touch my hair!” Van whines, and I hear the bedsprings creak as I assume Zander is now standing. I can picture him easily messing Van’s hair up as he’s done plenty of times in the past few weeks.
“You need a haircut, buddy. Maybe Ava can sort that out for you after all this.”
“I like my hair. I’m going to grow it out long.”
“Gonna get dreadlocks?”
“No way.”
I smile at just imagining Zander with his awful hair. Maybe Van can go as that for Halloween one year. He already is a mini-Zander. It would be creepy to see how alike he could be to the photos he showed me.
“Zander, I like Ava.”
My heartrate speeds up. I should definitely not be listening to this, but I also can’t seem to make my feet lift to take me away.
“I know.”
“Do you?” There is something in Van’s voice, a vulnerability I don’t quite understand.
“I do, buddy.”
“Are you guys together?”
There is a nerve-racking pause where I hold my breath.
“I’m just helping her out right now.”
And … I deflate right there in the hallway.
Of course he’s just helping me out. I already know this, so why do I feel disappointed?
“Then, what happens when you are finished helping her?”
“That’s between me and her for now.”
“I don’t want her to leave us.”
Well, if there is one way to keep Zander in my life, then it is probably having Van guilt him into it. Not what I want at all.
“I don’t want her to leave, either. But we can’t force her to stay if she doesn’t want to.”
He doesn’t want me to leave?
My head perks up, and my heartrate speeds up even faster until it is galloping. I’m sure I am going to have permanent heart problems after all this.
“Can’t you tell her the problem you’re fixing is going to take longer?”
“That’s not really fair to her. Look, I have to get going, and if you’re sure you’re not hungry, then I want you to get some more sleep.”
“But I’m not tired.”
“Then watch some TV until you fall asleep,” he suggests.
“You said we shouldn’t fall asleep watching TV, and that is why you have a lumpy couch.”
“I said we shouldn’t use the couch to fall asleep on when we have perfectly fine beds. You’re in bed, so this doesn’t count.”
“Can I get a TV in my bedroom?”
“No. Now I really have to go. Are you going to be okay?”
“Yes,” Van grumbles.
“You know Sasha will snitch on you if you are bad.”
“I know. She’s a tattletale. I remember from last time.”
“Just be good and keep an eye on the girls.”
I peek into the room then to see Zander giving Van a hug, which causes tears to spill over my cheeks.
I don’t know why I care so much, but seeing t
hem like this warms my heart. In fact, this whole situation has made me emotional. In the past few weeks, I have felt more than I have in years.
What is it about Zander and Van that makes me care so much? Or am I just emotional from what Brian has put me through? From what I saw and now know is on those videos?
Either way, I’m busted on listening in when I don’t even move an inch before Zander finds his way out of the room.
He grabs my arm and leads me to the next bedroom where my eyes instantly hit the open bathroom door.
“Can you keep an eye on him for me?” he asks as he cups my face.
“You think he’s still freaked from earlier?”
“I think, if a kid goes through that, it stays for a while.” He grazes his thumb over my cheeks and removes any trace of tears left.
“I’ll keep my eyes on him,” I promise.
“Thanks. I’ll be back soon. Be waiting in this bed, okay?”
I don’t get the chance to agree or disagree. Before I can blink, he is giving me a quick kiss, and before I can enjoy that sensation, he is out the door. Then I don’t even get a chance to think on that before Van is standing in his place.
“You okay?” I ask wearily, not sure what mood Van will be in.
“I’m hungry.”
Well, that took a whole five minutes of him turning down food.
“Come on, then.”
Chapter 10
“So … you and Zander?” Sasha gives me a wink while smirking. “I wonder if anyone saw this coming. Oh, wait, I did,” she singsongs, nudging me as she gets up from the table to refill her glass of wine. Without asking me, she fills mine up, too. I lost count of how many times she has already done this.
Are we nearing the end of the bottle?
“We’re just … friends,” I say awkwardly as a vision enters my mind of him slamming me against the door, plowing into me.
“Yeah, okay. So, I suppose you had some serious trouble figuring out how to keep the door shut, hence the slamming of it constantly. And, am I to believe the water turning on once and off once was you two having a friendly shower together?”
“You have seriously given this too much thought. Don’t you own a TV?”
“Honey, you guys were so loud I was ready to take Van to the next state if he woke up from your racket. Luckily, the poor boy slept through it.”
I Stole His Car (Love at First Crime Book 1) Page 16