by Nicole Dykes
“Oh, come on. You know you did.” He was constantly trying to get Liam to go to parties with him when we first started dating and was annoyed every time Liam brought me along. The hatred was mutual from the beginning.
“I was nothing but nice.”
I scoff, “Oh, please. You hated me taking your wingman.”
He looks pained and flinches, which makes me cringe, knowing he’s thinking about Liam. And now, I am too. He swallows, the motion labored. “Yeah. We’d been best friends since we were kids. Then you came along, and all of a sudden . . .” He shakes it away.
I drop my chin, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that. I’m sure that would be a little . . . unnerving.”
He shrugs. “I didn’t think he’d grab a serious girlfriend our freshmen year of college.”
I smile. “I didn’t expect that either.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
“But you didn’t have to be such a dick, trying to get him to fuck other girls.” Again, he winces. “What? Do you deny it?”
His expression is pained, and I’m not sure what thoughts are swimming in his head. “No.” He stands abruptly. “What else did you find?”
I stand up too before he can make his exit to the kitchen and grab the bicep of his good arm, not at all surprised by how solid the muscle is. He turns to me with a questioning glance. “You’re avoiding something.”
“No. I’m not. It’s already afternoon in the winter. The sun will be going down soon, and we have things to tend to.”
“Things?”
He nods. “Show me what else you found.”
I study him, the worry lines on his face tell me he’s holding something back, but I have no idea what. I decide against grilling him and release his arm, walking into the kitchen. He follows as I point to the counter. “Two large pots and two packs of matches.”
“That’s really good.”
“Yeah? Not like we have anything to cook in the pots. Or a stove.”
He shakes his head and then walks closer to me. When his hand cups my cheek, I breathe in deeply from the close contact. I quickly realize he’s examining the gauze on my forehead. “It didn’t bleed through.”
“That’s good.”
He nods, unwrapping the bandage from my head, and I feel slightly dizzy from the intensity. I guess maybe he’ll be a good doctor someday. I didn’t know he had serious in him. “It looks good, but we need to clean it.”
“Well good thing we have water.”
He nods. “Yeah, that’s where the pots come in handy.” He releases me and steps back. “And the bad news.”
“How bad?”
He exhales. “I don’t know how much water we have. I do know we don’t have a water heater, so we can use the pots to boil the water over the fire, but . . .” He actually looks nervous. “But you aren’t going to like the next part.”
“What?”
“You’re covered in blood. I’m dirty. We could really use a bath.” I raise an eyebrow and fold my arms, unsure where he’s going with this. “It’s going to take a lot to fill a tub even a little bit, and the water will cool fairly fast. So, to conserve water . . .”
“No.” I know where he’s going with this. I drop my arms and shake my head. “No way. That’s such a cheesy guy move. ‘Oh hey, baby, let’s shower together to save water.’ No fucking way.”
He lets me go on with my tirade and then leans back against the counter. “First of all, I would never call you ‘baby.’” I roll my eyes, and he continues, “Second of all, trust me, I didn’t go through all this hell just to see you naked.”
I huff, “It’s not happening.”
“Wear your fucking bathing suit for all I care, but it is happening. You need to get cleaned up, before that . . .” he gestures to my forehead, “gets infected. We’re both dirty, with other people’s blood on us. And there’s no way in hell I’m bathing in cold bloody water just so you can preserve your modesty.” He pushes off the counter and walks closer to me. “Sounds like we’re going to be stuck here for a while, might as well get used to each other.”
I stare at him in horror.
How did I get here?
Bathing with my sister’s boyfriend/my boyfriend’s obnoxious best friend.
I’m going to hell for sure.
Yeah, she’s pissed. But I don’t give a damn. We’re a mess. We need to get Liam’s blood and our own off us. And I don’t know how much water we have. While she pouts, I stoke the fire before grabbing one of the pots from the kitchen and heading out.
Ignoring Everly’s seething glare, I go outside to the manual well I managed to find inside the barn. Thankfully, the water isn’t frozen. How? I have no idea, but I’m calling it a win and going with it. I take a deep breath after putting the large pot on the ground beneath the nozzle and using my good arm to pump water from the earth below.
My injured shoulder throbs as I use all my energy, but I won’t quit. I’m shocked when I hear the barn door open and see Everly walking through with the other pot in her hand. Her big eyes look around the barn. “Wow.” They stop on the stockpile of wood. “That’s a lot of firewood.”
I nod and continue to use the manual pump, willing the water to come out. “Yeah. Maybe they used to sell it.”
She nods as she drops the pot next to the one I’m filling. “Your shoulder has to be killing you.”
“I’m not using it.”
“You’re insanely stubborn.”
I snort, and finally a spurt of water comes out and lands in the pot. “Yeah, as if you aren’t.”
I continue to pump until the pot is full and nod for her to move the empty one in position. She moves the heavy, full one out of the way and then pushes the empty one where I need it. I fill that one and groan, thinking about having to haul that inside.
She must sense my hesitance. “We could both grab a handle and carry one in at a time.”
I don’t want to accept her help, but I’m not sure how to get the pot of water inside otherwise. “Fine,” I grunt and grab one handle.
She shakes her head at my obvious irritation and grabs the other side. Together, we carry one inside and then the other, placing them over the fire as best we can.
She collapses on the floor next to the fire. “This is going to take forever.”
“We definitely won’t have a full tub, but it’ll be enough to get clean. There were two other buckets out there. We get these close to boiling, then we can balance the temperature with cold water.”
Her dark eyebrow raises as she looks up at me. “How are you so good at this?”
I grin, and I can see she’s already regretting the semi-compliment. “I’m good at everything, Ev. Haven’t you learned that yet?”
“And oh, so humble,” she grumbles as I reach out to help her stand before we go back out to the barn to fill the remaining buckets of water. It’s more difficult getting these buckets inside because they only have one handle, but we make it.
The water finally starts to boil, and I nod toward Aria’s bag. “Tell me she brought soap.”
Everly moves over to the bag. I don’t miss how slowly she goes through her sister’s things again today, how she cherishes each item that belonged to Aria. She pulls out a pouch that has a lot of little bottles in it. “She thought of everything.”
“Good.” I offer a small smile of sympathy because I may have dated Aria, but only for a month. I didn’t know her much longer than that. Aria was her little sister, someone she’d spent most of her life loving and protecting. “If you’re wearing a suit, you better change. The water won’t stay warm for long.”
She huffs and grabs some black material in her hand and heads toward the bathroom. I try to calm my rapid heartbeat. I’ve seen her in a bathing suit before. Liam and I lucked into renting a house with a pool. We had a lot of pool parties. We also had a hot tub.
But Everly and I were never alone this scantily clad before.
You can do this.
&nbs
p; I kick off my shoes and socks before undoing the button on my jeans, unzipping them and pushing them off.
No. I can’t.
Fuck. Me.
Everly walks back into the living room wearing a skimpy black bikini that instantly makes me stupid. It barely covers her full breasts, and I know if I look any lower, I’ll see that it does nothing to hide her perfectly rounded ass.
She doesn’t say anything as she folds her arms over her stomach and looks at me with impatience. “What now? It’s way too cold to be this underdressed.”
I nod my head toward the buckets. “We pour them in the tub.”
She nods, grabbing one, and I follow after her in my t-shirt and boxer briefs, seeing I was right about the suit not hiding her beautiful ass from my pervy eyes. We pour the water in the old clawfoot tub in the bathroom after securing the plug. “This is going to suck.”
I nod slowly, looking at the cold water barely covering a quarter of the tub. “It’s just to get clean. To make sure that,” I nod to her still-bandaged head, “doesn’t get infected.”
She nods, looking at her bare arm that still has dried blood—Liam’s blood—covering her flesh. “Let’s do this.”
We go into the living room, and I touch the handle briefly before pulling back. The metal handle is hot as hell. Everly grabs two shirts, handing one to me. Using them, we’re able to carry the pot to the tub, pouring it into the cold water and then doing the same thing with the other pot.
We both stand next to the tub, staring at the water for far too long before she tentatively dips her hand in the water. “Not too horrible.”
I watch as she slowly steps into the tub, lowering her lithe body into the water. She has a washcloth and the pouch full of soap with her.
I manage to tear my eyes away from her and remove the sling with no grace whatsoever and then slowly peel my shirt off over my sore shoulder. As I go for the hem of my boxer briefs, I hear, “No.”
My eyes snap to hers. “What?”
“I don’t need to see your junk. I’m covered. You’re covered.”
I don’t point out that it was her choice and definitely not mine for her to be wearing a suit. “Look, I have no issues with my body, and I want to get fully clean.”
She shakes her head from side to side adamantly. “Cooper, haven’t we pushed enough boundaries.”
I grit my teeth, so sick of her attitude for the past three years and worn out from the last day that I can’t give a fuck. “Shield your eyes, princess. This is happening.” I push my briefs down, and she makes a point to look away before I climb into the warm water.
I’m met with the icy glare she’s careful to keep well above my waist, but I don’t care. The water is only lukewarm and barely covers my lap, but I intend to make the best of it. She grabs the washcloth and soap, lathering it up. My eyes are transfixed on her movements as she cleans her arms and then slides the washcloth over her chest.
Fuck me, she has great tits. Full and perky, almost busting out of her top.
Stop.
I will myself to look away and grab the soap she left on the ledge by the tub. I lather it in my hand, letting it roam over my chest.
I look up when I feel her gaze on mine. She quickly looks away, and I don’t call her on it. Because I can’t.
I’ve spent three years in constant denial. I can do this.
She starts to wash her face, and I sit up on my knees, ignoring the semi I’m sporting from being this close to her nearly naked body, and move closer to her. “Let me take the bandage off.”
I can tell she’s forcing herself not to look down, and I almost smile. “No. I can handle it. Put that thing away.”
“Thing?”
She rolls her eyes, and then she does it. Her eyes drift below the belt, causing my dick to go from semi to fully fucking hard and aching. Her eyes widen, and she stares for way too long. We’re both frozen until I decide to end it by being a prick. “Did you get a good enough look? Want a better angle?”
Her eyes bounce back to mine, anger in them, but I see the heat there too. The desire we’ve both tamped down for years. “You’re such an asshole, and I’m not the one that’s fucking aroused.”
I snort a laugh. “Aroused?”
“Hard.” Her eyes stay trained on mine.
“I’m not 100 percent sure, but I don’t think you have a dick. You can keep your . . .” My eyes slowly trail down her body and then back up to her face, smiling when I see her cheeks are flushed. “Arousal hidden.”
“You’re such a prick. Seriously. We’re in the worst situation of our lives, and you’ve already been hard twice that I’ve known of.”
She’s not as mad as she wants me to believe, at least not at me. “Look, just don’t look at my dick and let me take the bandage off and clean it.”
“Don’t come anywhere near me with that thing.”
I roll my eyes and ignore her. The water is cooling rapidly, and we don’t have time for this shit. I unwrap the bandage slowly and examine her wound. “It looks good.” I look down at the washcloth in her hand, trying like hell to bypass her ample chest. That sight would do nothing for my raging hard-on. “Let me have that.”
I hear her huff, but she places it in my good hand. I don’t waste time dipping it in the water and then cleaning her forehead, paying special attention to the wound that thankfully has stopped bleeding.
“We have to keep it clean, but it looks good.”
Her eyes are zoned in on my face, but I don’t miss that her breathing has picked up since I’ve moved this close to her. I’ve wanted to touch her for three long years, and here we are in the most fucked-up situation imaginable.
Somehow, this isn’t how I wanted it.
Not that I would have ever allowed it to happen any other way.
I clean her cheeks, erasing every speck of blood before rinsing the cloth in the water and handing it back to her before settling back into the water on my own side. She seems to be in some sort of trance as she quickly washes the rest of her body.
“Thank you.” Her words are soft, and I just nod as I wash my hair with a tiny shampoo bottle, using as little as possible and dunking my head under the water. Trying not to touch her, but my feet graze her thighs under the water.
When I sit back up and wipe the water from my eyes, I nearly groan out loud when I see she has one leg raised out of the water and lathered up as she drags a razor over her smooth skin. Her eyes meet mine, daring me to say something, but I decide not to take the challenge.
“Fuck, we don’t have towels.”
She looks mildly disappointed. “This is really going to suck.”
She moves to shave the other leg, and my eyes flash to her inner thigh and catches on a lightning bolt tattoo. Why does she have to be so hot?
She lowers her leg to the water. “What?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
She nods, and I climb out of the tub, grabbing the shirt I was wearing and using it to dry off, not bothering to shield her from my nakedness.
“I’m going to go see if I can find something for you to dry off with.”
She doesn’t say anything, and I walk naked into the living room, tugging on fresh clothes and then finding a robe Aria had packed. I’m not sure if that will help her dry, but it’s fluffy and made out of towel-like material.
I bring it into the bathroom and then leave to give her a shred of privacy.
I take a seat on the couch and lean my head back.
Three years.
Three fucking years of torture and trying my best to push down a secret attraction that would betray my best friend.
But now . . . How the hell am I going to survive this?
God. Did that just happen?
I looked at his dick. Not just looked, I gawked at it.
What the hell is wrong with me? I have a boyfriend.
A wave of nausea overtakes me, and my stomach clenches tight when I realize I had a boyfriend. Not have.
I
hate myself.
I finish rinsing off and climb out of the tub, using Aria’s robe to wrap myself in.
Right. Aria.
I stare into the mirror above the sink. It’s aged, but I can see my refection clearly and the self-hatred only grows.
That’s right. Your little sister, who was falling fast for Cooper.
The guy you were just ogling, completely naked in a bathtub together.
I knew she was falling for him. But it never stopped me from having insanely inappropriate fantasies about him. His stupid, gorgeous smile and impressive hard body has infiltrated my dreams off and on for the past three years.
And now I’ve seen his cock.
His very thick, long, veiny, hard cock that was not at all the small, shrimp of a dick I’d secretly hoped he was packing.
No. Everything about Cooper Kingston just has to be annoyingly perfect.
I berate myself again, telling myself how fucking stupid and gross I’m being before exiting the bathroom and facing Coop, who has his eyes closed and is leaning back against the couch.
He must hear me come in because his head lolls forward, and we make eye contact. “Not the worst, right?”
“Not exactly the spa.” God, why do I have to be so bitchy?
Because I feel guilty as hell.
I answer my own question before making my way to my bag, searching for clothes. “Thank you for figuring out the whole bath thing though. I feel slightly better not being covered in blood.”
Even if part of me thinks I deserved to remain that way as a reminder of who I should be loyal to.
I watch his Adam’s apple slide up and down in his throat as he watches me with so many words left unsaid. What they are? I have no idea. But I can tell he wants to say something.
Please don’t.
“You should dress as warm as you can, and we should go explore while there’s still daylight left.”
“You think there’s anything else out there?”
“I don’t know, but we can’t waste daylight.” He shrugs his good shoulder, and I notice he’s holding onto his other arm.
“Do you want me to put another sling on you?”