Drown in You, page 7
While Juliet and I walk to our first classes in Eureka, the aptly named building that hosts STEM classes, I’m dying to tell her every mortifying detail about this weekend. But I can’t bring myself to confess to every horrifying turn my life has taken in the past seventy-two hours.
Thank god, Luke’s friends managed to convince him to hit the ice with them after they helped me move in. The Devils. That’s what they call themselves, and the name definitely suits them.
Juliet showed up shortly after they left, and I’ve managed to avoid Luke since, but I’m sure that won’t last long. Insanely, he doesn’t seem too keen on letting our one-night stand remain that way.
In the sunlight, the stud in Juliet’s nose glints before we push our way into the building. She nudges me with an elbow. “So? How was the wedding reception? How’s the new family? Are they a bunch of weirdos?”
I groan, following her to the stairs when we spot the line waiting in front of the elevators. “It was so awkward.”
“How evil is the stepmonster?”
“Not at all. She’s actually really nice. And my dad seemed really happy I’m here.”
“He should be over-fucking-joyed.” My father will have a harder time winning Juliet over than me. She smirks. “What about the stepbrother? Is he hot?”
My pulse picks up speed. “Ew. He’s my stepbrother.”
Juliet and I don’t keep secrets from each other, and the guilt gnaws at me for keeping this one, but what happened between me and Luke can’t get out.
“So? That doesn’t mean you can’t see whether he’s hot or not. It’s not like he’s your actual brother.” Of course I should’ve known the kinkiest girl I’ve ever met wouldn’t bat an eye at a little taboo.
“I’d set you up with him, but he’s an athlete.” That would actually be the perfect solution to keeping Luke preoccupied with someone else, but ever since Marcus, Juliet has sworn off athletes.
“Damn. Maybe he has some sexy friends for us.”
“He does, but they’re hockey players too. The Devils.”
She rolls her eyes as we approach my Intro to Statistics class. “All right, the first party we go to, we’re finding some gorgeous guys and getting laid.”
“Agreed.” For the millionth time this morning, I check my phone.
Mom is already on her way to work after confirming with a video that she remembered to lock the door behind her and the house isn’t on fire. I’m relieved she’s doing okay without me, even if it makes me feel a twinge of disappointment that she doesn’t actually need me after all.
But the real reason an ache settles in my chest is because Ten is still radio silent.
If he’s not ghosting me voluntarily, something bad might’ve happened to him. But I have no idea how to get in touch with anyone who might know anything.
We’ve shared the darkest parts of our souls, our greatest insecurities. I told him about how abandoned I felt after my dad moved away when the divorce was finalized, how exhausted it sometimes made me to carry the weight of Mom’s sorrows and heartbreak on my shoulders, how sometimes I just wanted to be a kid again even though I love her and knew she needed me. I know how much he misses his dad who died only a year before we met, how he still harbors guilt over not being able to do more for him, and how he still has nightmares about that day. But what does all that matter when I don’t even know his last name?
The only thing I haven’t told him is about what I did last summer. I couldn’t bring myself to confess to the worst thing I’ve ever done, not even to him. Ten was the one person in my life who didn’t know what happened, and I wanted to keep it that way. To hang on to that past life, from before I ruined everything.
“Who’s texting you?” Juliet asks. “Ten?”
I try not to flinch. “Nobody. I actually haven’t heard from him in a few days. I think he’s ghosting me.”
“If he is, then he’s a loser. Forget him.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal. Because Juliet doesn’t know what it’s like to experience rejection or insecurity. “Text me when you’re done with class so we can grab lunch.”
She strides off, boots smacking with every step. A couple of scrawny guys waiting for their classroom to open up watch every sway of her hips. She’d eat them alive.
While the professor in my Intro to Statistics class gives us an overview of the syllabus, I ignore the first buzz from my phone in my pocket. But when my phone vibrates again, I can’t resist the temptation to check.
Even though I tell myself not to hang on to hope, the disappointment still deflates me when neither of the texts are from Ten.
The first is from Dad.
Dad
Hope you have a great first day, kiddo! Feel free to call whenever you want to tell me about your classes or if you need anything.
The other text is from an unknown number.
Unknown
You’re not getting away that easy.
My heart drops.
Fuck. This has to be Marcus. Or one of his former teammates. What if they’re looking for me?
I screenshot the text, and even though at this point I’m not sure he’ll even read my message, I send it to Ten.
Sienna
What do you think the odds are that this is a wrong number?
My heart pounds. Even if I block the number, Marcus will text me from another.
Ten won’t let this message go ignored. Even if he’s pissed at me for some reason, he cares about me. He wouldn’t have stayed my friend for so many years if he didn’t.
He’ll text me back. He won’t let me deal with this alone.
But as the professor drones at the front of the lecture hall and the minutes tick by, my phone screen doesn’t light up. He doesn’t respond.
Maybe he actually doesn’t give a fuck. I don’t know when the hell everything changed between us or what I did wrong.
I thought coming to Diamond would be the answer to all my problems, but instead, my whole life is going up in flames.
I’m only a couple of hours away from Wakefield. Marcus could drive here in a single day. What if he somehow manages to track me down?
Maybe no matter where I go, I’ll never be truly safe.
Chapter 8
Luke
Over the hiss of skates slicing through the ice and my hammering heart echoing in my ears, Knox shouts, “Ease up, Valentine! You’re gonna kill yourself.”
“Ignore him!” Damien yells. “Rockefeller is just afraid you’ll be better than him.”
While they argue, I ignore both of them, chasing the puck between the orange cones over and over. Beneath my helmet, sweat drips from my hair.
But no matter how hard I push my body, I can’t get the image of that screenshot Sienna sent me out of my head.
Some prick threatened her. And other than tracking down who the phone number belongs to, there’s nothing I can do for her. No way I can protect her. And I couldn’t even respond to her. Had to keep being the douchebag who ignores his friend when she needs help.
I’m fucking tired of feeling helpless. Like I can’t do anything to protect the people I care about. Not Pop or Chloe or Sienna.
“Bring any puck bunnies home last night?” Knox asks.
I finally take a break, skating to the wall and leaning against it while I catch my breath. My lungs heave, starved of oxygen. “Who I fuck is none of your business.”
“What I don’t get is how he hasn’t been balls-deep in his hot stepsister every night,” Damien calls.
My fists clench. “Shut the fuck up, Vanderbilt. We don’t talk about each other’s sisters, remember?”
I would’ve been balls-deep in Sienna after a romantic candlelit dinner if she wasn’t so set on avoiding me. As if finding out we’re step-siblings somehow negates the mindblowing night we shared. How can she just avoid me like nothing happened? I know when I’ve made a girl come, and she did. Hard. Every kiss, every moan, every breath—we were in sync from the moment we walked through that door together. We knew exactly what to do to each other because we know each other better than anyone else does. We’re meant to be, and she’ll learn that soon enough.
“And moms,” Knox adds. “You know how hard it is for me not to talk about how much I want to bone Damien’s mom every game?”
Damien punches his arm before turning back to me with a salacious grin. “I’m just saying, I wouldn’t let the whole stepsister thing stop me. Not like you two grew up together. You can fuck her, just don’t marry her.”
I don’t care who the hell our parents are married too—they’re not stopping me from marrying her. She’s mine. But if keeping my mouth shut means she’ll stay here with me, that’s what I’ll do.
Now that I’ve finally had Sienna in my arms, I’m not letting her out of my sight. I’ve failed too many people I care about. I won’t fail her.
Finn takes my place at the orange cones, chasing the puck as he darts between them. He’s the best offensive player on our team. Usually, we don’t hear a word out of him, and when we do, we’re lucky if it’s a full sentence. Yet the puck bunnies love him.
“Tell him, Ashby!” Knox calls.
Finn shrugs, keeping his eye on the puck. “I’d make my stepsister scream.”
The other Devils hoot, and I shake my head. “Good thing you assholes don’t have sisters.”
“I have a hot cousin.” Damien smirks. “I might give her a ride too.”
Knox shakes his head. “Too far.”
“You assholes training or gossiping?” Wes barks. He’s not usually late for practices and workouts, but when he is, you can guarantee it’s because he was fucking Violet Harris.
I screwed things up with Violet too. I believed an asshole like Trey Lamont over her. I’m partially to blame for him and a few of the other Devils kidnapping and attacking her. If I hadn’t believed Trey, if I hadn’t resented her for Chloe’s death, I would’ve seen that Violet was a victim, not a villain.
Since last semester, I’ve been trying to make amends for the way I treated her. The way we all treated her. Wes led the charge until Trey took over, but I played a role. I could’ve stood up for her, I could’ve refused to participate, but I didn’t. I wanted my sick, twisted revenge on Violet too.
But instead of getting back at me, she’s forgiven me. I get what Chloe saw in her. Why they were best friends. Now that she’s lost Chloe, I’m trying to be the friend Violet deserves.
“We were just discussing how Valentine won’t fuck his stepsister.” Knox winks at me.
God, I fucking hate them. They’re lucky they’re like my brothers. I’d love to tell them exactly how hard I already fucked my stepsister, but Sienna will never forgive me if she finds out I spilled our little secret.
Wes steals the puck from Finn, aiming it at the net. It sails right in. “If Violet was my stepsister, that wouldn’t stop me.”
I’ve got a full schedule and other shit to do, yet here I am, stalking my stepsister around campus.
From the balcony above her head, I watch her at a table in the University Center. Her laptop is charging while she types away, fingers occasionally drifting from the keyboard to rip off a chunk of a breadstick and dip it in tomato sauce. Every time she sucks the red liquid from her finger, my cock twitches.
For some reason, everyone is keeping the cause of her arrival a secret. But like Ma said, we’re family now. So no more keeping secrets from me. Who gave her those bruises? Who is she running from? Why didn’t she tell Ten? What else has she kept from me?
Whether they like it or not, I’m finding out.
Below the balcony, Sienna remains blissfully unaware of her stepbrother tracking her every move.
Behind me, Finn hunches over his laptop at our round table, actually doing the classwork we need to get done before practice this afternoon. The bullshit work for my Intro to Nutrition class can wait—this is more important.
“How do you track somebody’s phone?”
Finn doesn’t respond to my question. He keeps typing on his laptop, and I’m about to ask if he heard me until he points at his screen. He’s pulled up a step-by-step guide on how I can track Sienna’s phone. Only issue is I need to get my hands on it.
“Thanks.” I clap him on the shoulder. “You know, you’re my favorite person with selective mutism.”
That manages to get a rare grunt of amusement out of him before I grab my shit and take off down the stairs.
As soon as Sienna leaves her seat to throw away the empty box of breadsticks, I make my move.
Her phone peeks out of her bag. All I need to do is install a GPS app and share her location with my phone. Then I’ll be able to find her wherever she goes.
But when I grab the phone, her screen is locked. Fuck. I try a few of the usual suspects, but Sienna is smart enough not to make 0-0-0-0 her passcode.
Wait. I bet—yes. I grin at the screen as it unlocks. 1-0-1-0. Ten-ten. That’s my girl.
My thumbs sweep across the screen to download the app and enable location sharing.
When I spot her heading my way with a wary grimace, I tuck her phone behind my back.
I like her like this. More toned down than the sexy seductress I met at the hotel. Not as try-hard as the selfies she used to post on social media. Her distressed jeans don’t reveal any bare skin beneath and her sweater is loose over her chest, concealing her perfect tits. The long sleeves of her cardigan cover any bruises that may still be lingering underneath and the hem hits below her ass, giving none of the guys here anything to ogle. But I do anyway.
Not staring at her is impossible. She’s got the kind of round, innocent face that makes you want to protect her. Bright, wary green eyes that make you want to chase her because she’ll make the most beautiful prey. And pouty lips that make you want to slide your cock between them. That make you want to say something, anything, just to make her smile.
No, Sienna will never hide from me now.
“Luke.” Her voice is curt as she slides into her chair, already dropping her gaze from me to her bag.
“Hey, sis.” I love the way the nickname drives her insane. She wants to rip my head off and I’d love to see her try. Not really a fan of the new legal status of our relationship myself, but getting her riled up makes blood pump to my cock.
Her brows furrow when she digs through her bag, frantic.
“Looking for this?” I hold her phone up and out of reach when she grabs for it.
“How did you get my phone?” Her eyes narrow, and I shouldn’t be getting off on her anger this much.
“Maybe you should be more careful about leaving valuables lying around where anyone can take them.”
“Gee, thanks.” She holds out her hand. “Please give me my phone back.”
“Why are you so paranoid?” I flick a brow up at her. “Hiding something? Nudes?”
God, I hope so. I’ll send them to my number right now.
She folds her arms over her chest. “No, but it’s my phone, and I deserve privacy.”
“We’re family now, sis. There’s nothing private between us.” I lean closer to murmur in her ear. “Not anything inside your phone. Or beneath your clothes.”
Sienna snatches the phone from my grasp, her fingers grazing my skin. The brush of contact is too short-lived. I need more. I’ve never craved someone the way I crave her.
“What are you even doing here?” Sienna snaps. “Are you following me?”
“Ma said to keep an eye on you.”
“Pretty sure she didn’t mean stalk me. Don’t you have something better to do? Class or practice or something? Maybe a puck bunny to bang with your buddies in the locker room?”
“Not my style. I’m a one-woman-at-a-time kind of guy.”
She sighs. “I really don’t know why you’re being like this. Sure, we had a great time that night, but—”
“We had an amazing night, Sienna. A night I can’t get out of my head.”
That shuts her up.
If only she knew that the night in her hotel room wasn’t just a random one-night stand—it was the culmination of years of suppressed attraction and the best friendship either of us has ever had.
She can’t know that I’m the masked man she’s been talking to for years—she never can—but maybe if she did, she wouldn’t be fighting me so hard on this. If our whole relationship hadn’t been built on a lie, maybe she wouldn’t give a fuck about our parents’ marital status either and she’d fall for me the way I’ve fallen for her, no matter what anybody had to say about it.
“You know the last time I slept through the night? The last time I didn’t have any thoughts in my head except about the girl in bed with me?” I step closer, forcing her neck to crane so she can meet my gaze. Her jasmine scent is intoxicating and I want to wrap her around me. Wrap those thighs around my face and breathe her in, get another mouthwatering taste. “You gave me that. I can do the same for you if you let me.”
Her nostrils flare, even as her eyes soften. “Sex is off the table ever since we found out our parents are married. But if you need someone to talk to—”
“We don’t need to have sex on the table. We can do it on the floor, in our beds, on the couch, in the shower—”
“Stop.” Sienna jumps up from her seat, chair squealing against the shiny floor. She stuffs her laptop and phone in her bag, swinging it over her shoulder. “I told you, this isn’t happening.”
I cup her chin before she shakes me off. Her gaze darts around the room at the nearby students too engrossed in their own work and lives to notice us, but to her, we’re under a spotlight. “And I told you it is.”
“So, what?” She blinks at me, angry tears shimmering. “You’re going to force me?”
Her voice wobbles, but she can’t possibly believe I would ever force her. That I would ever have to. When I have Sienna again, she will be a willing and eager participant. “This isn’t just about sex, Sienna. This is way more than that. And I won’t need to force you. You’ll be begging for it.”
