Alana was… Alana. Gorgeous. Smart. Sharp as hell. And yeah, we were faking our relationship, but that didn’t mean I was blind.
But jerking off to the thought of her mouth on me? That was another level of fucked up.
That wasn’t just blurred lines, that was a full-blown detour intowhat-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-meterritory.
I let out a frustrated groan, the sound muffled by the water dripping from my shower head. My jaw ached from how tight I was clenching it.
We were friends.
We had rules.
We had a deal, goddamnit.
“Fuck!” My hand slammed against the tile, the sharp sting nothing compared to the shame burning inside me.
This wasn’t some casual mistake I could laugh off or bury. This was dangerous. She was getting under my skin in ways I didn’t even realize until it was too late.
Alana had crept into my thoughts, my dreams, my very being without a warning. It scared the shit out of me.
I leaned forward, bracing both palms on the wall, breathing heavy, like I’d just finished a fight I hadn’t even realized I was in.
But I had.
With myself.
And I was losing.
Another string of curses fell from my lips, the hot water pounding against my back as if trying to wash away the confusion and lust swirling inside me.
This wasn’t part of the plan.
I dragged a hand down my face and finally opened my eyes, blinking against the steam. The bathroom felt too hot, too close, like I was suffocating.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. For just another moment, my thoughts kept lingering on her, but I managed to push them aside eventually.
I forced myself out of the shower, grabbing a towel and roughly drying off. But the moment I stepped into my bedroom, a different kind of weight settled in.
How the hell was I supposed to look her in the eye after this?
How could I pretend nothing happened, when my entire body remembered it in vivid detail?
I wrapped the towel around my waist, the unease in my gut thick and relentless. And just then, my phone buzzed from the nightstand.
I grabbed it, grateful for anything to pull me out of my own head, and nearly sagged with relief when I saw my dad’s name on the screen.
Thank God. He was always a welcome distraction.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, surprised by how normal my voice sounded. Like I hadn’t just had a complete breakdown in the shower.
“Do you have a minute?”
“For you? Always.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, still damp, towel clinging to my waist. Water dripped from my hair, darkening the comforter beneath me, but I didn’t care. I didn’t have the energy to care.
“I just got off the phone with Colin,” Dad said. His voice was casual, easy, but I could already feel that twist in my gut. Something was coming. “He had to push back the charity gala. Kim and Kayden came down with some kind of virus.”
“Oh, shit. Are they okay?” I asked, even as my thoughts stayed far from the conversation. I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to force myself to focus. To stop replaying the scene in the shower on a damn loop.