I’m never leaving this room.
Excited shouts erupt from downstairs. A second later, Marcus is banging on my door, calling my name. I pull the sheets over my head when the door is thrown open.
“You’re on the fucking news!” he shouts. “They’re bleeping the shit out of you! You gotta see this.”
I roll toward the window and bunch the pillow under my head. “I was there, so I think I’m good.”
He yanks me to my feet. “My sister’s fucking famous.”
A dagger shoots through my right hip with the motion and I cry out with the pain.
“You okay?” he asks, his eyes scanning me with sudden concern.
No. I look at him a long moment, wanting so badly to say it, but I can’t make my mouth form the word. Marcus wasn’t as understanding as my mother when everything with Caiden came to light. He wanted to kill Caiden. I got pissed at him for doing the same thing everyone else has been doing—judging Caiden based on things that have nothing to do with how we are together. Marcus was the person who understood me better than anyone else—the one person I was sure would be there to lean on. And he wasn’t. Things have been strained between us for the last couple of weeks. How much worse would it get if he knew I’ve been fucking Nate?
“It was just a rough night,” is what comes out when I finally open my mouth.
He bites his lips in a self-conscious gesture. “What you fucking did up there…it was brilliant, Blaire.” He squints a question at me. “You really loved that Caiden guy?”
A tear slips over my lashes. “I still do.”
He scratches the top of his head. “It’s just really hard for me to think about some fucking guy doing…that to you.” Finally, his eyes lift to mine. “We’re all dicks, Blaire. We don’t even need to like you to fuck you. I just don’t want some guy taking advantage of you.” He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter how old he is. Doesn’t matter who he is. I’d want to fucking kill the guy.”
He spreads his arms and I step into them.
“What the hell are you wearing?” he asks after a second.
“I was cold,” I say, my hands bunching into the layers of cotton and fleece at my hips. I got up during the night and pulled on four layers of sweatpants and three sweatshirts.
He grins and throws me over his shoulder. I gasp with the pain in my hip but bite back the scream. “You’ve got to come see yourself. We TiVoed it.”
Marcus carries me down the stairs and sets me on my feet. Nate is on the floor with a throw pillow bunched behind his head. I nearly turn around when sends me his dimpled grin. Marcus sprawls himself over the sofa and yanks me down to sit on his stomach, then picks up the remote.
“Back it up, dude,” Nate says.
“What the fuck do you think I’m doing?” Marcus shoots back as the footage of me at the graduation mic speeds by in reverse.
He hits play and I get to watch myself tell the world off. It only makes me feel sicker when Nate winks at me.
“Where are Mom and Dad?” I ask when Marcus and Nate finally stop with the commentary several minutes later.
Marcus shrugs. “Fuck if I know. They were gone when we got up.” He slides me off him and peels himself out of the sofa. “I’m gonna hit the shower.” He crumples an empty Coke can and chucks it at Nate. “You heading home, dude?”
Nate pelts the can back at Marcus and drags himself off the floor. “Yeah. We partying tonight?”
“Always,” Marcus says, striding for the stairs. “Catch you later.”
I go to the kitchen without looking at Nate, because I’ve suddenly broken out in a cold sweat despite my layers of clothing. I hope he’ll take the hint and leave, but he follows me into the kitchen.
My whole body seizes when he leans in behind me, where I’m hiding in the refrigerator. “I was thinking…maybe we should come clean with Marcus.”
A cold stone fist squeezes my stomach and I swallow back bile. I feel my hands start to shake. I wrap them around my middle and clench them into my sweats. “Come clean?”
If he tells my brother he raped me, I don’t even want to think about what Marcus would do.
He pulls himself up to sit on the counter. “I think we should date, baby girl. Make it official.”
“How much did you drink last night?” I ask, pulling a blueberry yogurt off the shelf and closing the fridge.
He grins. “You missed a crazy fucking graduation party, that’s for sure, but I’m serious. I like you. We’re good together. And if fucking Marcus can’t get over himself and be good with that, then fuck him.”
I look more closely at him as I move behind the table with my yogurt, putting an obstacle between us. There’s no hint of humor in his eyes.