My eyes go straight to my thigh where Jasper held me. He left no marks, even though he was holding me so tightly. A pang of disappointment hits me and I don’t know why. But that’s another lie I tell myself.
I know why I’m disappointed. I wanted his mark on me. Something deep inside me did and still does. The desire I have for him is so strong that I would take anything I could get. I close my eyes, wondering if that makes me pathetic. I put my face in my hands and try to get a grip on everything I’m feeling.
When I hear a knock at my bathroom door, I know it’s my mom. No one else would come into my room and knock on it besides her. I stand up and open the door. Her eyes sweep over me, and I remember what I’m wearing. She doesn’t make a comment on my clothes and simply gives me a bright smile.
“The guys are going to look at some machine that’s broken and I thought we could spend the day in the kitchen together. Make them a big meal like old times,” she says, reaching out and tucking a strand of dark hair behind my ear.
Cooking is something my mom and I enjoy doing together, and this would be another way to remind me that we are all family. Maybe this is exactly what I need—a shock to the system to somehow reset my traitorous body.
“I thought we could talk about your plans this summer. I know you enrolled in some classes online, but you seem a little…” She trails off, but I understand what she’s saying.
I do feel a little lost, and I also know spending the afternoon with her will only make me feel better.
“Sounds like fun. Let me hop in the shower and I’ll be right down.”
She leans in and places a kiss on my cheek. “Love you, baby girl,” she says before turning and leaving with a smile on her face.
Guilt falls on my shoulders as I close the bathroom door and undress. If all the feelings I’ve been having about Jasper were to ever come to light, it would destroy our family. I could never do that to my mom or to Ned.
So instead of doing what my body and my heart want, I’ll listen to the voice in my head.
4
Jasper
I watch Libby nearly run into the house, and I shake my head at myself. Fuck, I’ve got to get better control. She looked like a baby deer in headlights when I touched her. I sat there rubbing her milky white skin and thinking all kinds of non-brotherly things.
What is wrong with me? Why couldn’t I keep my hands to my fucking self? Something about her, the way she looked so innocent and sweet, called to me. Maybe it’s because I’ve been in love with her since the day I met her and my heart gets confused. My truck still smells like cinnamon sugar and fresh-baked cookies, and I will my hard-on to go away. Shame hits me as the throb in my pants won’t quit and I don’t know how to make it stop.
All I wanted to do was keep that asshat from touching her, but I had to take it to the next level, didn’t I? I had to punch Owen Bishop in front of the whole fucking town and scare the one person I want to protect. She looked at me like I was some kind of animal, and I would have given anything to make it go away. Her eyes were wide with what had to be fear as I stroked her skin and selfishly took what I wanted. I didn’t stop to think about what that could do to her, and I feel like a grade-A bastard.
I open my door, trying to get away from the smell of her, even though I don’t want to. I need to clear my head, and I can’t do that if I’m surrounded by thoughts of her warm, soft skin under my touch and wondering if she would feel just as soft under me. If the weight of my body would hold her down against her mattress. Would she press her mouth into her pillow to hide her moans from our parents as I thrust into her cunt?
“Fuck,” I mutter, kicking my door shut and grabbing my bag out of the back.
Staying here for more than a day is a bad idea. But my dad said he needed my help for a couple of days, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him. And you get to see Libby, the voice in the back of my head pipes up, and I groan.
I walk into the house and see Carol sitting in the living room. She sees me and stands up, coming over and wrapping me up in a hug. Guilt is heaped on the already mile-high pile I have inside me as I think about what I feel for her daughter. She’d be so ashamed of me if she knew what I wanted, and as much as I want Libby, I don’t want to hurt our family. What we have is special, more than anyone could hope for. I know how happy she’s made my dad and how in love with Carol he is. My feelings for Libby would bring the life we’ve all built tumbling down and I don’t want to do that.