When Rivals Fall (Bayshore Rivals 1)

“Afraid?” Sullivan asks, as if he could read my mind. I twist around in my seat to face him. He’s not smiling, in fact, he looks as cold as a statue. Impassive and cut off from the world. I think on his question. Am I afraid? Hell yes. Afraid of losing the last shreds of my heart, afraid of the unknown, afraid of where we will go from here. Is there any hope for us?

“A little,” I confess, feeling like all my emotions are on display.

“It will be okay,” he murmurs soothingly before getting out of the car. I open my own door and slip out. The short walk to the front door goes by in a flash. Sullivan twists the knob and walks in with me following closely behind.

I follow him step for step as he walks into the living room, almost as if he is my human shield, protecting me from the wrath of his brothers.

“Hey, what…” Oliver stops mid-sentence when he sees me hiding behind Sullivan. “What the hell is she doing here?”

Banks is sitting beside him, glaring at me, but not saying anything and I have the urge to turn around and run back out the front door.

“Just listen for a minute,” Sullivan starts, while Oliver and Banks are already shaking their heads, anger wafting off of them. “She’s going to stay here tonight,” he announces despite his brothers’ obvious disgust.

“Fuck that. There is no way we are letting her stay here,” Banks speaks for the first time, his voice as hard as his facial features. “I’m done. I’m done with this whole thing.” He declares.

My heart sinks even further. They’re going to kick me out. I knew they would, but it still hurts to accept it. I let my head hang low, tucking my chin against my chest, and turn around to leave, but Sullivan stops me, his warm hand gripping my elbow.

“Go upstairs to my room, I’ll be right there,” he tells me, lifting his chin towards the staircase.

“Are you sure?” I ask, looking up at him, not daring to glance over at his brothers. Their icy gazes are shattering my still beating heart.

“Positive,” he assures me. “Go, I’ll be right there.” He gives me a reassuring smile and call it weakness or a need for attention but against my better judgement I do as he says. I let my feet carry me up the grand staircase.

“This has to stop, Sullivan, we agreed this wasn’t going to happen, that you weren’t going to…” Oliver’s voice drops dangerously low and I block it out, finishing my walk up the stairs. I drag my feet across the carpeted hallway, until I reach Sullivan’s room.

Twisting the door knob, I open it and walk inside. I close the door behind me, taking in the space and smell. This strange feeling comes over me, I can’t explain what it is, but it feels like peace, like safety, like nothing can get to me when I’m in this room. Slipping off my shoes, I let my body pull me towards the bed. Sinking down onto the mattress I almost moan, the tension seeping right out of me. I press my face into Sullivan’s pillows and inhale, his heady scent swirling in my veins. A warmth blankets my body, and for the first time in forever I don’t feel alone. I don’t feel afraid.

My eyes drift closed, as I slowly breathe in and out, the air passing my lips with ease. I stay like this for a long time, until eventually the exhaustion, fear, and pain of pretending everything is okay overtakes me and I drift off to a blissful sleep, with Sullivan’s calming scent surrounding me.

???

Opening my eyes, I yawn, my gaze sweeping around the room, grey walls, black sheets, it takes me a moment before I realize where I am. The sound of running water coming from the attached bathroom pricks at my ears. I rub my eyes with the back of my hands and look at the door. It’s cracked open, steam escaping from the room.

Sitting up on the bed, I run a hand down my chest flattening my now wrinkled sweater. The water shuts off and I hear the shower door open and close. Only then do I realize that Sullivan must be behind that door, and obviously very much naked. My cheeks heat stupidly and my lower belly tingles at the thought.

The door opens, and Sullivan enters the room wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist. My mouth goes dry and I think my heart actually skips a beat. I don’t know where to look first, at his chiseled abs, or his shoulders, or his face, or the delicious V of muscle that leads down to a land that I shouldn’t be thinking about. No man should look as good as he does, it’s just not fair.