"Oh, so you're not excited to see me?" he said, his tone light but suggestive. Our night at my parents' house was just as fresh in my mind as the one I'd shared with Flor and I felt sick to my stomach.
"Of course I am," I said again, forcing back thoughts of my idiotic stepbrother. For whatever reason, the idea of Max finding out what had happened between us terrified me almost as much if not more than my own parents. He'd grown up with Flor and me, and I just did not see it going over well. "I just wanted to talk to Flor about something and he's being an ass."
"So what's new?" Max asked with a laugh, pausing and then snapping his fingers. His voice took on a gentle expression as he reached out and cupped my face. "A new sibling this late in the game, huh? It's a little weird, isn't it?" I nodded, feeling a little relieved that I had a valid excuse for being here. "But you are staying for dinner, right?"
"Yeah," I said because what choice did I have now? If I left, everyone would know something was up.
"Awesome," he replied, kissing my cheek again. "I'm gonna go change real quick, 'kay?" I nodded again and Max moved away, disappearing into the bedroom at the end of the hall. I paused for a moment and then decided to follow after him. I couldn't stand the thought of being stuck out here alone with Rhonda again. My guilt was eating away at me and making me sick.
I moved after him when the bathroom door to my right suddenly opened and Flor appeared, cloaked in steam and wrapped in only a towel. He paused, eyes widening like he hadn't expected me to be there and then glanced towards the kitchen. Neither of us could see Rhonda from here, but the fact that she was there was unforgettable.
I found my eyes straying to the drops of moisture of Flor's bare skin, clutching at the bright lines of his tattoos. His dark hair dripped into his eyes and his breath caught harshly in his chest.
"Do you need something?" I managed to squeak out, my brain flooding with a million memories of Flor doing this at home, yelling something out the bathroom door. I'd been sent to fetch him shampoo, conditioner, and once, he even asked me to grab him a pair of boxers. That'd been the one time I'd slammed the door in his face.
He looked at me, really looked at me, and then reached out, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. Flor tugged me roughly into the bathroom and slammed the door, pushing me against it with the full force of his body. In the background, the shower continued to run and the fan whirred, but I couldn't hear anything but the beating of my own heart.
"What … what are you doing?" I choked out.
Flor leaned down and his mouth closed over mine, his hands sliding down my sides. At first, my eyes were wide and my body stiff with guilt and fear and confusion – what if we got caught? – but then his tongue found mine, infusing me with heat, and I went limp in his arms, my eyes flickering closed with a flutter of lashes. My fingers strayed to his damp hair, his bare chest and felt their way down until I found the towel wrapped around his waist. With little effort it slipped to the tile floor beneath our feet.
I opened my eyes.
"Flor," I began again, but he hadn't invited me in here to talk. Florian slid his warm, damp hands up my bare thighs and hooked his fingers over the waistband of my panties, tugging them down with excruciating slowness, leaving me panting for breath. The ache between my thighs was unbearable as he slipped the underwear off and tossed them in the corner. Already my mind was getting away from me, wondering how we'd manage to get through this without being caught – not to mention what might happen if I forgot my underwear in here. But then Flor stood back up and hooked his left hand under my right leg. I suddenly didn't give a crap about anyone but us.
Flor shoved himself into me, slamming our bodies into the door with a grunt that I could only hope was covered up by the whir of the fan and the noise of the still running shower. I wove my fingers together behind his neck and leaned in for a kiss.
Only he wouldn't kiss me.
Flor turned his head and my lips scraped up against his cheek, but he didn't give me any time to let my anger bloom. His body moved inside of mine, rough and tender all at once, like he couldn't decide if he was in love with me or if he hated me. A whimper escaped me, and I did my best to silence it, pressing my face against the curve of Flor's neck while he fucked me against his bathroom door. While both our significant others waited outside.
He didn't say anything, not a word, and it was all I could do to keep quiet, so we stood there, bodies melting together, fingers hot and breath harsh. Flor and I fucked until he was spent and stumbling back from me, a very familiar look in his eyes.
A look that said I was too dangerous to touch.
Flor and I stood a few feet apart, staring at one another, our chests rising and falling as we struggled to catch our breath.
"Get out," he said, and I found myself blinking stupidly back at him while hurt surged hot and hard inside my chest.
"What?" I managed to sputter out, pushing my dress back into place. I was too stunned to move, too confused, like I was being held prisoner by my own emotions.
"Get out," he said again, turning away and climbing into the shower. He flicked the curtain closed behind him, apparently satisfied that that was the end of the discussion. I swallowed back a surge of fresh tears, my hands quivering, my body still aflame from the heat of his fingers. How … why would you do this to me, Flor?
I reached down and grabbed the knob, stepping out into the hallway at the same moment I bit back a sob. I didn't think to check for anyone before I went out, but fortunately for Flor and me both, it seemed nobody had noticed our very brief double absence.
I leaned back against the wall and took several deep breaths, squeezing my thighs together as I fought the tears. Damn you, Florian. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. I kicked back, hitting the wall with my boot just as Max opened his bedroom door and gave me a raised brow.
"What's wrong?" he asked, making me feel naked. I was already missing my panties. I felt exposed, and I didn't like it one bit. I shook my head and shrugged, forcing a smile that tasted like broken glass in my mouth. I decided since I was already bleeding inside, since I was already a cheater, I might as well add liar to the mix.
"Addi called and she's having a fight with Patrick. She wants me to come pick her up."
"I can go with you," Max said, stepping forward. He looked handsome, really, he did, but I could barely even look at him I was so ashamed. "You can bring her back here and we can all eat together, like we did way back when." I made my smile wider and shook my head.
"I think she needs some girl time," I said and then jumped when I heard Rhonda's voice from over my shoulder.
"Never underestimate the power of girl time," she said as I turned to look at her eager face and kind smile. I think I'm going to be sick.
I moved forward, gave Max an obligatory kiss on the cheek, and left with a promise to Rhonda that I'd stop by tomorrow and pick up some leftovers.
Hell, if I didn't intend to keep that promise, who would ever know?
I didn't want to burden Addi with another failure of Flor story, so I kept the news of what had happened between us to myself.
"Where you been, stranger?" Addi asked me as I slunk into the kitchen and deposited my purse on a stool at the breakfast bar. Where had I been? I felt like that was a question that even I didn't know the answer to. Hell and back, that's what I wanted to say. My legs felt shaky and my heart was still running along at a mile a minute. The lack of underwear wasn't helping my mood much either. Two pairs of my favorite panties were gone now because of Flor.
Flor.
My stomach tightened and turned over and my breath caught harshly in my throat.
"Out with Max," I said, which wasn't a complete lie. Max had been there; it just wasn't him that I'd had sex with. "Why? Anything interesting going on?" I moved into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of iced tea, desperate to make a run for my bedroom (and a clean pair of panties), but also unwilling to let my friends see me shake. Theo was over, again, not an unwelcome sight necessarily, but I also knew that he was at least twice as perceptive as Addison. At least at the moment he was wholly and completely focused on painting her toenails.
"Patrick's flying up here last minute and wants to go to dinner on Saturday. When I even hinted that I'd rather stay in and binge on ice cream and cheesy Netflix movies, he practically freaked."