Chapter 46

Rowena

The sound of fists pummeling leather filled the air as Eric stood with his back turned to me, sweat running down his skin. He almost seemed to be hitting his punching bag with a primal, feral intensity—almost as though he was trying to get out his anger, or perhaps his frustration.

I wasn’t sure why I just stood there, staring at him. Maybe it was simply fascination with his form.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was because the longer I looked at him, the more the warmth in my lower belly began to spread outward—and downward.

My cheeks flushed hot as I realized the undeniable truth. Right now, as I watched Eric hit his punching bag, I was turned on by him. By my own brother’s muscular, heaving, sweating form.

The realization made me feel almost dizzy with shame and confusion. No, this couldn’t be what was happening. This was so wrong, so taboo, and not something that I would ever let happen. I figured that it had to be my mind playing tricks on me, a side effect of everything that had happened that night at the party.

Yes, that had to be it. Eric’s prank had finally begun to work its magic on me. Perhaps I would wind up the butt of some huge joke, or ridiculed even further for letting my feelings get confused toward my own family.

And yet, for some reason, I just couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from the rippling play of his back muscles with every powerful swing. God, I hated that this was happening to me. I hated that he had done this to my mind.

I needed to leave, and quickly, before he caught me staring. I needed to get out of here, calm my mind, and come back to my senses. Quickly pivoting on my heel with the journal still tucked under my arm, I started to hurry back down the hallway.

But of course, nothing could ever be that easy.

“What are you doing in here?” Eric’s gruff voice made me freeze in the doorway, caught before I could slip away.

Slowly, I turned back to face him, my heart pounding. He stood with his hands on his hips, his glistening chest rising and falling with labored breaths as he pinned me with an accusatory stare.

“I… I was just passing by,” I stammered out, the lie feeling flimsy even to my own ears. Eric arched a single eyebrow skeptically, and I felt my face flame even hotter beneath his gaze.

“Likely story,” he said coolly.

I swallowed, realizing that it wasn’t worth trying to deny any longer. Finally, with my shoulders slumping, I said, “Actually, I… I was hoping to talk to you about something.”

“Oh yeah?” He grabbed a nearby towel and swiped it across his brow to clean off the fine layer of sweat that had accumulated there—another gesture that made me weak in the knees for reasons that I refused to believe. “What did you need to talk about?”

I swallowed hard, trying to regain my composure. “I wanted to talk about the party,” I finally said. “That whole… incident.”

A muscle ticked in his chiseled jaw. “You mean with the talisman? When you embarrassed me in front of everyone?”

I sighed, momentarily forgetting my flustered demeanor. “Eric, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” I insisted, taking a step closer despite my better judgment. “I just thought… Adrian said it would be a nice gift idea, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well, it was a stupid idea.” His eyes flashed with hurt. “You made it seem like I was just getting the same worthless trinket as him. I thought you had put some real thought into it, you know? That you would have thought about me without him telling you to.”

I frowned, furrowing my brow. “Why does that even matter?” I asked. “It’s just a trinket, Eric. You don’t have to read into it.”

Eric gaped at me for a moment, clearly taken aback by my words. And for a moment, I was taken aback, too. In fact, I even went to grab the journal from underneath my arm. “Here. I got you—”

“Whatever it is, I don’t want it.”

I froze. The journal, still tucked under my arm, suddenly felt like a ten-pound weight. “Why?” I asked. “Eric, can’t you see that I’m trying to make up with you?”

There was a long, heavy silence between us as Eric and I stared at each other. For a moment, just a moment, I thought I saw something unreadable flicker through his eyes—but before I could even process it, he turned and walked over to the window, still wiping the sweat from his body.

I sighed. “Look,” I said. “I’m sorry, Eric. I really am.”

“It’s fine. I’m sorry, too. For snapping at you.”

I paused then, narrowing my eyes at the back of his head. “What about all the other stuff?” I asked.

He glanced over his shoulder. “What other stuff?”

“Don’t make me say it.” I shook my head, lowering my voice. “What happened… in the closet… and the things you said.”

A tremor went through me at the memory of what had happened, at the scorching intensity of that heated make-out session. The fact that it still affected me like this now and was making me look at my brother in this light made it even worse. I hated it; but an apology would have helped.

Eric slowly turned, then, and his blue eyes met mine. “I won’t take any of that back.”

“If this is another one of your pranks, Eric, I swear…”

“Who said it was a prank?” He cut me off, an angry color rising in his chiseled cheeks. “Why would you think I would lie about something like that? When have I ever lied to you?”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. He was right—despite all his teasing and jokes over the years, I couldn’t actually remember a time when Eric had outright lied to me.

And somehow, that made this even worse.

Suddenly, I felt off-balance, like the world was tilting beneath my feet. “Eric, it’s… it’s not funny,” I stammered out. “What happened that night, what you said, it’s… it’s wrong. It’s messed up.”

“So what do you think of me then, Rowena?” Eric asked. “A creep?”

“N-No,” I replied. “But I do think you’re lying to me. Messing with me.”

“Why would I be messing with you over something like this?”

“Because!” I blurted out, my teary eyes finally meeting his. “Because… I don’t know, Eric! Maybe you’re trying to bring me down, or ruin my relationship with Adrian, or—”

Eric scoffed, the very sound causing me to jump. “If you really think I’m just a liar, Rowena, then maybe you should just go and confide in precious Adrian instead, then,” he spat out bitterly, cutting me off. “Since you obviously value his opinion over anything I could say or do.”

White-hot anger flashed through me at his accusatory tone, momentarily burning away the unsettling feelings I had. I realized, then, that this was not a battle worth fighting—that my ultimatum and the journal would mean nothing, and that he would never quit with this messed-up joke, even if it destroyed me.

“Fine, then. Maybe I will,” I shot back, turning on my heel and storming out of his room as unshed tears blurred my vision.