I sigh, tugging on my shirt. “He won't. He'll be too busy searching for a dead man.”
“What do you mean?”
“Con, it's cold and snowing out here. How about we take this convo inside,” Everett suggests.
“Fine, but this conversation isn't over.”
“It is tonight,” I say, squeezing past him. Everett follows behind me, resting a hand on my shoulder.
“Wait. He's not staying here.” Connor slams the door behind us.
“Goodnight, Con,” Everett says, guiding me toward his room.
“Ev, are you not hearing what I said?”
“Oh, I hear you just fine, I'm just too tired to listen.”
I turn around, flashing Connor a smile. “It's Christmas Eve Eve, Con, have a heart. I'll even help finish decorating that sad tree of yours.”
Everett and I both laugh, entering his room. I don't have to turn around to know Connor is shooting daggers behind me.
“Your brother hates me,” I say, pulling off my shirt.
Everett moves around me and locks the door. “Don't worry about him. He'll get over it.”
“Maybe, or I might have to take care of him too.”
Everett freezes, his eyes widening. I laugh, pulling off my pants and underwear. “I'm kidding. It's a joke ha ha.”
“Yeah, hilarious.” He shoots me a glare, taking off his clothes. He glances between us, wrinkling his nose. “We both need a shower. We smell like that awful cellar.”
“Sounds like a new cologne they should carry in department stores.Awful Cellarby Calvin Klein. What do you think?”
“I think the cold front has frozen your brain.”
I laugh and follow him into the bathroom. He turns on the shower and I glance in the mirror, wrinkling my face at my reflection. My face is flushed, eyes are bloodshot, hair is a wreck, and lips are swollen. I look thoroughly fucked and no doubt Connor could tell. It's probably what made him angrier. He knows about me and his brother. He won't be the only one for long. My dad might be distracted for now but it won't last forever.
As soon as he's done burning the world down in my mom's name, he'll be heading this way to finish destroying the man who's not only wrecked his life but who has also been secretly fucking his son.
“You coming, or what?” Everett stands in the tub with the shower door open.
“I thought I already did.” I wink.
He huffs, standing back. “Hopefully while we wash all that grime and cum off you, the horrible jokes will wash down the drain as well.”
I snort, stepping in behind him. “You would miss them too much if they were gone.”
He reaches for the shampoo bottle, grinning. “I guess they are better than your mood swings.”
“You can't live without those either, admit it.”
He rubs suds into my hair and kisses my mouth. “I can't be without you.”
My breath catches. Fuck him for doing this to me. Why does he keep saying this shit? I swear my heart cracks a little every time he opens his mouth.
We wash each other, lingering a little too long in some places than others. The way he's so comfortable with kissing and touching me now is such a big change from over a month ago. I made him this way. He doesn't know it either, and I'll never tell him. He'll keep falling for me until he's too deep to dig himself out. He's my new personal toy, and I'll continue to play with him until he's too broken to be of use to anyone else.
He moves and breathes for me now. When I say jump, he'll say how high, and when I'm ready to make him beg for me, he will get on his fucking knees.