Page 10 of Sin

“And why is Ethan here?” I ask.

Ethan looks at me for the first time since I walked into the room, his eyes unusually bright, emitting warmth that seems to reach across the space and wrap around me. “Did you paint this?” he asks, gesturing at Barkley’s panting face.

I frown at the non-sequitur question. “No, I paid for a mediocre painting of a random golden retriever and hung it on my bedroom wall.”

His lips quirk. “It’s not mediocre. In fact, it’s really good. It looks so…” He turns back to the painting. “It looks real.”

Warmth washes over me at his compliment, even though the painting is pretty tepid for a student in her junior year of a Fine Arts program. Real is easy. Depth of feeling is what most art students find elusive.

Who cares about any of that? I need to know why the hell Noah invited Ethan to take part in a discussion about my falling grades.

“We’ve come up with a plan to help you,” Noah says.

My head jerks in his direction. “My grades are none of your?—”

“I need you to listen.” Noah lifts a hand. “You can argue later. Your grades might not be my business, but they are Mom and Dad’s. They pay your tuition.”

I grit my teeth. How dare he team up with Mom and Dad to ambush me. He should be on my side. He’s complained enough over the years about how often Mom and Dad have used their financial support to manipulate us. They wouldn’t even let me major in art without a business administration minor—what they call a practical plan B for if the whole “art thing” doesn’t pan out. Noah constantly complains about how often they remind him to make his studies a priority over football. That his chances of making it to the NFL are slim to none.

“What is your plan?” I ask, wanting to get this conversation over with.

Noah stares at me for a beat. “I asked Ethan to become your accountability partner. He’s willing to meet up with you to help you figure out?—”

“Absolutely not,” I say immediately, my hackles rising. “I don’t need an accountability partner. I just need a little more time to turn my grades around.”

Noah crosses his arms over his chest. “Whatever you’re doing isn’t working.”

My lips close. Goddamn him. I want to say something cutting, but I can’t when I know his bossiness is only coming from a place of fear. He’s asked me multiple times over the last several months if I’m doing okay. I’ve withdrawn from him since everything went down with Mason. I used to visit his apartment regularly, but I can’t do it now. I’ll be damned if I let Mason see how much his presence affects me.

And if I’m truly honest with myself, I’m afraid of him.

I haven’t been able to reason away the buzzing that starts in my head—the heart palpitations and clammy hands—the handful of times I’ve seen him since everything happened.

None of it is Noah’s fault. If he knew what Mason did, he’d move out of that apartment in a heartbeat. Hell, he’d probably even push me to go to the cops, which I’d never do.

Even knowing all that doesn’t make me resent Noah any less. Somehow, his close proximity to Mason feels like a betrayal. It’s irrational, but I can’t make the feeling go away. Just like how I can’t stop myself from ruminating on the events of that night and wishing I made different choices.

I narrow my eyes on Noah’s face. “It was an invasion of my privacy to bring Ethan into this. He already told me he knows all about my academic struggles. You had no right to say anything.”

Noah opens his mouth to speak, but Ethan talks over him. “She’s right.” His tone is firm. “You should have asked her permission before you brought me into this.”

Noah’s eyes grow huge, and I can’t stop my jaw from falling open. I place my hands on my hips as I turn to Ethan. “What the hell is this? You’re on my side?”

Ethan stands up straighter. “On this subject at least. He shouldn’t have asked me to be your accountability partner without getting you on board first. Still…” He squares his broad shoulders. “I agree with him that you need help. Whatever you’re doing now isn’t working.”

Anger flames in my chest, and I raise my chin. “I can’t focus at all lately. I don’t see how you’re going to fix that. Do you plan to do my goddamn work for me?”

I expected to annoy him, but his expression has grown…soft somehow. He tilts his head as he studies me. “Why can’t you focus? What’s changed recently?”

My heart jumps into my throat. Somehow it feels like he can see inside my mind. That he knows what happened with Mason.

That’s crazy. Mason wouldn’t have told a soul what happened.

He denied that anything happened at all. And he threatened that if I ever shared what didn’t happen, he’d send his family lawyer after me for defamation.

The chances of him succeeding with a claim like that are remote. I’ve done my research. Still, it would bring scrutiny onto me that I’m not ready to deal with.

I just want to forget everything, to go back to the girl I used to be.

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