Page 42 of Corrupt Obsession

She stiffened. “I’m fine.”

He stroked her arm. “That’s good to hear.”

She hovered on the precipice, wanting to know if what her mind was shrieking at her was true, but she didn’t voice it. Instead, she huddled beneath the umbrella of denial and let the flames of the small fire hypnotize her. She absorbed Jesse’s strength and warmth. She didn’t want things to change between them. This was familiar, comfortable, meant to be. That other stuff was titillating, but wrong on every level.

Her eyes narrowed as she spotted something in the fire. She took a step forward. “There’s a…” She fell silent as she got a better look. Her heart lodged in her throat. “Is that my top and shorts?”

“And underwear,” Jesse confirmed.

She whirled to face him. “Why are you burning it?”

His eyes were a mix of blue and orange flame.

“You know why.”

She crossed her arms. “No, I don’t.”

“Every time I’d see those shorts or top, I’d think of Tucker.”

Her breath stalled. Her face drained of all color, and she swayed.

“Hey.” Jesse drew her trembling form against him. “You aren’t okay. You should be lying down.”

Before she could speak, he picked her up and started toward the house.

“I told Mom and Dad you weren’t feeling well. Dad’s shift went long, so he went straight to bed. Mom made soup and then turned in. Are you just sore or do you need?—”

“What did you tell them?” she hissed.

“About what?”

“About what?” she echoed shrilly. “About your bruised knuckles, the hole in your wall, Tucker and…” Her throat constricted as she thought about what happened between them.

“They didn’t see the hole. I moved something in front of it until I can patch it up. They didn’t notice my hand, and there’s no reason for them to hear about Tucker. As far as they know, I brought you home from school, and you went to bed because you weren’t feeling well.”

He carried her into the house and settled her at the table before he made his way to the kitchen, where he busied himself at the stove. He sounded so matter of fact, so controlled and blasé, as if losing his temper and taking her virginity was nothing out of the ordinary. She didn’t know how to feel or behave. He was acting as if nothing had changed, so maybe it hadn’t?

He brought her chicken tortellini soup and bread rolls and made a bowl for himself.

“Do you want tea?” he asked.

“Water’s fine,” she said awkwardly and stared at the pills he set on the table. “What’s this?”

“Ibuprofen.”

Her cheeks heated as she swallowed the pills. As he began to eat, she took in her familiar surroundings. Everything looked as it should, but she felt different, like she’d gone to Narnia for a year and came back to find she hadn’t missed a second. But that’s what she wanted, right? For everything to be as it should?

She glanced at Jesse. His blood splattered shirt had been replaced with a pristine white tee and sweatpants. His gold cross was on display. The memory of it swinging back and forth as he thrust inside her made her womb clench. She clamped her thighs together and blew on her spoonful of soup before she took a bite. It was delicious. She hadn’t eaten since lunch, and it was now… She glanced at the clock. Almost eight.

“Do you want anything else?”

She focused on Jesse to discover he had inhaled his soup. Her mouth twitched. “No, thank you. I’m still working on it.”

He grinned at her. “Sorry, I was starving.”

She went solid as he kissed her forehead and got to his feet. Her eyes followed him to the kitchen as he rummaged in the fridge. If she hadn’t been an active participant in what happened today, she wouldn’t be able to sense that anything had happened. There were no strange undercurrents or awkwardness. Jesse was back to being the affectionate big brother and she… She looked down at her soup. She was going to resume playing her part of younger sister. That was best for everyone.

“You don’t like it?”

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