A notch forms between her brows.
“His addiction has been really hard for me. I know I need to let go. The first thing you learn in any recovery program is that trying to interfere—trying to keep your addict loved one safe—is actually worse for them, but I still find myself doing it. I still find myself interfering in his life, trying to make things better for him. He probably already told you it was my decision to cancel the tour. He didn’t want to do it. He said he was fine, and I think he meant it. But I was worried about what would happen when the parties started—having to be around people drinking and doing drugs when he was so fresh out of rehab—and ultimately, it’s my call. So I cancelled it.” I take a deep breath. This is the first time I’ve even fully admitted this to myself.
“So what?”
Her words startle me. I search her face to gauge her seriousness, and her expression matches her blasé tone.
I frown. “So it’s bad for his recovery if I try to control him.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like you have an ankle bracelet on him or keep him locked in a basement. You just love him… What?” she asks when I avert my gaze.
“I have his location on my phone.” When her eyes widen, heat washes over my face.
Good God, if she only knew I have hers, too.
“I mean, it’s not like I forced him to share it with me. It was something we all agreed on—my mom, dad, and him—probably two or three rehabs ago. All three of us have it.” My lips close, and the heat creeping into my cheeks intensifies when I realize none of these defenses apply to my behavior with her.
“So if you all agreed on it as a family, why are you stressing about it?”
“Because it’s another way for me to control him. If I ever see that he’s in a suspicious place, I’d hunt him down in a second, and I’d prevent him from facing the real consequences of his actions, which is exactly what recovery programs tell you not to do.”
“So what?”
I stare at her, unable to believe what I’m hearing. She’s unabashedly ridiculed me for being a control freak for as long as I can remember.
“I’d do the same thing,” she says. “And I wouldn’t feel at all guilty about it, because of course I would. I love Hunter. And your love for him is like nothing I’ve ever seen in a sibling relationship. You’re more like a dad to him than your own dad. Of course you’d go out of your way to protect him. It’s completely natural. Who are the people in these recovery programs, anyway? Are they superhuman? Are they Jesus?” She shakes her head. “I don’t trust people like that.”
A smile rises to my lips. “You don’t trust Jesus?”
“No.” She smiles lazily. “I don’t trust noble people. I never have. I only trust selfish and petty people. At least their choices make sense to me, because I can relate to them.”
Something loosens in my chest. I love how she accepts her own flaws. How she accepts the flaws of others, even selfish control freaks like me.
She dazzles me.
When she gives me an odd look, I realize the warmth and intensity of my feelings must be all over my face. I look away, schooling my face into a blank expression. “They aren’t noble people. They know it’s hard to let go, but their information is based on what works and what doesn’t. Trying to control Hunter isn’t good for him. It’s probably not good for me, either.”
“If you’re so worried about it, work on it. Treat it like an addiction. Take steps…or whatever. The first step is admitting you have a problem, right? You just did that with me. Your next step can be removing his location from your phone.”
I swallow, the thought alone making my pulse race.
If I did that, I’d need to remove hers, too.
“I shouldn’t be talking to you about this,” I say. “It’s too personal.” Without even looking at her, I feel the warmth between us diffuse in an instant, and I wish I could pull it all back. I wish we could be in harmony always.
“You’re right.” Her voice is tight. “And I guess you flew me here for a reason, huh?” She stands up from the couch, lowering her hands to the seam of her ridiculous dress. In one swoop, she pulls it over her head and tosses it onto the floor. “We should get to it.”
I know I need to apologize, but the sight of her naked body after I’ve been so starved for her makes my need for her too urgent for words. I stand up and walk in her direction, my gaze fixed on her brown nipples.
I grab her by the waist and yank her against me. “I’ve been waiting a fucking eternity for this.”
When I look down at her face, her eyelids are heavy. All trace of her earlier hurt are gone. I pull her in the direction of the bed, lowering my head and kissing her with all the hunger I’ve felt these last twenty-four hours.
After pressing her down on the mattress, I run my fingers along the seam of her pussy lips, groaning when I feel how wet she is already. Without thinking, I lift my fingers to my lips and suck them clean.
She moans. “Oh my God, it makes me crazy when you do things like that.”
I raise my hand high in the air and bring it down to the side of her ass with a resounding smack. “This isn’t about you. This is for me only. You’re being punished.”