My breath hitched.
The steam became thick and suffocating as the showers busied. Until one-by-one the other players left, casting furtive glances at the three of us. I no longer cared. Drew peeled my filthy shirt over my head with a gentleness that upended my view of him. The way he dragged the towel over my skin had me leaning against the wall to stop my legs from giving out.
‘It’s okay. We’ve got you.’ Sarah whispered as she pressed her forehead to mine.
I wanted to believe her.
Then the door slammed open.
‘What thehellwas that?’ Mum’s voice tore through the room. Her heels clicked against the tile like a loose board in a hurricane, every step screamingdanger.
‘Do you know who was watching? Do you realise what you’ve done?’ Not a hint of concern in her voice. Just pure, unbridled rage.
I flinched. My words caught in my throat, suddenly thick and sticky. Choked by humiliation.
But Drew planted his feet and squared up to her. His jaw ticking.
‘Enough,’ he snapped.
Mum narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Don’t you dare?—’
‘No,’ Drew barked, stepping closer to her. ‘You don’t get to come in here and tear him down. Not after what he just gave out there. He nearly killed himself trying to live up to your impossible standards. You should be proud of him, not crucifying him.’
The room stilled.
Mum’s lips thinned in anger. Eyes as sharp as broken glass. But for once, she had no comeback.
She fled to the hall with a quick turn on her heel, bottling up all that anger. We’d be in for it when we got home.
Silence threaded the three of us together, Sarah linking one hand with Drew’s and the other with mine. Holding us together. A solidarity born from our weeks of scurrying around together like rats in the night.
My chest rattled as I tried not to pass out. Drew reached over and squeezed my shoulder.
‘She doesn’t get to define you. Not anymore.’
‘We’re your family. We’ve got you. That’s all that matters.’ Sarah kissed my temple. Her lips were a sweet balm.
And sitting there with sweat and shame clinging to me, I felt something shift.
Like maybe I wasn’t alone under the weight of it all.
TWENTY-THREE
SARAH
Ileaned back against the broadness of Jake’s chest, the lavender-scented water swishing around us. My head rested just beneath his chin as he breathed steadily, his breath tickling my wet neck.
Drew sat with his arms sprawled along the edges of the large copper tub, across from us, his gaze unreadable. He looked glorious. Those dark tattoos such a contrast compared to my legs, which were tucked between his. Like he was a physical embodiment of desire. Dark and ink-stained.
There was no smirk raising his lips, for once. Just his all-consuming presence. Quiet. Possessive. Brooding.
Jake traced his fingers over my chest. Not sexually, but just a shared intimacy. A tender touch that had me melting against him. Drew followed Jake’s fingers, his look lascivious.
There I sat, sandwiched between sweetness and the devil.
Then Drew looked at me.
He leaned forward and brushed a soaked lock of hair from my face.
