Chapter 17 When our breathing finally slowed from frantic panting, when every aftershock had run its course, neither of us spoke. The room was quiet in a way that didn't feel gentle. It didn't come with comfort or peace or the steadying realization that this was okay or right or fixed. It was more like an aftershock, like the eerie stillness of the eye of a hurricane. His chest rose and fell beneath my cheek, one arm still curled loosely around my back. I wanted to let myself enjoy it, wanted to linger in the sound of his heartbeat thrumming away or the sight of his chest hair stuck down from sweat and friction. But I couldn't stop focusing on how still he'd gone beneath me. Too still. Not the calm, deep still of sleep, but worse. I willed myself to breathe fully as I sat up, slowly pulling the sheets up to cover my chest. The space between my thighs ached satisfyingly, but my chest was clamping down, filling with questions, filling with dread. He didn't stop me from moving. But he didn't stay still for long either. Before I could question it, he was leaning off the side of the bed, grabbing his discarded t-shirt from the floor like we were done here, like whatever this was had clearly ended. I wrapped the sheet tighter around myself, tucking it under my arms, and stared at him, heart thudding against my ribs. "Matt," I rasped. He didn't answer. That didn't stop me. "I don't know what that was." My tone was soft, gentle, the same one I used when I was trying to talk seriously with the pre-teens in my class who were flunking. "But it didn't feel casual." He froze, one arm pushed through the arm hole. I saw it, then - the way his lips parted, the way his body locked. "Matt?" I tried again, willing my voice to stay steady. He blinked once, twice, before his jaw clenched and he sat up fully, pulling his shirt over his head like it gave him a wall to hide behind. "I'm sorry," he said carefully. No. No, no, no. When he spoke again, it was as if every word had been selected with the express purpose of trying not to upset someone when that was inevitable. "I shouldn't have let it get this far," he continued. "That's on me." My stomach dropped straight through the floor. "What the fuck does that mean?" "It means I led you on," he said, his Adam's apple working, his gaze far off in the distance. "I'm not... Fuck, Sienna, I'm not looking for anything. I should have been clearer about that." I stared at him, blinking like that would somehow make him make sense. "You're not looking for anything?" "I told you I don't do relationships," he said, the words a little tighter now. "I told you why." "When you were apologizing for panicking and running away. And then-that." I gestured to the sheets beneath me, to my bare body wrapped in them. He looked at me then, his gaze cold, controlled, locked down. I almost wished he'd stayed looking at the fucking wall. "No," I scoffed, pushing off the bed, dragging the sheet with me like armor as I stood. "No, you don't get to do that, Matt. You don't get to act like that meant nothing. You don't get to just⁠-" "I never said it meant nothing," he said. "What I meant was that it wasn't supposed to mean anything." "Oh, fantastic," I snapped. "Glad we're figuring out the semantics here." "I'm being honest." "No." My volume climbed, my anger biting through, because fuck him, this wasn't fair. "You're being cruel. You're trying to walk it back again because you're scared of what that was." He pushed off the mattress, calm, even, grabbing his jeans from the floor and stepping into them. "I never made you any promises." I physically recoiled, the breath leaving me all at once, half angry and half absolutely blown away by how insane this was. "Wow," I whispered. He winced, just barely, but I noticed it. He didn't even try to take it back. I shook my head, a bitter, angry laugh crawling up my throat. "I must be the dumbest woman alive. I mean, really, sleeping with my ex's brother? Again? After telling myself that I wouldn't, that I needed to keep my distance so I wouldn't end up falling and then fucking falling anyway⁠-" "Don't do that," he said, the words punching out of him. "Don't be self-deprecating. Don't make it about⁠-" "What?" I interrupted, my stomach twisting, my anger rising. "About me being stupid enough to believe that you actually cared about me? That maybe, just maybe, this wasn't some fucked up game to you?" "It wasn't a game!" He shot back, the boom of his voice cutting through the air. "Don't put words in my mouth." "Then tell me what it was, Matt!" He stared at me, his chest rising and falling too quick, too wild. The silence stretched too long. I dug my fingers into the sheet, my heart beating so hard it made my sternum ache. "You know," I said quietly, "I told myself I wouldn't fall for this again. I told myself that I was just coming here to hear you out, that I could handle you, that I could handle this. That if I just didn't believe it was real, it couldn't hurt me." He opened his mouth to speak, but I kept going. "But then you opened up. You apologized. You kissed me like you fucking meant it, Matt-you fucked me like you meant it. You fucked me like you couldn't imagine walking away. And I let myself think, just for a goddamn minute, that maybe I wasn't being stupid, that maybe you weren't going to run this time." His nostrils flared, his breathing evening out as he regained control. "I'm not running. I'm telling you what this is." I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. My eyes stung, my chest ached like a ton of bricks had fallen on it and caved it in, and I was left splattered on the floor surrounded by my own damn viscera. He raked a hand through his hair, watching me with an expression that either said I want to kill you, or I can't let you leave, and I couldn't figure out which one it was. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to know. "I never wanted to hurt you." I turned my back to him, not trusting myself to stare without tears forming, and grabbed for my clothes, hastily pulling them on one by one, my bra two hooks looser than I wanted and my shirt hanging wrong in a way I didn't give myself time to try to fix. I thanked whatever God existed that I'd worn my easiest shoes to get in and out of before I headed straight for the bedroom door and wrenched it open. I could still feel his hands on my skin, his mouth on mine, his breath on my ear when he'd whispered that I was everything. And all I wanted, still, was for him to take it back. To tell me he didn't mean it. But he didn't. He didn't stop me, didn't move, didn't say a word. I managed to make it halfway down the stairs before the front door flew open. "Sienna!" Zach's voice cracked through the hallway like sunlight breaking through storm clouds, shrill and happy and pure in a way I wasn't sure how to be right now. His tiny sneakers slammed into the floor as he barreled through the living room, backpack bouncing, and the second I stepped off the stairs, he launched himself into me. I caught him mid-jump, my breath catching as I hugged him tight against my chest, his arms wrapping around my neck. "You're here!" he chirped, feet kicking on either side of my hips in excitement. The sound of footsteps on the stairs behind me only made this so much worse. God. God fucking dammit. My throat burned as I kissed the top of his head. "Hey, tiger." He pulled back just enough to look at me, eyes wide, beaming, a little tiger shark pin stuck into his shirt. "Guess what? I got a gold star today at school. That's worth, like, ten green stars." "You did?" I asked, faking enthusiasm as best as I could. "What for?" "'Cause I knew all the months in order! Even got March and May in the right spots." "Look at you!" I grinned, my eyes going wide. "I get those ones mixed up all the time." He giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world. "Ms. Broderick said I should get a prize, and I told her that I wanted it to be going swimming and then I thought about you and how you taught me to float on my back like a big kid and oh, I got new dinosaur sheets and they glow in the dark." I laughed, a genuine one, despite his father's stare burning a hole in my back. "Glow in the dark dinos? Are you kidding me? Those sound amazing." "They are!" he said, wriggling enough that I knew I should probably put him down. He immediately grabbed my hand. "C'mon, you gotta see 'em. There's triceratops and everything!" He pulled me back onto the stairs, and I turned, watching as Matt took the last few steps down in complete silence. I went to see the dinosaurs anyway. ---- My room felt suffocating now. I'd left as quickly as I could manage without completely disappointing Zach, oohing and ahhing when he showed me all the little things he was proud of in his room. But Matt hadn't said a word to me as I'd gone to the door, his gaze locked on me, his throat working like there was something there he wanted to let out but just couldn't manage it. So, I'd left his credit card on the table by the door and walked out. But here, in the dark, my face buried in the pillow and the covers pulled too tight around me like they could somehow hold the pieces of me together, I let all of it sink in. And I hated myself. For falling again. For being so simple to crack. For believing so easily, that maybe I wasn't just a temporary comfort or an easy tool for him to play against Ryan. I should have known better. I did know better, and I still let it happen, still let him in, still let him touch me like it meant something to both of us, to him. A sob slipped out before I could stop it. Then another. And another. I cried until my throat stung, until my chest ached, until I'd gone well past the gasping, shuddered breaths and the snot and the feeling like I was dying, until I had nothing left to give and my head pounded, until I could barely remember what it felt like to believe that things could go right. But even through the tears, a stupid, angering thought remained, so latched on what I couldn't scrub it off if I tried. What if it was real? What if that first look in the first-class lounge, that first spark, the broken crystal and the banter and the way he'd spoken to me like I was interesting-what if that was some kind of insane, idiotic, love-at-first-sight nonsense? Instant. Illogical. All-consuming, sticking around for far too long when and where it shouldn't. If that's what this was, if that's what I'd fallen into, then this was so much worse. Worse than Ryan, worse than Lauren, worse than any betrayal that had come before. Because I'd let this happen to myself. I hadn't turned it off when I should have. I'd let myself believe in him. I'd let myself believe I could have him. I knew better now. But it didn't make it hurt any less.