Her bed was still unmade from the night before. Her pillow still bore the imprint of where she'd curled up, fingers tangled in her sheets, breath uneven and hot, trying — failing — not to think about him.
Nathan.
Her stepbrother. The one who annoyed her for sport. Who had a new girl every week. Who smirked when she was angry and rolled his eyes when she talked.
And yet.
Something about hearing him like that — raw, real, lost in someone else's body — had awakened something in her she couldn’t suppress last night.
Adria sank onto the edge of her bed, running a hand through her damp hair. Her thighs pressed tightly together without thinking as she remembered what she did. Her stomach twisted.
This wasn’t normal.
This wasn’t okay.
But she was still burning from the inside out just at the tho
