Page 64 of Beautifully Ruined

“Fuck me.” Cade pulls his fingers from me and shoves his hoodie at me. Spinning around and standing in front of me as I hurriedly pull it on, missing the arm holes three times, but I manage it, and then I pull it shut, covering my nakedness and shame, and I zip it up with shaking fingers.

Maybe I imagined it, maybe I imagined Jack out of guilt, as part of the backlash for what we’ve been doing. Maybe?—

I peek past Cade.

Jack is striding over.

“Jack,” Cade says. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He stands in front of us, staring, his lip pulling back, but I can see the hurt in his eyes, and I’m now suddenly burning with shame that threatens to drown me.

I’m about five inches tall and shrinking. I drop my head against Cade’s back.

This isn’t how I wanted him to find out.

It doesn’t matter what he did or didn’t do.

It’s still Jack. Still someone I care about.

And…

Hell.

I close my eyes, Cade’s erratic and fast heartbeat vibrating through me. And I shift closer, into his heat, like I’m trying to somehow become part of him where no one will ever find me.

I’m floundering.

“I stopped by to talk to you, brother.” Jack gives a bitter laugh. “Guess I should have texted, since you’re so busy with fucking my ex-girlfriend.”

Chapter Eleven

CADE

Jack’s eyesburn into me as he glares and any other time, I’d feel like a complete prick for this.

I still do…I guess, but even knowing he cheated on Vi, even knowing this is one hell of a fucked up situation, I’m too aware of her behind me, head buried in my back, hands clutching at me, and her body shaking.

I don’t think Vi is crying.

But the humiliation…

I know she shouldn’t be even entertaining it, but how can she not, when it burns a path up my spine and back of my neck to my skull.

The humiliation is very specific. I’d get her off on being caught by someone else.

Problem is, Jack isn’t someone else. He’s my brother, her ex, and he’s staring at me with betrayal and pain painted in anger, and I don’t want him to say a thing to her that’ll scar her, make her ashamed of her desires, her needs.

Fuck it, I don’t want her turned off of this thing we have.

We might love each other, but love is delicate.

I breathe in.

“Jack, man, come on, it’s not what it looks like.”

He shoves his hands in his hoodie. “So, I imagined my girlfriend naked, and you finger banging her in public? My bad.”

“This isn’t the place?—”