CHAPTER 7
You know when something terrible happens, and your brain tries to protect you by pretending it’s not real? Yeah, that was me—frozen, standing in the doorway like some extra in a bad high school soap opera. The girl on the table? None other than Taylor, the queen of the cheerleaders, sitting there like a smug cat, looking down on me like I’d wandered into her royal court.
And the guy practically draped over her?Â
My brother, Asher.
I could feel my blood pressure spike so fast I was surprised my brain didn’t short-circuit. Taylor was mid-kiss, her lip gloss smeared all over his face, when she finally noticed me standing there, staring like a deer in headlights. She blinked, then blinked again, before tilting her head with a confused pout like I was the weirdo for not announcing myself before walking in on her mid-makeout.
“Who’s… this?” she asked, her voice dripping with that same syrupy tone she used when pretending to be nice to underclassmen.Â
Like she was genuinely confused about why I, Asher’s twin sister, was standing in his room. Oh, sorry Taylor, let me just respect your privacy while you defile my brother with your sticky lip gloss and bad decisions.
Asher shot her a look that was pure death glare, but Taylor just shrugged, hopping down from the table like it was no big deal. Her movement was all legs and hair flip as if we weren’t standing in the middle of a disaster.
“I’ll let you two… talk,” she added, dragging out the word ‘talk’ like she was already bored.Â
She shot me a smirk before sauntering out the door, her hips swaying like she was on a runway. The whole scene felt so painfully cliché, I almost expected a camera crew to pop out from behind the couch and yell, “Cut!”
Once she was gone, it was just me and Asher. Alone. And awkward as hell.
Asher was doing this thing where he looked guilty, but not guilty enough, you know? Like the kind of guilty where you get caught stealing cookies before dinner—not the kind where you get caught snogging another girl when you have a girlfriend.
“Uh… my bad,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. He scratched the back of his neck, a classic Asher move when he didn’t know what to say—like this little tic was going to make me less mad.
“My bad?” I echoed, staring at him in disbelief.Â
“That’s what you’ve got? My bad?!” My voice was rising, and I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me like a volcano about to blow.Â
“Asher, are you serious right now?!”
He raised both hands in a pathetic gesture of surrender, his eyes darting around the room like he was looking for an escape hatch.Â
“Look, it’s not that big of a deal. I mean, it’s just… you know, it gets boring after a while. Being with the same person all the time, I mean.”Â
The words “boring” and “the same person” hit me like a punch to the gut. Boring? That’s how he was justifying this? BORING?!
I stared at him, mouth open, utterly dumbfounded.
 “Boring?” I repeated, incredulous.Â
“Oh, I’m sorry—did your long-term, committed relationship get in the way of your need for constant entertainment?” I threw my hands in the air, completely losing it.Â
“Did Alya not juggle or ride a unicycle for you today, so you decided to make out with Taylor?”
Asher opened his mouth to respond, but I cut him off. “Let me get this straight. You cheated on Alya because you were… bored?”
He sighed, clearly regretting every word that had just come out of his mouth. “It’s not like that. It’s just… sometimes things get, you know, stale—”
“Stale?” I threw my hands up again in frustration.Â
“What are you, a loaf of bread? You don’t just go stale, Asher! People don’t ‘expire’ like day-old bagels! And if you’re feeling stale, maybe try doing something about it that doesn’t involve shoving your tongue down Taylor’s throat!”
He ran a hand through his hair, clearly at a loss. I almost felt bad for him. Almost.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? It was stupid. I just… it happened, alright?”
“‘It just happened,'” I repeated, mimicking his voice.Â
“Yeah, because when Taylor practically throws herself at you, what else could you possibly do but make out with her?”
He winced but didn’t argue. Because what could he say? He was caught, and he knew it.
I shook my head, disgusted. I couldn’t even look at him anymore.Â
“Don’t touch me,” I snapped as he reached out, probably to put a hand on my shoulder like that would somehow make this better. I stepped back, arms crossed.Â
“I can’t believe you. Alya doesn’t deserve this.”
His face softened with guilt, and for a second, I almost saw the old Asher—the one who wasn’t a cheating jerk. But then he opened his mouth and completely ruined it.
“Just… don’t tell her, okay?” he pleaded, his voice low.Â
“Please, Nova. She doesn’t need to know.”
I stared at him for a long moment, the anger simmering under my skin.Â
Finally, I said, “I’m not going to tell her.”Â
His face lit up with relief, but I wasn’t done. “Not because of you. But because Alya deserves better than finding out from me.”
With that, I turned and marched out the door, leaving Asher standing there, probably wondering how he’d managed to screw up this badly.
I stepped out of the building, the cool air hitting me like a slap in the face. It was like a physical reminder that, yep, this was real, and my brother was officially the worst. I hugged myself against the cold, shivering as the wind bit at my skin. The anger was still boiling inside me, but now it was starting to mix with sadness. A sadness that left a heavy weight on my chest.
I didn’t even notice the door behind me creak open until something warm and heavy was draped over my shoulders. I flinched, startled, and turned just as Eric stepped into my peripheral vision, his voice a low, deep rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.
“You okay, Skylar?”
The sound of his voice almost made me jump out of my skin. I mean, first of all, why did he keep calling me Skylar? Second of all, where did he even come from? Did he just appear out of thin air like some kind of tall, brooding ninja?
I glanced up at him—because, let’s be real, I didn’t have much of a choice when the guy was over a foot taller than me—and saw the concern etched on his face. His eyes were colder than a winter storm, but there was something soft in them, something that almost made me want to curl up in a ball and cry on his shoulder.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I muttered, my voice coming out more wobbly than I intended. “I’m fine.”
Eric raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Sure, you are,” he said, deadpan, as he casually slung an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to his side like it was no big deal.Â
The warmth from his body was enough to make the cold air feel a little less harsh, and I found myself leaning into him, my head pressing against his chest.
Except my head didn’t exactly reach his chest. Nope, it was more like… his stomach. Because Eric was ridiculously tall, and I was ridiculously not.
So there I was, awkwardly sobbing into Eric’s stomach, and he just… let me. No teasing, no questions, no awkward pats on the back. Just silence and warmth and the comforting weight of his arm around me.
After what felt like forever, I finally pulled myself together enough to speak. “I hate him,” I mumbled into his hoodie, my voice muffled. “I really do.”
Eric sighed softly. “No, you don’t.”
“Okay, maybe not,” I grumbled, wiping my nose on my sleeve because I was too far gone to care about dignity. “But I really, really want to.”
He let out a soft chuckle. “I can’t blame you.”
After a few more minutes of standing there, me still wrapped in his jacket and him acting like human furniture, Eric finally spoke again.Â
“You wanna go home?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice to answer without cracking.
“Come on, then,” he said, guiding me over to Ryder’s Jeep parked nearby. “We’ll take Ryder’s car. He won’t care. I’ll bring it back after I drop you off.”
Too exhausted to argue, I climbed into the passenger seat and sank into the leather, my body completely drained. Eric didn’t say much on the drive back, but it wasn’t awkward. It was just… peaceful. Quiet, but not the bad kind of quiet.
When we pulled up to the dorms, I hesitated before getting out of the car. I turned to look at Eric, who was still sitting in the driver’s seat with his usual unreadable expression. His eyes were calm, though, almost like he’d been through this exact scenario a hundred times and knew just how to handle it.
I forced a small smile, feeling a mix of gratitude and awkwardness. “Thanks,” I mumbled, my voice still shaky from everything that had happened earlier. “For, you know… being here.”
Eric just shrugged, but there was a ghost of a smirk on his lips. “No problem,” he said. Then, with his usual dry humor, he added, “You should speak more, Skylar, or people might think you’re mute.”
I rolled my eyes, but a tiny laugh slipped out despite myself. “Stop calling me Skylar. No one calls me that.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I do.”
“Well, stop it,” I shot back, playfully swatting his arm
Eric’s smirk widened a fraction, but he didn’t say anything more. Instead, he watched me get out of the car and head towards the dorms. As I reached the door, I glanced back to see him still sitting there, one hand resting on the steering wheel, looking far too comfortable in Ryder’s Jeep.
It was only then that I realized something. I was still wearing his jacket.
“Hey!” I called out, turning around and holding the jacket out like I was ready to return it. “Your jacket!”
Eric leaned out of the window, his expression completely nonchalant. “Keep it,” he said with a shrug. “You look like you need it more than me right now.”
Before I could argue, he drove off into the night, leaving me standing there, staring after him like an idiot. I glanced down at the oversized leather jacket, the warmth still lingering from his body. A part of me wanted to chase after him and return it, but the other part—the more exhausted, emotionally drained part—couldn’t find the energy to care.
With a sigh, I trudged back to my dorm, the familiar hum of the building’s fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. I opened the door quietly, hoping not to wake up anyone else in the hall, and stepped inside. The room was dark and still, exactly how Zuri and I left it.
I tossed my backpack on the floor and curled up on the couch, still wearing Eric’s jacket. It smelled like his cologne—something warm and woodsy, with just a hint of something crisp, like the wind on a fall day. It was comforting in a way I didn’t expect, especially after the chaotic mess of an evening I’d just had.
But then, as I pulled the jacket tighter around myself, a thought hit me like a ton of bricks.
“I didn’t return his jacket,” I muttered to the empty room.
And with that, I felt a strange, exhausted laugh bubble up inside me. Of all the things I could be worrying about—my brother’s cheating, Taylor’s smug face, Alya finding out—the only thing I could focus on was the fact that I was now, officially, that girl. The one who accidentally steals a guy’s jacket and doesn’t know how to return it without looking awkward.
The laugh turned into a sigh as I sank deeper into the couch cushions, pulling the jacket around me like a blanket. Maybe tomorrow I’d figure out how to give it back. Maybe tomorrow I’d have to face Alya and decide whether or not to tell her about Asher’s indiscretions. Maybe tomorrow I’d feel less like my world was spiraling out of control.
But tonight?
Tonight, I was just going to sleep in Eric’s stupid, oversized jacket and try to pretend, just for a few hours, that everything wasn’t falling apart.
Author’s note:
I think this chapter is longer than the normals, welp their romance is growing, slowly but surely. <3 ily
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