Four

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To his credit, Christopher doesn't follow me to the guest room. I curl on the bed in a ball, face stained beetroot red as the image of Christopher's face in my crotch is engrained on the backs of my eyelids.

I've never been promiscuous; Every notch on my bedpost was carefully dedicated to someone I'd been in a committed relationship with. One night stands or quick fumbles were never an idea that I'd entertained until I met Christopher. The way he holds himself, his impossible good looks, and the confidence he exudes all mix into a delicious cocktail that I can't help but drink. That - together with the fact I haven't gotten laid since I broke up with Ben – must have been what led me to being so goddamn easy.

The sound of the doorbell drifts through the gap under the thick wooden door of the guest room. It's followed by hesitant footsteps from the hall outside, and Christopher's annoyed voice.

"What the-- You can't just fucking barge in," he bellows. Whoever he speaks to completely disregards him, the click-clack of their shoes getting louder as they approach the room.

"She wouldn't have come to the door, so I came in to get her myself," the guest says in return, and it turns my blood cold. I recognise it, I've grown up with it, and the tone it wears is one that is reserved for chastising me. "Is she in here?"

As the door handle turns downward, I panic, looking for somewhere to hide but coming up with nothing. Fostering a steely look and crossing my arms, I prepare myself for an argument. Tobias is here to take me home undoubtedly, having found out about my stupid little stunt; if only he knew just how stupid I've been.

The door swings open to reveal my brother's fury; his eyes sweep the room until they land on me, scrutinising me as though looking for something. With his brow furrowed over icy blue eyes, his long legs take short strides towards me, hand enveloping my upper arm gently but with urgency.

"Let's go. I've got a car waiting downstairs - We can talk about this on the way home," he says, pulling me towards the door as I crane away from him.

"I'm not going anywhere Tobias," I say. "You can't come to Christopher's house uninvited and drag me from it; you're being fucking unreasonable."

"Like hell am I!" He hollers, his gaze flickering between me and Christopher. "So it's Christopher now, is it? On first name basis? How... cozy."

"Oh give it a rest," Christopher says, "she's told you she's not going anywhere so you can leave now."

"What, so you can fucking take advantage of my sister?" Tobias retorts, his face wrinkled with disgust. He drops his hand from my arm, balling it into a fist so tight the knuckles whiten.

"I'm standing right here," I say frustratedly. "If you two could stop speaking like I'm not in the room, that would be great."

"He's your tenant, Ashleigh," Tobias says as he turns his back to Christopher, the hardened stern expression replaced by one of kind sibling concen. "And I understand you're here out of some misplaced feeling of obligation and responsibility, but the company is handling it."

"No, they really aren't. They've told him it'll be a month until reparations are carried out; hence why I'm here. I'm seeing for myself how bad it is, and if I see fit, I'll handle it for myself."

"Then get a damn plumber out, because you shouldn't be sleeping in his guest room Ashleigh! You know nothing about him."

"And you do?" I ask. "Because you must do to be so judgemental towards him. Christopher has been nothing but kind-"

"We went to boarding school together, actually," Tobias says. "I've got a pretty good idea of what he's like. He was one to screw anything with a heartbeat and a pussy."

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