Lila

“Fuck… Lila… God, fuck, Lila—”

The words hit me like a slap the second I pushed the storage bathroom door open.

I froze in the doorway, one hand still on the knob, the other clutching the stack of clean towels Mom had asked me to grab. The little room was cramped and dim, shelves packed with extra toilet paper, half-used bottles of shampoo, and holiday decorations that never quite made it back to the attic. The single bare bulb above the sink threw harsh light across the narrow space.

And across Ryan.

My stepbrother stood completely naked in front of the mirror, one hand braced on the edge of...