9. Everest

CHAPTER NINE

Everest

It is, in fact, not easy.

It seems like everywhere I go, Rhys is right around the corner. For someone who sleeps all day and works all night, he’s unusually present. Whether it’s coming home while I’m still awake, running into each other in the kitchen, or seeing the other by the elevator, it’s like he’s everywhere.

That might be why I’m hiding out in my room right now. I can hear him in the kitchen getting ready for work, and even though I’m starving, I’m determined to wait until he’s done and gone. He made himself very clear. The threat was put out there, a lingering sword hovering over me, and I don’t know what it’s going to take to make that chord snap. He hates me, and I can see it plain as day every time he looks my way. And since I don’t want to feel like a piece of shit twenty-four-seven, I choose to not engage.

When I hear the ding of the elevator, followed by the whoosh of it closing, I fly out the door. I take the stairs down to the kitchen two at a time, sort of hilariously, as I tear into the fridge. But when I see there’s nothing to eat, I get annoyed.

That motherfucker ate my food.

I growl as I slam the fridge shut. If he really despises me, he should want nothing to do with me and my leftovers. I know it’s petty as hell—on both his part and mine—to care this much but, damn it, I wanted my fried rice.

Yanking the fridge door open again, I look through the contents until I spot a six-pack of local beer. Beer that belongs to Rhys and an idea forms in my brain.

Is it petty? Absolutely.

Do I care? Not one single bit.

I take the entire pack to my room, because fuck him. Stripping down to my boxers, I flop on the bed, opening the can with a satisfying hiss, and gulp the first sip.

It tastes a little like fuck you, Rhys.

It’s the loud pounding on my bedroom door that wakes me up hours later. I look at the clock and see that it’s nearly four in the damn morning.

“What the hell?” I mumble, slipping out of bed with annoyance. The pounding continues, and I curse, screaming out, “Calm down! I’m coming!”

When I open the door, I’m immediately greeted by an extremely enraged Rhys. He’s still wearing his sleeveless XO shirt that looks irritatingly good on him and his backward baseball cap that’s drool worthy. It’s my sleepy haziness that causes me to take an extra second to recognize the look on his face.

He’s livid .

“The hell. It’s so fucking early. What do you want?”

But Rhys ignores me. Instead of answering, he shoulders past and into my room. His eyes dart everywhere as if he’s looking for something, and I have to bite back a snap. It’s too late—or early—to get into it with him.

Finally, his eyes settle on the empty beer cans on my nightstand. He whips his head at me, narrowing his eyes. “Seriously? You took my beer?”

My jaw drops. “Are you kidding? You took my leftovers!” And even I can hear how childish I sound.

This is fucking ridiculous.

“That was nearly twenty bucks you owe me,” he bites out, walking toward my nightstand and lifting the cans. “You drank all of them?”

“What are you doing buying twenty-dollar beer?” I counter, ignoring his latter question.

His head snaps back as he snarls, “Are you saying because I’m too poor to afford it?”

“What? No,” I stutter and shake my head. “I just mean that’s expensive for beer. Look, I’ll give you twenty bucks?—”

“I’m not your charity case.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’ve been living here rent free for the past four years?”

It’s the wrong thing to say, and I know it as soon as the words leave my mouth.

There’s a moment where both of us are frozen until Rhys takes two long strides to reach me. In an instant, I’m shoved until the back of my knees catch on the bed, sending me tumbling down. I land with a hard thud and my breath hitches when Rhys crawls over me.

I try to push him off, but I’m sleepy and he’s strong. He seizes my wrists, yanking my arms over my head. He uses his legs to trap mine, not allowing me to kick him away.

“Rhys—”

“Say it again,” he threatens, his face mere inches from mine so I can feel his hot breath fanning my lips.

My eyes widen. The fierce determination he’s carrying, the intense fire…

No, no, no.

I get hard. Achingly stiff, actually. I’ve always liked guys that were able to manhandle me and toss me around. It’s not something I find often considering how big I am. My body isn’t comprehending that this is Rhys who’s making me take interest.

Granted, Rhys is… okay, he’s fucking hot as hell. He’s my wet dream all tied together with a sinfully sweet bow. He’s tall, dark, and daunting—like he’s right out of a damn romance novel. Thick dark hair that’s always hidden behind a sexy backward baseball cap, strong arms with defined muscles, beautiful brown eyes that literally sparkle, and full lips.

Yeah, okay, I understand why my cock is currently trying to drill a hole through my jeans.

Rhys doesn't seem to notice, and if he does, he doesn’t care. He just keeps waiting for me to say something to justify throttling me. Since I value my life, I don’t challenge him back. Especially because it was a low blow. Especially because I now regret my childish action that was recklessly made in a spur of the moment. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”

“Do you think I’m just a freeloader? Living off your parents’ generosity just for the hell of it?” he questions in a hiss, squeezing my wrists to the point of pain. “You think that I don’t contribute as much as I can?”

“I’m sure you do. I didn’t mean?—”

“I’m here and I play my part. That’s more than I can say about you.”

That makes me pause, something simmering just under my skin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I contribute to this household while you’ve just been sitting pretty in your castle like a little prince.”

“Hey!” I thrash in his hold now. “That’s not true!”

“No?” he mocks, cocking his head with a sinister smirk. “You’re a lazy, entitled piece of shit, and I’m more of a brother to Elton than you’ll ever be.”

That’s what does it for me. Every single insecurity of mine manifests itself. From the way I’m not good enough to the fact that I’m not that bright. To how I struggle to have a relationship with my brother while also feeling some bitterness about living in his shadow. It makes me lose my shit because Rhys is a hundred percent correct. He’s more of a brother to Elton, he’s his favorite person, he’s everything I should be.

And I suddenly hate him for it.

I don’t know where this instinct comes from, but I slam my forehead up and against his nose, something primal in me satisfied when he curses and shoots up, falling on his ass.

Holy fuck, I just headbutted him.

He looks stunned for a moment, eyes wide with shock as a trickle of blood runs down his nose. It takes a second before retaliation shines bright in his gaze and he’s up and on his feet, barreling toward me.

He grabs the back of my neck just as his fist rises in the air. Just as he’s about to let loose all that rage, something stops him. His eyes narrow as he nibbles on his blood-covered bottom lip. He closes his eyes and sighs, letting me go. Taking a step back, he shakes his head as a sinister smirk curls his lips. Then he laughs, a deep and daunting sound that makes my knees shake.

“Oh, Everest,” he says in a sing-song tone, clicking his tongue at me. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

I expect him to do something like punch me back, but he doesn’t. He just walks out of my room, calling over his shoulder for me to stay away from his shit, and I’m left terrified.

Because I once again acted like an idiot, and I have a feeling I’m going to pay the price.