𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝

Chapter Three

B E L L A M Y

"What the fuck?" He made no move to cover his groin, instead, he just looked at me with his brows furrowed, green eyes boring into mine.

His voice seemed to flip a switch inside me, and I bit back instantly, my tone just as harsh. "Ever heard of locking a door?"

I stared into his eyes, afraid that if I didn't, my sight would lower to less appropriate places, and crossed my arms.

"Uhm, who the fuck are you?" he asked, his gaze wandering over my body. I suddenly realized I probably looked like I just woke from a coma. Which isn't very far from the truth.

I tried to ignore the fact that my hair was in a half loosened, messy ponytail, blonde hairs already free from their containment and sticking up all around my face, or that I hadn't shaved my legs in a good two weeks, while I was wearing shorts.

"Excuse you?" I scoffed, able to ignore his toned physique as he turned off the shower. "I live here, asshole. Jesus, you haven't changed a bit."

Memories of the past came flooding back, and I clenched my jaw.

He seemed surprised by my answer, and I threw my arms in the air out of frustration, quickly turning and storming out of the bathroom. Didn't Isaac tell him I had moved in?

Whatever.

Slamming my door closed, I fell face-first on the bed, sighing into the sheets. Where was Isaac anyway?

I heard the shower back on, and I flipped onto my back, listening to the water running as I stared at the ceiling. My eyes narrowed when I tried to push away flashes of Noah under the shower. The fact that I couldn't get the image of him naked out of my head, made me even angrier at him.

I waited until I heard the door to Noah's room close before I tiptoed to the bathroom in my robe, locking the door behind me. No fucking chance that he was going to walk in on me.

The warm water did wonders for the ache in my muscles, and I took my time to wash my hair and shave my legs. Better late than never I suppose.

After my shower, I applied some body lotion and face cream—something I honestly should do every day but I just can't be fucked—and pulled on some shorts and a big t-shirt, twirling my hair into a quick bun.

Feeling like a brand new woman, I spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking.

By the time I had everything sorted out and my suitcases were put away, I walked down the stairs, hearing voices. Curiosity took over, and I froze at the bottom, hiding around the corner.

"That's Bellamy?" I heard Noah ask, and I rolled my eyes.

"Please be nice, dude. She's got some shit going on," my brother answered, and the corners of my mouth curled up in a small smile. The age difference didn't matter; we had each other's back.

"I don't see how that's my problem. She's only been here a few hours and—"

My smile disappeared.

"What the fuck, man? It's my sister."

That shut Noah up, and I lifted my chin a little before I walked into the kitchen, making myself known.

Ignoring Noah's death stare, I walked up to Isaac, giving him a hug. "Thanks for letting me stay here."

He gave me a kiss on my cheek and smiled, looking up when the doorbell rang.

"And who the fuck is that?" Noah snapped from behind the stove, making me shift my eyes over to him. He's got some serious issues that's for sure. Then again, who doesn't?