Who

The knocking rattled the bathroom door again, sharper this time.

KNOCK KNOCK

"Sam?" A voice, deep, rough, cut through the steam. "You good in there?"

Danny’s fingers froze between her thighs, her breath hitching in her throat. The water still pounded down, scalding, but suddenly she was hyper-aware of every sound,the creak of the door handle testing the lock, the shuffle outside.

Her pulse hammered against her ribs, loud enough she swore he could hear it. Fuck.

Danny’s fingers jerked away from herself, water sluicing down her trembling thighs. The shower’s roar muffled her ragged breathing, but not enough,not nearly enough. The doorknob rattled again, more insistent this time.

"Danny?" Her stepbrother’s voice was closer now, edged with something between concern and suspicion. "You ok, I thought I heard..." A pause. "moaning?"

Danny’s throat tightened. “I, I’m just getting out!” she shouted, voice cracking under the weight of the lie. The words echoed too loud against the tiles, bouncing back at her like an accusation.

Her fingers fumbled for the tap, twisting it shut with a violent jerk. The sudden silence was worse,now every ragged breath, every drip of water from her borrowed skin, felt exposed. The steam clung to her, thick and suffocating, as she grabbed her towel and pressed it against her flushed face.

The doorknob turned with a slow, deliberate creak, Danny’s stomach dropped.

“Lock’s busted,” her stepbrother muttered, more to himself than to her, and then the door swung open.

Steam billowed out in thick, guilty waves, curling around his broad frame as he stepped inside. Danny didn’t move, couldn’t move, the towel clutched uselessly against her chest but doing nothing to hide the water-slicked curve of Sam’s hips, the flush still burning down her throat.

His gaze dragged over her, "Goddamn!" The words came out low, rough, like gravel dragged over skin. Danny could see the way his throat worked, the way his fingers flexed at his sides before shoving into his pockets, like he was stopping himself from reaching out.

"You, uh…" He cleared his throat, shifting his weight. "You sounded like you were hurt or something." The lie was flimsy, and they both knew it. His lips quirked, just barely.

Danny shoved past him, her bare feet slapping against the cold tile as she bolted from the bathroom. The towel slipped, barely clinging to Sam’s damp curves as she sprinted down the hallway, her pulse roaring in her ears.

The door to Danny’s bedroom loomed ahead, and she crashed into it, fumbling with the knob before finally wrenching it open.

She slammed it shut behind her, back pressed against the wood as her chest heaved. The lock clicked, but it felt flimsy, useless. She couldn't believe she was in this situation. She needed no distractions, she had to find Sam.

-----

Meanwhile, across town, Sam arched against Aaron’s grip, her back pressed into the sweat-slick mattress, as once again Aaron fucked her for dear life, both blissfully unaware of who Sam really was.