DEMI
The shower hisses softly over my body, like a white curtain of heat. I rake through my wet hair with trembling hands, struggling to blank my mind from all the thoughts jostling for front row. As the water runs down my spine, one thought pervades the rest; the brief moment earlier today when I ran into one of the Rollins quads outside the Honey Pot where Anna works.
At first, I thought it was Ashton because I have become used to his penchant for finding ways to invade my space. For a fleeting second, my heart had leapt as though it knew him before my mind did. But then the tiny details started to stand out, to poke holes in my memory. Those subtle, relentless clues made it difficult for me to lie to myself.
The hair stood out first. It wasn't the dark, soft curls that make my breath hitch each time it fell over Ashton's forehead when he leaned close. This brother's hair was a pale gold, catching the sunlight like fine threads of fire.
