Chapter 19 : 🌶️ Shivers of Shame
(Narrator : Jessica)
Next week is coming way too fast. Every time I think about it, a wave of stress crashes over me. Hosting everyone here… in our place. As if this charade wasn’t already complicated enough. Now we’ll have to open our door to them, let them into our space, and worse… pretend to be a couple in our own home.
The questions won’t stop swirling in my head, becoming more intrusive, more uncomfortable with each passing day. Will we have to pretend to sleep in the same room? Or can we avoid that part somehow? What if Harper or Brice start snooping? What if someone accidentally walks into my room and notices that nothing looks “shared”? And the worst—will they expect us to kiss in front of them? No… that would be too much. But can we really avoid it?
I don’t even want to answer these questions, not even in my own mind. Every time I start working toward a solution, a deep sense of discomfort stops me in my tracks. What if this whole thing goes sideways?
And as if all of this wasn’t unbearable enough, there’s Josh. I don’t understand what’s happening to me when it comes to him. Ever since that dream… no, don’t think about it. But I can’t erase those images, or the unease that creeps in every time I see him. And tonight… tonight, he’s inviting a girl over.
I know exactly how it’s going to play out. Josh doesn’t need to say anything; it’s written all over his face every time he mentions this “friend.” They’re not just going to have dinner. She’s going to stay. Maybe even spend the night. In his room. And just the thought of it sparks an irritation in me that I can’t explain. Why does it bother me so much?
I shouldn’t care. It’s his right, isn’t it?
But a part of me refuses to accept the idea of him… enjoying himself with someone else, while I’m stuck here drowning in this absurd fake relationship.
Every time I picture that girl, a dull tension rises inside me. She’s going to touch him, laugh with him, kiss him… make him hers. Just the thought of it twists my stomach into knots. Why does this bother me so much? It’s not normal. It’s not like it’s any of my business. And yet, this jealousy—burning, insidious—refuses to let me go. But it’s not because of him. It’s not about Josh. It’s… it’s the situation, that’s all.
It’s because he gets to enjoy himself, that’s it. I’m here, stuck in this ridiculous mess, unable to think about anything else, and he’s out there living his life. That’s all it is. It’s because he can relax while I’m drowning in this lie.
I cling desperately to that idea. It’s not him. It’s not her. It’s the situation. But even that excuse feels hollow. Some part of me knows it’s not entirely true, a part I’d rather keep buried. It’s not just about who’s taking it easy or not. It’s about her. That girl. She’s going to share something with him that I don’t want her to have.
I clench my fists, frustrated with my own thoughts.
But there’s nothing I can do about it. I promised him I’d leave the apartment tonight. So I get ready quickly, grab my things, and before leaving, I send him a quick message:
- Jessica (text): “The apartment’s yours tonight. I’ll be back late.”
No reply. He’s probably busy or on his way back. Good. I’d rather leave before I run into him. I don’t want to make small talk or feel even more ridiculous with these thoughts spinning endlessly in my head.
I close the door behind me, leaving behind a night I’d rather not imagine.
When I park in front of Thomas’s house—an old friend from university—a mix of relief and hesitation washes over me. It’s been almost a year since I last saw this group. Normally, I probably would have turned down the invitation. But tonight… tonight I needed to get out, to be somewhere else. Leaving the apartment to Josh and his… date was also the perfect excuse to escape the heavy atmosphere that’s been suffocating me.
I push open the door and am immediately greeted by a wave of warmth, laughter, and music. Everyone seems so carefree. I force a smile, trying to reconnect with that lighter version of myself, the one I’ve almost forgotten. Tonight, I can just be me. No lies. No pretending. Just the thought alone makes it a little easier to breathe.
As I step inside, the noise hits me all at once. Laughter, music that’s just a bit too loud, voices overlapping… The whole vibe takes me back to those university parties, that chaotic yet joyful mix of energy and recklessness.
Thomas, as exuberant as ever, greets me with a wide grin, a glass of wine in hand.
- Thomas (laughing): “Jessica! It’s been forever! What, did you decide to go into exile or something?”
I laugh, even though the weight of the past few months keeps me from fully letting go.
- Jessica (smiling): “You’re the one who always throws parties when I’m drowning in work. But this time, I couldn’t miss it.”
Soon enough, I’m swept up in the conversations. Everyone’s asking about my life, my job, my plans. It feels good to be surrounded by familiar faces, even though some seem more inquisitive than others.
- Marie (crossing her arms, mock-serious): “Alright, spill the tea. Got anything juicy to tell us? Still single, huh?”
I roll my eyes with a laugh, even though that question makes my chest tighten slightly.
- Jessica (teasing): “And you? Still sticking your nose in everyone else’s business?”
Everyone laughs, and the atmosphere becomes even more relaxed. The jokes start flying, and I let myself get swept up in the lightness of it all.
- Thomas (jumping in): “Jess, do you remember that night you totally destroyed us at beer pong? Come on, admit it—you were cheating!”
I shake my head, amused.
- Jessica: “That wasn’t cheating, it was pure skill. Maybe you’ll learn someday, if you’re lucky.”
Every now and then, a few guys come up to chat, just like they used to. One of them, Ethan—I vaguely remember him from a party years ago—approaches me with a grin.
- Ethan (teasing): “Jessica, still as radiant as ever. Honestly, it’s great to see you here. So, shall we toast to your reunion with us?”
I smile, flattered, but shake my head gently.
- Jessica: “Thanks, but I’m driving tonight. Not about to end up in a ditch somewhere.”
He laughs, pretending to look offended.
- Ethan: “You break my heart, but I respect that.”
These little interactions, as simple as they are, do me good. I don’t want to take them any further, but they remind me that I can still draw attention, that I’m not just this woman trapped in an impossible lie.
The night goes on, filled with conversations and jokes, and I find myself laughing sincerely more than once. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this light. No lies, no heavy glances, just me—Jessica—surrounded by people who want nothing more than to have a good time.
I lean against the wall, watching the room. Marie is dancing in an overly dramatic fashion while Thomas tries, and fails, to mimic her moves. Others are scattered in small groups, chatting, sharing memories and future plans. Everyone looks so carefree.
I glance at my phone. It’s almost 1 a.m. The fatigue is starting to set in, along with a quiet sense of weariness. It’s been a great night, but it’s enough for one evening. I say my goodbyes, vaguely promising to come back soon, though I know it’s unlikely.
As I gently push open the door to the apartment, I’m greeted by an almost complete silence. For a moment, I wonder if Josh is already asleep, if his infamous “guest” has left. But my eyes immediately land on a pair of sleek black heels by the entrance. My stomach tightens.
She’s still here.
I close the door as quietly as possible, trying not to make a sound. Why? I have no idea. Part of me wants to stomp my way to my room, make it obvious that I’m here, remind everyone that this is my home too. But instead, my movements are slow, deliberate, almost stealthy.
Why do I feel guilty?
I take a hesitant step into the apartment, my body unsure of itself. That’s when I hear it.
Soft whispers. Quiet bursts of laughter, coming from Josh’s room. My heart skips a beat. They’re not asleep.
The muffled laughter carries through the apartment, a cruel reminder of what’s happening behind that closed door. I freeze, unable to move, as if my legs have decided to betray me. My mind is spinning. Why does this affect me so much? Why do I feel this overwhelming urge to run—to leave this apartment, to get away from all of it?
After what feels like an eternity, I manage to force myself forward. Each step is careful, avoiding the spots where the floor might creak. I make my way to my room, my thoughts a tangled mess. Don’t make a sound. They can’t know you’re here.
Why? Why do I do everything I can to stay invisible?
I walk past Josh’s door. The whispers grow louder. She’s laughing again, a soft, intimate kind of laugh that feels like a punch to the gut. I can’t explain it, but the thought of it leaves me deeply unsettled.
Once in my room, I close the door behind me, making sure it doesn’t slam. I quickly strip out of my dress, trading it for an old T-shirt and a pair of shorts. Every move I make is measured, careful, as though even the faintest sound might shatter something unseen yet unbearably fragile. I slide under the sheets, hoping the comfort of the bed might dull this suffocating unease. But nothing gets better.
Her laugh still echoes in my head. I can hear her whispering something, and Josh murmurs back in response. I can’t make out the words, but their tone is enough to make me wince. They’re close. Too close.
I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling, my pulse hammering wildly in my chest. Why does this bother me so much? I try desperately to rationalize, to come up with some logical reason for the storm of discomfort swirling inside me. It’s just the situation, not them. But the more I repeat it, the less it feels like the truth.
It’s her. Her and Josh. That laugh, that connection… That girl I don’t even know but already hate for no real reason. But why does it mess me up like this? I refuse to admit it could be anything more than that.
So I convince myself it’s just the fact that it’s Josh—my brother—in this situation. It’s awkward, that’s all. Anyone would feel weird hearing their brother with some girl in the next room.
But even that excuse doesn’t quiet the uncomfortable heat crawling through me. I clutch the sheets tightly against my body, as if they could shield me from these thoughts that are becoming harder and harder to ignore. The whispers from the other room feel like needles in my ears, every sound amplified by the oppressive silence of the night.
Part of me wants to march over and bang on their door, remind them I’m here, that we share this space. They don’t have the right to act like I don’t exist. But another part of me—a much stronger part—orders me to stay frozen, to hide in the shadows, to pretend I’m not here. Because if I step in… it would only make things worse. So I stay put, motionless, praying for the night to end, for this unbearable tension to fade with the dawn.
I’m just about to drift off to sleep when it starts. At first, it’s a muffled moan, barely audible. My body freezes instantly. I strain to hear, hoping I misheard, but then a second moan cuts through the silence of the night, louder this time. No… no, this can’t be happening…
The thin apartment walls amplify every sound. Her voice pierces the room like a sharp blow.
“Oh… Josh… Yes, like that… don’t stop.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, scalding and immediate. I want to convince myself they’ll stop, that it’s just a fleeting moment, but the rhythm of their movements intensifies, raw and unmistakable. Her moans grow louder, dripping with shameless pleasure, every word slicing through the air with almost cruel clarity.
And then he speaks. His voice. Low, commanding, laced with a dominance that sends a shiver down my spine.
“You’re begging already, aren’t you? I can hear it… You little slut.”
She gasps, struggling to respond, but he doesn’t let up, relentless:
“Say it. Tell me what you want. Beg for it, fuck.”
“Yes… Yes, Josh, I want it all… I want you, I want your—”
Her voice breaks under the weight of it, ragged and breathless, but she recovers, desperate:
“Take me however you want!”
I curl up desperately under my sheets, as if that pathetic gesture could shield me from the words that echo through the walls with an almost sadistic persistence. The sounds of their bodies colliding in a relentless rhythm hammer into my mind, each smack landing like a slap across my face.
“You’ve never had it like this before, have you? Say it,” he growls, his voice rough and intentionally filthy.
“No cock’s ever made you scream like this.”
“No… never… fuck, Josh, it’s so good! Don’t stop! Never stop!”
Her cries grow louder, hysterical, her pleasure spilling out of her in uncontrollable waves. My stomach churns violently. I clutch the sheets tighter, as if they could muffle the sounds, but their voices find me anyway, piercing through with an unnerving clarity.
“Look at me. Look at how I’m crushing you, how I’m opening you up… You love it, don’t you? Say it, fucking say it!”
“Yes! Yes, I fucking love it! Shit, don’t stop, Josh!”
Josh’s tone grows sharper, more commanding, brimming with raw intensity. A loud, sharp smack echoes suddenly, followed by a strangled cry.
“Arch your ass. That’s it. Yeah… Take it, you little bitch.”
“Josh! Yes! More! I’m begging you!”
The words, the sounds, it’s all too much. My breath comes in short, shallow gasps, my hands trembling as I try to block it all out. But I can’t escape it; their voices invade every corner of my mind, unstoppable.
Why didn’t they lower their voices? Why didn’t they stop to think that I might be here, that I might hear everything? They don’t care. Josh doesn’t care at all. And that’s what sickens me the most.
I want to cover my ears, to escape this obscene chaos, but I’m frozen in place. Against my will, images start flooding my mind. Josh, in control, his body pinning her to the bed, his hands gripping her hips with a bruising intensity, his movements brutal, relentless. His rough, deliberately provocative voice echoes in my head:
“You really want it all, don’t you? Then ask for it. Say it loud and clear.”
“Josh… fuck my ass…”
Her voice cracks into a strangled cry. Then, in a barely audible whisper, trembling with raw, uncontrollable need, she breathes:
“Take me from behind. I want you there.”
I feel my heart stop for just a fraction of a second. The silence that follows stretches endlessly, suffocating, before Josh’s voice cuts through the walls, cold and razor-sharp.
“You want this? You sure you can handle it? Because I’m not going to go easy on you.”
“Yes… do it, please, fuck my ass, Josh!”
The bed creaks loudly, followed by a dull, heavy thud—a brutal thrust of his hips—and then muffled gasps. I can’t stop my mind from filling in the details: his fingers yanking her hair back harshly, his movements becoming deeper, harder, more unforgiving.
The sounds grow louder, more relentless, forming a steady rhythm punctuated by hysterical moans and guttural cries. And with every sharp smack, my thoughts spiral further. Josh’s filthy words slam into me, raw and unfiltered, like a punch to the gut:
“Take it. That’s it, open up for me… your fucking ass…”
I want to scream, to turn away from these images, but an insidious heat rises within me—troubling, uncontrollable. My thighs press together instinctively, but the pressure only makes the sensation worse. My breath quickens against my will. And when I glance down, I realize my hand has slipped beneath the sheets, grazing my skin. Panic sets in.
No, no, no… this can’t be happening. Not this.
But my fingers continue, almost mechanically, tracing, exploring. Shame crashes over me in waves, heavy and relentless, but I can’t stop. The sounds from the other room grow even more intense, almost animalistic. Every movement, every cry pours fuel onto the fire I can no longer suppress.
“You love it, don’t you? When I fuck you like this? Look at me! I want to see your face when you scream for me.”
“Yes, Josh! More! Harder!”
Their cries reach a fever pitch, raw and unrestrained, and my own body—despite the battle raging in my mind—responds to their intensity. I feel a humiliating wetness spreading between my thighs, and my fingers, already in motion, only amplify the sensation.
Stop, Jess… Stop right now. This is Josh, for fuck’s sake—your brother.
But instead of snapping me out of it, that thought only drags me deeper into an even more twisted spiral. My mind drowns in a toxic swirl of shame and desire, powerless against the relentless sounds that are pushing me to the edge.
The noises don’t stop, unrelenting, their intensity almost inhuman. And here I am, trapped in my own body, unable to do anything but silently endure what I’m feeling, alone in the darkness.
“I’m gonna come… Josh… don’t stop!” the girl screams, her voice ripping through the air, raw and uncontrollable. The pounding gets louder, the walls vibrating with the sheer force of it, brutal and unbearable. But it’s Josh’s voice—low, commanding, dripping with dominance—that makes my breath catch:
“Scream for me. Let me hear how I’m wrecking you.”
My body tenses, my thoughts blur, as the unrestrained pleasure from the other room seeps into every fiber of me. And then, a scream. Brutal. Deep. A guttural explosion that seems to tear through everything.
“Come in my ass, Josh!”
“Fuck, yes! Take it all, you slut!”
It’s Josh. His voice, that primal roar, hits me like a shockwave. I clutch the sheets tighter, but it’s pointless. Against my will, my fingers keep moving, stroking the heat between my thighs, the slickness betraying everything I’m feeling. A wave builds low in my belly, growing, unstoppable, consuming.
I try to reason with myself. Stop it, Jess, stop! But my body no longer listens. Shame crashes over me in waves, but it’s already too late. Every sound, every movement from the other room pulls me further into this forbidden abyss.
And then Josh lets out one final roar, his cry vibrating with an animalistic intensity, and I tip over the edge. A muffled moan escapes me, buried against my sheets, as a scorching wave crashes through me, uncontrollable, leaving me trembling and undone.
Silence falls abruptly, sharp and cutting. Their labored breathing drifts faintly through the walls. I stay frozen, horrified by what I’ve just done. My heart pounds violently in my chest, my damp, trembling hands still pressed against my skin.
I curl into a ball, clutching the sheets tightly around me, desperate to erase the images, the sounds, the sensations. But nothing fades. Every whisper, every scream is etched deeply into my memory.
My breathing slows, my body growing heavier, drained by the torment. My chaotic thoughts gradually blur as exhaustion takes hold. And in this haze of shame and confusion, I finally drift into a restless sleep.