Cade tossed the condom in the bathroom trash and ran the faucet. Cold. Splashing water on his face, he looked at his reflection in the mirror, gritted his teeth, and threw more water on his cheeks.
He gripped the counter and leaned into his hands, forcing his lungs to take air before the black edging his vision had a chance to consume.
Damn Drake and his cryptic s**t. Spouting nonsense about puppy love and...well, crap. That's what this was. A panic attack brought on by his brother. The frantic, erratic beat of his heart and the vise around his throat had nothing to do with Avery and the fantastic, mind-blowing, holy s**t s*x they'd just had.
Sex that didn't feel like s*x at all. Thus his panic. Brought on by his brother.
Or not.
It had never been like that before. s*x was a physical,
