The white BMW hummed along the 101, Solange's freshly manicured nails tapping against the steering wheel in a rhythm that matched her simmering irritation.
"I still can't believe Dad is actually going through with this. Some stranger is coming to live in our house. It's so fucked up." Solange glanced at Noel in the passenger seat. "Aren't we his daughters? We're the ones who live there. We're the ones who matter."
Noel nodded, watching the hills slide past her window. The shopping bags in the backseat rustled whenever Solange accelerated too hard, which she'd been doing more frequently as the conversation progressed.
"You got that right," Noel said quietly. "And we have to bring one of his mistakes too? Our cheating bastard of a father."
Solange's jaw tightened. "What's his name anyway? Jacob? Jason? Maybe Jake?"
"Judah," Noel supplied. She'd read the paperwork on her father's desk three weeks ago. Information was currency in the Fitzgerald house, and she'd been collecting it since she was old enough to understand what privacy violations could buy.
"Doesn't matter. I don't care what his name is." Solange changed lanes without signaling, cutting off a Tesla. "I just don't want him in our house!"
"When is he supposed to be coming?"
"I think Friday."
Solange's red eyes flicked to her twin. "We need to get Chloe and come up with a plan. I'm not sharing my inheritance with anyone. He's probably some fat perverted otaku anyway."
Noel said nothing. Her phone buzzed in her lap. Another notification from NewTube. Her channel had crossed nine thousand subscribers last night, and the algorithm had apparently decided she deserved its favor. She unlocked the screen and checked SnapGram instead, scrolling through comments on her latest cosplay post.
@darkflame777: best magical girl content on the platform fr fr
@yurikofan2k: those contacts tho where did u get them
@cali_dreamer: calabasas? no way im in calabasas too
Noel's thumb paused on the last comment. She clicked the profile. Male. Seventeen according to his bio. Pictures of basketball courts and sunset shots that screamed amateur photography. Two hundred followers.
Could be anyone.
Could be him.
She closed the app.
The BMW turned onto Prado De La Magia, and Solange's driving smoothed out. This was their neighborhood. Their street. These were the rules they knew how to follow.
The gates stood open when they arrived. Solange pulled into the driveway and parked beside the orange Jeep.
"Chloe's home," Noel observed.
"Good. We can talk to her about the situation before Friday."
They carried their shopping bags inside. The house smelled like vanilla and jasmine. Their mother's scent, lingering in every room no matter how hard Arthur tried to escape it.
"Girls? Is that you?" Evelyn called from the kitchen. "I have something to tell-"
"Yeah, Mom!" Solange's voice shifted registers instantly, irritation smoothing into brightness. "We're just going to put our stuff away!"
Noel slipped her headphones on before her sister could rope her into more conversation about the Judah situation. She'd heard enough strategy for one afternoon. The bass line of some electronica track filled her ears as she climbed the stairs to the children's wing, shopping bags dangling from her wrists.
The second floor landing passed in a blur. Up the smaller staircase to the third floor. Her door on the left, always on the left, three feet from Noel's door which was always closed and always would be.
Wait.
Noel stopped, one hand on her doorknob. The light under the bathroom door at the end of the corridor glowed soft yellow against the hardwood floor.
Had she left it on this morning?
Probably. She'd been distracted, thinking about stream scheduling and whether her latest video would break ten thousand views. The bathroom light was the least important thing in her routine.
Noel pushed into her room and dropped the shopping bags on her bed. The bath bomb she'd bought at that boutique in Malibu rolled free from its tissue paper wrapping. Purple and gold swirls promising lavender and honey. She picked it up, turned it over in her palm.
Shower first. Then the bath bomb. Then maybe an early stream if she felt like it.
Her reflection stared back from the full-length mirror as she stripped off her crop top and jeans. Black bra. Black lace panties. The gap year had been good for her body in ways UCLA would never understand. More sleep. Better diet. Yoga three times a week when she felt like being social.
The music in her headphones shifted to something slower. More sensual. Noel hummed along, swaying slightly as she gathered her towel and robe.
The bathroom was at the end of the hall. Shared full bath between her and Judah's rooms. They each had half baths attached to their bedrooms, but the shower worth using lived in the shared space. Marble tile and rainfall showerhead and enough room to actually breathe.
Noel twisted the handle and pushed.
Steam hit her face like a wall.
She blinked, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. The mirror had fogged completely. Water droplets raced down the glass shower door. Someone had been in here recently.
Very recently.
The fog parted as she moved deeper into the bathroom.
A figure stood at the counter. Male. Tall. Shirtless.
He was putting something in his hair, fingers working through dark wet strands that curled slightly at the ends. Water glistened on skin the color of warm bronze, highlighting the definition of shoulders that belonged on someone who lived in a gym. His back was to her, muscles shifting under skin as he reached for something on the counter.
Noel's brain catalogued details in the half second before he turned around. Broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. The beginning curve of an ass barely covered by a white towel slung dangerously low on his hips. That cross chain around his neck catching bathroom light.
Then he turned.
And Noel's entire vocabulary dissolved into static.
His face registered first. Sharp jaw. Amber eyes going wide with the specific horror of someone realizing they've walked into a disaster. High cheekbones. Full lips parting in what would probably become an apology in approximately two seconds.
But Noel wasn't looking at his face.
Her eyes tracked lower. Collarbones. Chest defined enough that she could see the separation between pectorals. Abs that formed an actual six pack. That line of muscle cutting down from his hips into the towel.
The towel that was slipping.
The towel that wasn't covering nearly enough of what it was supposed to cover.
Because the towel had shifted during his turn, and now Noel could see everything the towel was meant to hide, hanging heavy and soft between his legs.
Bigger than her blue dildo.
Bigger than her purple one.
Bigger than anything she'd seen outside of content she reviewed for research purposes.
And it was soft.
Holy shit it was soft.
Her brain supplied this information with the detached clarity of someone observing a car crash from a safe distance. Except she wasn't at a safe distance. She was three feet away in her bra and panties staring at a stranger's dick in her bathroom while steam curled between them like this was some kind of hentai establishing shot.
His eyes went wider.
Noel's mouth opened.
"AAAAAAHHHHH!"
The scream tore from her throat before conscious thought could stop it. High pitched. Genuinely distressed. The kind of scream that would bring her entire family running.
The guy's hands flew to his towel, grabbing the slipping fabric and yanking it back into place. His face flushed dark under the tan.
"Shit! I'm sorry! I didn't know anyone was—"
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" Noel's hands moved to cover herself, arms crossing over her chest. "WHY ARE YOU IN MY BATHROOM?!"
"I'm Judah! I just got here! Your mom said this was the bathroom and I thought—"
Friday.
Friday was when he was supposed to arrive.
Today was Tuesday.
This was Judah.
The stranger who was supposed to show up in three days was standing in her bathroom right now with water dripping down his chest and his dick barely contained by terrycloth and her brain was still processing the size comparison to her toy collection.
"MOM!" Noel screamed toward the door.
Footsteps thundered up the stairs. Multiple sets. Solange's voice cut through first.
"Noel? What's wrong?!"
The bathroom door burst open.
Solange appeared first, red eyes scanning the scene with the speed of someone trained to assess threats. Then Chloe pushed in behind her, still wearing her volleyball practice shorts and tank top.
Both sisters froze.
Solange's gaze moved from Noel in her underwear to Judah in his towel to the steam still hanging in the air between them.
Chloe blinked once. Twice. Her mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile but definitely wasn't horror.
"Uh," Chloe said. "Hi?"
Judah's hand tightened on his towel. "Hi."
Evelyn's voice drifted up from the second floor landing. "Girls? What happened? Is everyone alright?"
Noel grabbed her towel from where she'd dropped it and wrapped it around herself with shaking hands. Her face burned. Her entire body burned. This was worse than the time her stream had crashed mid-cosplay change and she'd accidentally gone live in her regular clothes.
Way worse.
Because now her sisters had seen her screaming at a half-naked stranger who turned out to be their half-brother who wasn't supposed to be here until Friday and who was apparently carved from stone and blessed by the universe with proportions that violated several laws of reasonable expectation.
Solange found her voice first. Cold. Controlled. The voice she used when someone had made a very serious mistake.
"You're early."
Judah met her stare without flinching. "Apparently."
The silence stretched.
Chloe broke it with a laugh that sounded genuinely delighted.
"This is amazing! This is literally the most anime thing that has ever happened in this house."
===
A/N:
Welcome to the end of the chapter.
You want to watch Jude take the quarterback position. You want to see him conquer the Fitzgerald women.
Feed the algorithm to unlock the next play.
Add this book to your library today to secure your spot on the active roster. Drop those Power Stones to keep the chapters arriving.
Every comment tells me to turn up the heat.
Do not stay on the sidelines. Tell me you are ready to play.