It wasn't Chris' voice that snapped him out of what they were doing. It had been Cassie's reaction. When his brain restarted, it registered that Chris had come home. That they were in the living room. That he'd walked in on something he shouldn't have.
"It's not what it looks like," he blurted out. He chastised himself for saying it the moment the words left his lips. Charles had no idea why he even said it. It was like a knee-jerk reaction.
He pushed off of the couch, scanning the room for his shirt. He took a few steps towards it and picked it up. Charles pulled the shirt over his head as he walked towards Chris. He couldn't shake this guilty feeling that felt like a pit in his stomach.
In eight months he'd never found a spare moment to mention what they were doing to his brother. It wasn't that he was intentionally keeping it from everyone. For one, he didn't want to deal with Caelee possibly hating on Cassie. Two, if he told anyone then he'd have to figure out what the hell it was they were doing.
"Chris…" he trailed off, hoping his brother didn't hate him too much right now.