Page 51 of Sinfully Yours

I sigh and roll onto my back, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes.

My mind replays everything in vivid detail—the way his hand cradled my face, the way his body pressed against mine, the way he murmured,This can't just be fake anymore, Ava.

I don't know what to do with that.

I don't know what to do with any of this.

Because Liam Carter is supposed to be an enemy. An annoyance. A complication I tolerate for the sake of convenience.

Not… this.

Not the thing that keeps me up at night, heart pounding, thoughts circling like vultures.

I throw back the covers, my skin prickling with frustration, and drag myself out of bed. The hardwood floor is cool beneath my bare feet as I make my way to the kitchen, the morning sun already creeping through the windows, too bright, too sharp.

I go through the motions—fill the kettle, scoop the coffee, press the buttons. The hum of the machine is steady, grounding, but my thoughts won't stop racing.

Because now, I have a different problem.

Liam kissed me. And I kissed him back.

And I think I'd do it again.

Which means I need to get my head on straight before I do something reckless. Again.

The coffee maker beeps. I grab a mug, take a slow sip, and let the bitterness settle against my tongue.

The coffee helps a bit. Especially since there's brunch to be had and family to be dealt with.

A cold shower and quick change of clothes later, I'm on my way.

By the time I pull up to The Riverwalk Café, I've managed to push Liam to the very back of my mind. Mostly.

The café is exactly the kind of place my brothers love—classic, upscale, the kind of establishment where they never have to check the menu because the waitstaff already knows their usual orders. It's nestled along the waterfront, with ivy climbing up the brick exterior and floor-to-ceiling windows offering a perfect view of the river. Inside, the décor is polished but inviting—warm wood accents, shelves lined with wine bottles, soft jazz playing in the background.

And of course, my brothers are already here, seated at their usual table near the window, looking entirely too at home.

Ryan spots me first, lifting a hand in greeting. Nate grins, and Dean—because he's Dean—just gives me a look that saysyou're late.

I steel myself and stride toward them, sliding into the empty chair across from Ryan.

"You're late," Dean says, because of course he does.

I plaster on my most charming smile. "And yet, here I am. Miracles do happen."

Nate chuckles, leaning back in his chair, but Ryan just narrows his eyes at me. "You look tired."

I resist the urge to groan. I should have expected this. My brothers have a sixth sense when it comes to my life. They can sniff out a secret faster than bloodhounds on a trail.

"Rude," I say, reaching for a menu even though I already know what I'm ordering. "Maybe I was just up late watching movies."

Ryan tilts his head. "Uh-huh. Or maybe you were up late with?—"

But before he can finish that sentence, I see Vanessa Chase.

Sitting at a nearby table, perfectly poised, casually chatting with a man I recognize as one of my brothers' old family friends.

My stomach plummets.

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