Page 13 of Rush the Edge

The tension rises, and my pulse quickens. Neither one of us are willing to back down, a challenge brewing between us, but as soon as my brother slides back into the booth, we’re forced to break apart.

And just like that, things are back to beingnormal.

One decline of a stripper offering my brother a lap dance later—thank god—and I’m scooting out of the booth to head back to the apartment.

Kane paid for the meal, and I wanted to refuse in the worst way because now I feel like I should thank him. But to be honest, I’d rather chew my own arm off than show him gratitude after dragging me to a strip club for dinner.

When we get back to the apartment, I opt for the stairs because I can’t stand to spend another second keeping my composure intact with Kane near. River looks at me questionably, and I quickly make up some excuse about needing to stretch my legs.

“But we just walked to and from the restaurant,” he says.

Restaurant?

He meansstrip club.

I pretend to be deaf and hustle to the stairwell. The door slams and echoes throughout the empty space, which gives me full permission to finally breathe for the first time all evening.

My shoulders drop when I look up.

I’m going to die trying to climb these stairs, but hey, at least I won’t have to deal with Kane and his feigned smiles that turn into scathing glares when my brother isn’t looking.

One step down, a million more to go?—

I freeze with the creaking of the door.

It opens slowly, like I’m in some horror movie.

“Running away, are we?” Kane muses.

I take that back. Iamin a horror movie.

With a slow spin, I lock onto him standing halfway in the doorway with a cocky grin on his face.

“Why would I do that?” I ask.

I mentally prepare myself for a rude remark, especially since River is nowhere in sight, but instead, he rolls his eyes impatiently. “Do you still know how to ice skate?”

Confusion fills me. “Yeah…why?”

Kane’s face twitches with humor, and then the door begins to creep shut as he backs away.

“Wait! Why?” I blurt, making him pause.

The only answer I get from him is a devious smile and a quick wink.

Which doesnotsit well with me.

* * *

The only thing that pulls me out of bed is the thought of a matcha latte with my name on it. I switched from coffee to matcha a year ago because of its health benefits. I’m not sure it has really helped, but now I’m obsessed with matcha, so there’s that.

After swirling a design into the cup with my oat milk, I head over to my plants.

The morning sun peeks between the two skyscrapers across the busy street, sending a stream of warmth directly onto my jade plant. With my finger, I rub the smooth leaf and smile with my mug pressed against my lips.

So far, Chicago isn’tterrible. I have floor-to-ceiling windows, and although I thought I’d hate the city scenery, it’s kind of pretty. The apartment is spacious, leaving plenty of room for me to move my plants around when needed, and with River being at the hospital so often, I hardly remember that we’re roommates. Of course, there’s the apartment above me that causes my anxiety to rise with its occupant, but I’ve done an excellent job at avoiding Kane.

I move over to my hibiscus plant and slip my finger into the soil, testing the moisture level. As soon as I pull my hand away, there’s a knock on my door that startles me so much I spill my latte.

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