Page 5 of Masked Sins
She huffs out an anguished sound. “This audition waseverythingto me, Ri. You knew that,” she sobs. “And instead of waiting for me like a respectable brother, you arrive drunk and cause a scene?—”
“I’m not your brother,” I murmur, mesmerized by the way the black mascara tracks down her pale skin. Mesmerized by her freckles and delicate nose, her long lashes, her full lips…
I don’t ever want her to think of me as a brother. As I dip my head so our faces are closer, her sharp air intake is all I need to know.
“No, you’re not,” she hisses, baring her teeth. “You’renothing.”
She’s trembling now, making me wonder what she would do if I pressed my lips against hers—if I showed her just hownotbrotherlyI could be. Her eyes dip briefly to my lips, and it’s all the confirmation I need.
She feels it, too.
I thought I was going fucking crazy. We were as close as real siblings, and these feelings didn’t start until about a year ago. But of course, being six years her senior, I shoved them aside.
Her pupils bloom dark, and I scrape my nails against the cinderblock wall behind her to keep from touching her.
“I hate you,” she says, her voice shaking.
“No, you don’t,” I murmur, letting my face dip an inch lower. “But it would be easier if you did.”
“Did you interrupt my audition because you’re drunk or because you don’t want me to go to Paris?”
I let out a soft chuckle. “Both.”
“You need help,” she says through gritted teeth, but I don’t miss the way her eyes flick to my lips so,sobriefly.
“I know,” I say quietly.
The anger slowly leaves her, and the tears that wet her cheeks begin to dry as she sniffles. Looking up at me, she has something in her expression that I can’t place—an exasperating war wages behind her beautiful hazel eyes. Her eyes dance between mine, and the crease in her forehead deepens.
Don’t kiss her. Don’t do it?—
“Do you really want to move to Paris?” I ask her.
“Yes,” she whispers. “I do.”
Guilt heats my cheeks, and I let out a long, slow breath. “You can try again?—”
“No, I can’t. It was my last chance for a callback and getting an invite to the private auditions.” Her voice cracks, and she breaks eye contact to look down.Fuck,I’m an asshole.
“Next year,” I tell her, digging my nails into the wall even harder to keep from brushing a small strand of hair away from her eyes. “Next year, you’ll kill it, Layla.”
Her eyes begin to water, and when she finds my eyes again, I see the expression on her face for exactly what it is—resignation and sadness.
Before I can react, she shoves me backward. I stumble back unsteadily, and then she walks away from me. My hand throbs where I cut it because I’m starting to sober up, but I ignore it.
“Layla,” I call out, jogging after her.
She twists around, andfuck,fresh tears flow down her cheeks. Her hands are clenched at her sides, and her face is scrunched with despair.
“Stay away from me, Orion. I never want to see you again.”
It feels like someone’s stabbing me in the chest—repeatedly—with a serrated knife, pulling my nerves out with each withdrawal. My hand even moves to my chest to make sure I’m notactuallybeing stabbed.
“You don’t mean that,” I tell her, my voice a little bit too loud.
“I do. How can I ever forgive you for this? I should’ve known… all you do is drink and think about yourself. You’re the most selfish person I know. I’ve been working toward this moment my whole life.” Her chest’s heaving. “It was three minutes, Ri,” she whimpers, dejected. “Three minutes to prove something to them. And yeah, maybe they would’ve rejected me, but at least I would’vetried. I’d have given it my all. But you ruined it. Just like you ruin everything.” Her face crumples.
Fuck, the pain is worse now.
