Page 76 of Masked Sins
“Oh? What’s her favorite fandom?” I ask, knowing his answer will hurt me if it’s the same as mine.
He shrugs. “I think she reads it all. She mentioned aTwilightstory the other day.”
My chest aches, and my eyes feel prickly.Whyam I having this reaction? Orion is free to date whoever he wants. He’s not beholden to me just because we shared a drunken kiss a few months ago and a “moment” the other night.
“What’s she like?” I ask, hurt lancing through me like I’ve been shot by an arrow.
Orion looks over at me, studying my face intently. “Beautiful. Smart. Accomplished.”
Ouch, ouch, triple ouch.
“I’m really happy for you,” I squeak out.
“Are you seeing anyone?” he asks casually.
I open and close my mouth. Am I? It suddenly occurs to me that I could tell him a little about Starboy. The idea of making him jealous appeals to me, especially since my stomach is still roiling with how he described the person he’s seeing and how affectionately he spoke of her.
“Sort of,” I admit. “It’s new. We met online,” I say slowly, watching Orion for his reaction as I distractedly play with the bracelet Starboy gave me.
However, instead of jealousy and anger, his face softens. “I’m happy for you, sis.”
His words crash through me, and I feel sick.Sis?He’s never called me that—not once. But he is my stepbrother. That line was drawn in the sand the second his mother married my father. Still, it doesn’t sit right.
I don’t like it at all, but I don’t have a valid reason. Between that and the comment about the woman he’s seeing, I feel petulant.
Like I want to argue.
Like I want to throw him off his game, too.
“Sis?” I ask, arching a brow. “That’s a new one.”
He smiles, but it’s warm and friendly. It freaks me out because a month ago, he would’ve brooded all day at finding out I was seeing someone. I mean, this is the same man who berated my date to within an inch of his life a few weeks ago.
But he doesn’t seem to care about this new development of mine—and calling mesis?
What the hell is going on?
I attempt to distract myself with a stalker romance, but I see him pull his phone out every few minutes. After the third time, I can’t help but ask the question I’ve been dying to know.
“Talking to her?” I ask, my voice just a tad too snippy.
He smirks before turning to face me. “If I’m not mistaken, you sound a little jealous,sis,” he says, his voice low and almost sultry.
My mouth pops open. “I could never be jealous of you,” I nearly whisper-hiss. “I’m just… curious. I don’t think you’ve ever talked about dating anyone since I’ve known you.”
“That you know about,” he adds.
I dip my chin. “Touché.” Drumming my fingers along the front of my Kindle, I practically word-vomit the next question. “What’s her name?”
Orion smiles, and I fight against the knot of envy lodged in my chest. “Why? Are you worried you know her?”
I shake my head. “No. I mean, I doubt I do. If she’s… you know,” I add, whispering so that the people standing right in front of us don’t overhear our conversation.
“A submissive?”
My cheeks burn. “Yeah.”
“She’s not. Not yet, anyway. But she’s willing to learn. I think she’s a natural,” he adds, leaning an inch closer to me. The tobacco smell gets stronger as he gets closer. “You’d be surprised how many people naturally want to submit. To give over that control.” He leans another inch closer. “No thinking. No deciding, except whether you want more of whatever your Dom is giving you. Some people find it to be a reprieve from daily life.”
