Page 89 of Masked Sins
I walk back down to the first story, tiptoeing down the main hallway. There’s a closed door, and I can hear Orion speaking to someone on the phone. Must be the office. I keep walking down the hallway, peeking into one of the other guest bathrooms. For an apartment, there are a lot of rooms between the two floors.
And none of them gives me a better picture of my stepbrother.
I look to my right and glance into what I now know is Orion’s bedroom.
My cheeks flame when I think of what I saw earlier—of how he made eye contact with me as he came.
Goose bumps erupt along my skin when I think about it, and I chew on my lower lip as I debate snooping some more.
Making a split-second decision, I go right and walk into his bedroom.
Out of all the rooms, this one smells the most like him. There’s a fancy phone charging station, and next to it are his wallet, keys, and some loose change. There’s also a black-and-silver Hermès watch. I walk over and pick it up, brows furrowed when I realize it’s the same watch his mom had gotten him for his high school graduation years ago. Something catches in my throat when I set it back down.
I miss Felicity every day, but my birthday is always the hardest. I had just turned eighteen when cancer took her, I wish I’d had more than ten years with her. For all intents and purposes, she’s the only mother I’ve ever had because I don’t remember my birth mother. Felicity loved me, and I loved her—but Orion was her pride and joy. They had a special connection—the sort of affinity that almost hurt to look at because it was so pure. When she died, Orion took itsohard.
And then I pushed him away completely.
I take a deep breath and walk over to his closet. The door is open, and I step inside the large walk-in dressing room. As my eyes wander over the leather and black, gray, and white, I’m suddenly nostalgic for what we missed out on over the past seven years. The friendship, the closeness… he waseverythingto me at one point. One day, he was there, and the next, he wasn’t.
I pick up a black hoodie and bring it to my face, inhaling his familiar smell. It’s just like Starboy’s hoodie…
I chuckle to myself at the idea of mixing Starboy and Orion into the same person.
It’s impossible.
My eyes catch on a small turquoise bag sitting atop some folded sweaters. Checking behind me, I confirm that I’m still alone as I pull it from the shelf. My heart hammers inside of mychest. As I glance inside, I gasp as a small leather ring box comes into view. Reaching inside with my free hand, I let the bag drop onto the floor as I pull the box open, already suspecting what it is.
My breathing hitches when I see a classic Tiffany engagement ring. The diamond is massive—this must’ve cost a fortune. And the band is rose gold, something I happen to love in jewelry.
He bought a ring forher—for whoever he’s dating.
Ice spreads through me, turning my food to lead in my stomach. An acute sense of loss rushes through me, as does betrayal.But why?We’re not dating—not even close. He’s allowed to be in love, to envision a life with someone else. My eyes sting as I reach down for the bag and drop the box into it a little too roughly, shoving it back onto a random shelf.
My breathing quickens as I exit Orion’s closet and then his room.
Why do I even care? Why does the misery feel so acute, almost like it’s a physical pain? Swallowing the despair lodged in my throat, I walk into the guest bedroom where my things are and slam my door closed before I begin packing everything up.
Screw this.
I can’t be around him and think of how he’ll plan it. Of how he’s going to be someone’s fiancé soon, and then have a wedding…
God, what is my problem? Why am I so jealous, and why am I having this reaction?
Sparrow meows loudly outside my door, and when I pull it open, Orion is standing there with his arms crossed.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
A raw and primitive grief washes through me, and I can’t understand why. He’sOrion.My stepbrother—someone I’veknown since I was eight. Yet all I can think about is how he belongs to someone else now.
I shrug, feeling resigned as I look down at my bare feet. “Fine. I think I should go and check on my dad, make sure he’s doing okay?—”
“Layla.”
His voice is low, and when I look back up at him, something tortured passes over his expression before his jaw hardens.
“I told you before, you’re welcome to stay here. It’s nearly one hundred ten degrees out right now.”
I clench my teeth as I look down again. My throat aches, and when he takes a step closer, I close my eyes, feeling utterly miserable.
