Page 11 of You Were Always Mine
The dress feels too tight on my skin, the lipstick too loud, the heels too sharp against the tiled floor. Every time I shift in my chair, the hem rides up, and I wonder if people are staring. I wonder ifhe’dstare.
‘Scarlett,’ Tyler says, smiling at me from across the table. He’s harmless — all boyish charm and soft eyes — the kind of guy who probably calls his mum every Sunday. The kind of guy who doesn’t notice the way I keep glancing at the door, or the way my shoulders stiffen every time it swings open.
‘You look… wow.’ He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s embarrassed for noticing. ‘Didn’t know I had to dress up for coffee.’
I force a smile, stir the sugar into my drink even though I don’t take it sweet. ‘Don’t get used to it.’
He chuckles, leaning forward on his elbows. ‘So, what’s new with you?’
New.The word scrapes raw.
What’s new is that my stepbrother pinned me against a door this morning and asked if I was still a virgin. What’s new is that I can still feel his breath on my cheek, still hear his voice in my ear, still see the blue of his eyes burning like I’m something he’s already claimed.
I can’t say that. I won’t.
So I take a sip of my coffee — too hot, burning my tongue — and shrug like nothing inside me is breaking. ‘Same old.’
Tyler talks, easy and warm, but my mind drifts. I picture Kai at the kitchen table, smirking, Ava on his lap, his hand on her thigh. I picture him not caring where I am or who I’m with. I picture himwatchingme, and the thought makes my pulse kick so hard I nearly drop my cup.
I shake my head, laugh like I’m in on some joke, but I can’t shake the feeling. The weight. The certainty.
Kai doesn’t let me walk away without following.
Tyler’s been talking about classes, about some new band he’s found, about anything and everything that fills the silence — and I let him. I nod in the right places, sip my coffee, pretend I’m not restless under my own skin.
Then he leans forward, elbows braced on the table, his smile softer now, more careful. ‘Scarlett… when are you going to let me take you out on a real date?’
The words land heavy, dragging through me like sandpaper.A real date.He says it as if it’ssimple, as if it’s easy. Like I could just agree and everything would slide neatly into place.
Nothing in me is simple anymore. Nothing is easy.
I open my mouth, searching for something light to deflect with, but then his hand lifts, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. His fingers are warm and gentle; his touch so soft it should feel safe. Should feel good.
Instead, it makes my stomach twist — because all I can think about is Kai’s voice in my ear this morning, low and filthy:Are you still a virgin, little sister? Or are you planning on losing it to… your friend?
Tyler smiles, like he didn’t just set fire to every nerve in my body. ‘You deserve more than coffee and small talk, you know. I’d treat you right.’
I force a laugh, thin and brittle. ‘You don’t know what I deserve.’
He blinks, frowning a little, clearly not expecting the edge in my voice. His hand lingers a second too long near my cheek before he pulls it back, brushing it against his jeans.
I grip my cup tighter, stare down into the swirl of coffee like it might have answers — but all I see is the reflection of a girl who can’t stop thinking about the wrong man, even while the right one sits across from her.
Tyler’s still watching me, eyes searching mine like he’s trying to find the right crack to slip through — the one I don’t guard so well. His hand rests on the table, palm open, patient, waiting.
‘Come on,’ he says softly, hopeful. ‘One real date. Dinner, maybe a movie. Just you and me. No pressure. What do you say?’
My chest feels tight, too tight, every breath scraping raw. I should tell him no. I should spare him the mess thatcomes with me — the mess that comes with this house, with the stepbrother whose shadow I can’t outrun.
But instead I hear myself saying, ‘Okay.’
The word tastes bitter, wrong, heavy in my mouth.
Tyler’s whole face lights up, relief breaking over him like sunlight. He grins — wide and genuine — leaning back like he’s just won something worth fighting for. ‘Yeah? You mean it?’
I nod, my lips curving into a smile I don’t feel. ‘Yeah. A real date.’
His grin deepens, and he reaches across the table again, fingers brushing over mine. Warm. Gentle. Harmless.
