Page 4 of You Were Always Mine
She bends down to whisper something in his ear, and he chuckles low, deep in his chest, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to give her that sound. I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste copper, but I stay silent because if I open my mouth now, the wrong words will come out — and I can’t afford for anyone, especially her, to know what’s really twisting in my chest.
So I stand there, swallowing fire, watching Kai smile at someone who isn’t me.
It’s when she leans in closer, her fingers brushing his jaw like she has any right to touch him, that he sees me. His eyes flick up, just for a second, and it’s like being hit square in the chest.
That blue locks on me across the kitchen — sharp and cold and knowing — and for a heartbeat the whole room tilts. His smirk doesn’t falter, not for her, not for the way she’s still trying to get his attention, but I see it: the way his gaze drags down my body before coming back to my face. A silent claim. A warning. A challenge.
Heat crawls up my throat, traitorous, and I force my hands tighter around the mug I’m pretending to need. Ishould look away. I should move, say something, anything — but I can’t. I’m pinned in place like he’s got his hand on me when he doesn’t even have to.
The girl notices after a second, follows his line of sight, and when her eyes land on me, her smile falters. She straightens a little, tugging her dress down as if she suddenly remembers she’s not supposed to be here.
Kai finally leans back in his chair, stretching like a cat — all muscle and arrogance — and says easily, ‘Morning, Scarlett.’
My name in his mouth makes my stomach twist, makes the air catch hard in my lungs, makes me want to run and stay all at once.
‘Morning,’ I manage, the word clipped, too thin.
His grin curves wider, just enough to let me know he heard it in my voice — the tightness, the strain. He says nothing else, doesn’t explain the girl, doesn’t offer a single piece of kindness to make this easier. He just watches me over the rim of his mug, slow, deliberate, like he’s got all the time in the world to peel me open without laying a finger on me.
I hate him for it.
I hate how beautiful he is.
I hate how much it hurts that he’s looking at me while someone else is still sitting on the counter in our kitchen.
I hate how badly I want him to keep looking.
She doesn’t leave.
The blonde shifts on the counter as if she belongs there, as if no one caught her in someone else’s house at eight in the morning, her bare legs swinging lazily while she takes Kai’s mug from his hand without asking. She takes a sip, makes a little face at how bitter it is, and sets it back down, leaving a smear of red lipstick on the rim.
I don’t know why that tiny mark makes my stomach twist so violently, but it does. A stain. A brand. Proof that she had his mouth close enough to touch.
Kai doesn’t stop her. He just chuckles, low, like she’s amusing, and says, ‘That’s mine.’
She grins back at him, lips curling slowly. ‘Not anymore.’
Their eyes meet, heat simmering between them, and I swear I feel my pulse in my teeth. My nails dig into the ceramic of my own mug until I’m scared it’ll crack, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying something reckless.
I shouldn’t care. I can’t care. He’s not mine. He can flirt with whoever he wants, bring home whoever follows him from whatever bar he haunts — but the sound of her laugh, the way his smile curves, the little tilt of his head when she touches him again — it all crawls under my skin like fire ants, burning until there’s nothing left but anger and want tangled together in a knot I can’t untie.
Finally, like he’s bored, Kai turns back towards me. His smirk lingers, but his eyes are darker now, colder, and when he speaks, it’s deliberate, slow.
‘Scarlett, this is Ava,’ he says, his voice like a blade slicing through the air. ‘We met last night.’
Ava. The name tastes sour just hearing it. She waves half-heartedly, clearly more interested in him than me, and says, ‘Hey.’
I nod, stiff, my throat too tight for words.
Kai takes his mug back from her, lifts it, and holds my gaze over the rim as he drinks from the exact spot she left her lipstick. He doesn’t break eye contact. He doesn’t even blink.
I know — he’s doing itfor me.
Ava doesn’t take the hint — if there even was one. She swings her legs, her dress sliding higher, and leans towards Kai with a grin that says she’s not used to being ignored.
‘So,’ she says, voice sweet like candy left too long in the sun, ‘is this where you hide out? Big house, quiet town, sister in the kitchen…’
Her words hit me like a slap, but Kai only laughs under his breath. ‘Something like that.’
