Page 16 of Heartless Stepbrother
My cheeks burned like fire. “I wasnot—“ I snapped, then caught myself. Took a breath. “I didn’t even see you. I was just walking. I wasn’t… I didn’t know—”
“Sure,” he said, dragging the word out, the smirk on his face deepening. “Funny thing, people who don’t want to see something usually look away.” He smiled, slow and sharp. “You didn’t.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but his gaze dipped lower, lazily sweeping me up like I was something to betasted, not spoken to. My skin crawled, prickling with the electric sting of it.
And then his eyes landed on my lips.
Stayed there.
Just long enough to make me forget how to breathe.
“Careful,” he said softly. Almost thoughtfully. “Curiosity’s addictive. First you watch. Then you wonder what it feels like.”
There was heat in his voice. Flirty, yes. But it was tainted. Twisted.
And I realized then, he wasn’t flirting with me.
He wasstudyingme.
Testing me.
Seeing how far he could go before I broke.
I lifted my chin. “You’re disgusting,” I whispered.
His smirk didn’t falter.
“If I am,” he said softly, each word a sin, “why are you still standing there, staring at me like you wish it was you instead of her?”
Because I couldn’t move.
Because I was caught.
Because some part of me wanted exactly what he promised.
“I just wanted quiet,” I said, my voice low and brittle with a mix of lingering shame and a rising tide of anger I didn’t quite understand.
I looked at him. Really looked.
“And clearly, this isn’t it.”
He laughed.
A short, sharp bark of sound that didn’t match the lazy lines of his body. It sliced through the hush of the beach like a knife through silk, too loud in the night air, too confident.
“Quiet?” he echoed, dragging the word out like it tasted good on his tongue. “On Kaua’i?” He shook his head, dark hair falling across his forehead, wild and beautiful. “This islandhumswith activity. Especially after dark.”
His eyes slanted toward the girl beside him. She was fully dressed now, arms wrapped tight around herself, her expression carved from awkwardness and retreat. She looked like she wanted to disappear into the sand. I didn’t blame her.
“Isn’t that right, Anna?”
The girl mumbled something that didn’t quite reach me. Her voice was thin, her body language shrinking.
But he wasn’t looking at her anymore.
His gaze turned back to me, and something in it sharpened. A narrowing. A shift.
“So,” he said, eyes dragging over me like a slow burn. “What’s your story, little Aussie? Lose your way from the land of kangaroos and polite smiles?”
