Page 123 of Heartless Stepbrother
But he didn’t pull away either.
He stood there with that lazy, arrogant ease that made everyone want his attention, made them compete for it.
And to my absolute horror, something twisted low in my stomach.
Jealousy.
Sharp. Fast. Uninvited.
I swallowed it down instantly.
Absolutely not.
I did not get jealous over Riley Maddox.
But the feeling didn’t care what I thought. It simmered anyway, hot and uncomfortable, crawling beneath my skin like a warning I didn’t know how to ignore.
Riley turned his head slightly, catching the expression I was desperately trying to hide. His eyes flicked to mine, noticing everything, and the corner of his mouth lifted, slow and knowing.
He leaned closer. Not close enough for anyone else to hear. Just close enough for his breath to warm the shell of my ear.
“Careful,” he murmured. “You’re glaring.”
My chest tightened. “I’m not.”
“Sure,” he hummed. “Tell your face that.”
I fought the urge to step back. Or forward. I wasn’t sure which impulse was worse.
Another girl laughed at something Riley’s friend said, her hand brushing his shoulder like she had every right to touch him.
I crossed my arms to hide the way my hands curled into fists.
Riley’s eyes caught the movement.
His smirk deepened.
He dipped his head even closer, his voice a soft, private razorblade.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Not enjoying the view?”
Heat erupted in my cheeks. “Riley—“
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, cutting me off with infuriating ease. “You’re the only one who left the house with me tonight.”
My breath stuttered.
He let the words sink in for a second, warm, dangerous, deliberate, before adding, in a tone that slid straight under my skin.
“Besides…” His gaze dropped to my mouth for the barest second. “You’re much more fun to watch.”
My heart nearly stopped.
Then, just like that, he straightened, tossing a casual greeting to another friend as if he hadn’t just detonated a bomb in my ribcage.
The girls drifted away reluctantly, but Riley didn’t chase after them. He didn’t spare them a second glance.
No. His attention, absurdly, unfairly, impossibly, stayed on me.
