Page 130 of Heartless Stepbrother
Malia blinked, surprised.
The group near her paused their conversation, subtly watching.
Riley went still.
For a heartbeat, the only sounds were the waves and the pop of the bonfire.
Then his lips curved.
Not in irritation.
Not in disbelief.
But in a slow, dangerous smile that felt like it wrapped around my spine.
“You’re good here,” he repeated, voice low, as if tasting the words.
“Yes.” I lifted my chin. “I’d rather hang out with the girls.”
Malia’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh damn.”
Riley still didn’t look away from me. He didn’t mock. Didn’t challenge. Didn’t try to reclaim the space.
He just studied me with that infuriating, dark amusement that made my stomach twist.
“Be my guest,” he said. “Try not to corrupt them.”
Malia snorted. “Please. We were corrupt before she got here.”
I could’ve kissed her.
Riley’s gaze flicked to her for the first time all night, sharp, assessing, and Malia stared right back like she wasn’t even a little intimidated.
Impressive.
He turned his attention back to me. “Stay where I can see you.”
It wasn’t an order.
It wasn’t protective.
It was a game.
A challenge wrapped in velvet.
I folded my arms. “Why? Afraid I’ll cause trouble?”
He took one step closer, not touching, but close enough that the firelight carved lines along his cheekbones.
“I’m counting on it.”
My breath caught.
His eyes dipped briefly, too briefly, to my mouth. Then he turned and walked away, slipping back into the crowd like he hadn’t just unraveled my nerves with a few syllables.
Malia let out a long, impressed whistle once he was gone. “Oh girl,” she said. “You’re playing with matches.”
I swallowed. “He doesn’t scare me.”
