Page 56 of Heartless Stepbrother
My wet hair clung to my shoulders. My feet slapped quietly against the stones.
I ducked behind a tall hedge when a couple walked past, laughing softly, arms linked. I held my breath until their voices faded, my heart pounding so violently I worried it would give me away.
For one terrifying second, I imagined Riley following me.
Not loudly.
Not taunting.
Just… appearing.
Silent.
Amused.
Waiting to watch me unravel all over again.
I almost heard his voice, low in my ear: Running away already, Luna?
I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, just to ground myself.
My room was farther than I remembered. The walk felt endless, every step a frantic countdown. I kept seeing flashes of the pool, the moment my chest collided with his, the impossibly warm drag of his skin against mine. The way the water had trapped me against him. The quiet hunger in his eyes when he thought I couldn’t see it.
A shiver tore through me.
I hated him.
And worse, I hated the part of me that hadn’t pulled away fast enough.
I fumbled with the key the second I reached my door, hurrying, shaking, practically falling into the room the second the lock clicked open.
I slammed it shut, not loudly, but firmly, and pressed my back against it, breathing hard, chest heaving, dripping water onto the polished hardwood floor.
Only then did the shame finally hit me full force.
My bikini top was still in his hands.
Against his skin.
Carried with him.
Claimed.
A scorching, humiliated heat crawled up my throat and into my cheeks.
I wrapped my arms around myself, sinking down onto the floor, drawing my knees to my chest, trying to quiet the riot inside me.
I wasn’t just mortified.
I was shaken.
Shaken by him.
By myself.
By the fact that, for a moment in that water, I had forgotten to be afraid.
And that terrified me more than anything Riley could ever do.
