Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 123575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
“Better?” he asks, his voice softening as we move toward the darkened corner of the terrace and away from other guests seeking respite from the party.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
Is this where we talk about that night? When he tells me yet again how much I repulse him? I squeeze my eyes closed and shove away the memory. Do I even want to talk about it? He hasn’t brought it up yet. War wages inside my mind. I’m caught between desire and heartache. Desire for the man I’ve wanted forever, and inevitable heartache when he discards me for good.
“You can’t just disappear and then come back and act like nothing happened,” I say and tug his jacket a little tighter around me.
It smells like him—but with subtle differences.
Sharper. More raw.
His smile is predatory. “I didn’t disappear. I had a sudden change of plans.”
“I think our parents would disagree with that.”
He shrugs. “They act like they care, but we both know they don’t. They want control.”
“Maybe they don’t care about you, but I do,” I confess, watching his reaction carefully. “I haven’t heard from you or seen you in months.” It is difficult to hide the hurt in my voice, impossible when it feels like a fresh wound every time I think about him.
“You care about me, Lilian?” His voice is low, sensual, and I’m mesmerized by his fingers as they trace my collarbone.
The words stutter out of me. “You know I do. I care more than I should, more than you deserve after breaking my heart like you did.”
His brows pinch together in confusion before twisting into predatory interest. “Would you believe me if I said I changed my mind?” His intensity ratchets up as he moves closer, backing me against the stone balustrade. I’m overwhelmed by his proximity, his scent, his full lips begging to be kissed.
Is this real or a figment of my imagination?
It doesn’t feel real, but I want it to be. Is it really so strange to believe he might have changed his mind? That he might be ready to admit he wants me?
His warm breath fans against my cheek, and my heart slams against my rib cage. For half a second, I think he might kiss me, and I want him to so badly that I barely stop myself from reaching for him. All I get is disappointment when his lips curve into a smile, and he remains where he is standing. “Would you?” he whispers against my lips. “Believe me?”
“I don’t know.” I can’t stop looking at his lips. I look away and back up into his eyes. I want him to kiss me, to rip me open and hold all my broken pieces in his hands.
“What would make you believe me?”
My entire life has been defined by caution, by calculated risks and careful management of my condition. I don’t want to play my part anymore. I don’t want to be the good girl who follows the rules. The girl with the broken heart. This thing between Aries and me demands resolution, regardless of the consequences.
I hold my breath until my lungs start to burn. We’re balanced on a knife’s edge, and one of us is about to bleed.
“I don’t know. I’m confused. Everything about you confuses me,” I whisper. “You hurt me and made me believe you didn’t care. Made me believe that what I wanted, what we both want, is disgusting simply because you’re my stepbrother.” Something eerily similar to shock flashes in his eyes, but I continue to speak, needing to get the words off my chest. “Changing your mind isn’t a good enough reason for me to allow you back into my life. You broke my heart, Aries.”
“What can I say, I’m a stupid asshole.”
All I can do is roll my eyes. “It’s more than that. I understand that you might be afraid of our parents, but I’m not. When I kissed you for the first time, I felt it. I felt you kiss me back. I felt your desire. I tasted it. And then in the pool house...” I trail off, my cheeks heating.
“Which is why I changed my mind. I realized how much I fucked up.”
This is what I’ve longed to hear. The response I’ve savored, dreamed of, and wished for, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like Aries.
“And what happens when you change your mind again? When you decide that being with me is disgusting?” I do my best to hide the sadness from my voice, but some of it bleeds out, the edges cracking as my true emotions rise to the surface.
I can’t bear to let him see the shimmer of tears in my eyes, so I look away. I promised myself that I wouldn’t let him see me cry, not ever again, and look at me now. Angry, I keep my gaze turned so he can’t see it. Use it against me.