Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
LANI
I find him in the kitchen again.
He’s leaning against the counter this time, barefoot, sleeves pushed up, looking like he exists purely to irritate me.
He glances up as I enter and grins like he’s been expecting me.
“Miss me already?”
I shut the door behind me. “You’re insufferable.”
“Ah,” he says lightly. “So that’s a yes.”
I walk straight up to him. No hesitation. No pretending I came down here for tea.
“I barely know your brother,” I say, stopping just close enough to him to make a point. “But I should have realised you weren’t him much sooner.”
Kai arches a brow. “Oh?”
“He’d never be this cocky,” I continue. “Or this annoying.”
His grin widens. “You think I’m annoying?”
“Yes.”
“Yet you’re still here. Thinking about me.”
I glare. “I came to tell you something.”
“That you’re wildly attracted to me?” he offers helpfully.
Heat flashes through me, sudden and unwelcome.
I refuse to move or give him the satisfaction. “That you’re predictable.”
“Ouch.”
“You’re loud,” I say. “You take up too much space. You push too hard. Koa doesn’t.”
Something flickers in his eyes at that. Brief. Controlled.
“So you’ve been thinking about my brother?” His smirk is insufferable.
“I’ve been thinking about how you smell different.”
That shuts him up.
Just for a second.
His smile doesn’t fall, but it stills.
“You’re not identical,” I press. “You share a base. But that’s it.”
“Go on.” He leans back against the counter, studying me now instead of performing.
I shouldn’t. But I do anyway. “You both smell like sea salt,” I say slowly. “Like warm sand after the sun’s been on it all day. And smoke. Like a campfire that’s burned low.”
His throat moves when he swallows.
“But Koa…” I step closer without realising I’ve done it. “He’s sweeter underneath it. Tonka bean. Warm. Almost like vanilla. Like something that lingers.”
Kai’s breathing changes. Not obvious. But I hear it.
“And me?” he asks quietly.
“Chocolate,” I say without hesitation. “Melted. Rich. Deeper. A little bitter. Unforgettable.”
The kitchen feels smaller suddenly.
Kai’s eyes darken, something feral slipping under the charm. “You’ve been paying attention.”
“I told you,” I say. “I’m not stupid.”
“No,” he murmurs. “You’re not.”
He pushes off the counter slowly, and the movement brings him within inches of me. I don’t step back. I don’t know if I can.
His scent flares.
It’s not stronger.
It’s sharper.
The sweetness deepens, blending with smoke and salt until it feels like it’s the only thing filling my lungs.
My pulse kicks.
Kai notices.
His gaze drifts to my throat. To the place where my heartbeat jumps.
“You’re flushed,” he says casually.
“I’m annoyed.”
“Your pupils are blown.”
I hate that he’s right. “You’re imagining things.”
“I’m not,” he says softly. “I can tell.”
The words slide under my skin. “Tell what?” I challenge.
He leans in just enough that I feel the heat of him, but not enough to touch. “That you’re affected.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
“I said, I’m not.”
“And I said,” he replies, voice dropping, “that I can tell when someone’s aroused.”
The word lands like a spark to dry tinder.
Heat spreads low and sudden, pooling in a way that makes my breath catch.
I step back this time, furious at my body. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And yet,” he says, following the movement without closing the distance, “you keep coming back for more.”
I glare up at him. “Maybe I just like arguing with you.”
“Maybe you like me.”
I laugh, sharp and disbelieving. “You’re too much.”
“Too much for you?” he asks.
“Yes.”
His smile turns slow. Dangerous. “Good.”
The heat in my belly twists again, unfamiliar and insistent. It’s not the fever from before. It’s not weakness. It’s awareness.
Too bright. Too sudden.
“You think you’re charming,” I say, trying to regain ground. “But you’re just loud.”
“And you’re just pretending you don’t enjoy it,” he shoots back.
“I barely know you.”
“Then let me fix that.”
The shift in tone catches me off guard. Less teasing. More intent.
“I’ll take you out,” he continues. “Properly. No twin switch. No games. Just you and me.”
My heart stutters and I swallow nervously. “That’s a terrible idea.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re chaos.”
“And you’re scared to like it.”
I open my mouth to argue…and stop.
He sees it. Sees me.
“There it is,” he says softly. “That look.”
“What look?”
“The one where you’re deciding whether you want to hate me or kiss me.”
My breath catches.
I hate that he’s close to the truth.
“I’m not kissing you,” I say.
He leans in half an inch more. “You’ve thought about it.”
“I haven’t.”
“You just did.”
The heat spikes again, sharper this time. My body is reacting before my pride can shut it down.
Kai’s nostrils flare slightly. He doesn’t say anything else about it. But his eyes darken, and fuck, if it doesn’t look good on him.
“You don’t like not being in control,” he says quietly.
“And you don’t like being told no.”
His grin returns, softer now. “You didn’t say no.”
I shove at his chest – not hard enough to hurt, just enough to create space.
“Don’t push your luck.”
“Luck’s got nothing to do with it,” he replies.
I stare at him, pulse racing, body humming in a way I don’t understand. This isn’t just attraction. It’s…more. Louder. Complicated. Confusing.
And that unsettles me.
“I’m not your game,” I say finally.
Kai’s expression shifts. The cockiness dims just slightly.
“I know,” he says.
It’s the first honest and earnest thing he’s said.
The moment hangs between us. Too close. Too charged.
I step back before I do something reckless. My body is screaming that I should kiss him. My head is telling me I should run.
I listen to my head.
Well, kind of.
“If you want to take me out,” I say, lifting my chin, “try being less insufferable.”
He laughs softly. “So that’s a yes?”
“It’s a maybe.”
“Same difference.”
I turn for the door before my body can betray me again.
“Lani.”
I pause.
“If I kiss you,” he says lightly, “you won’t shove me away.”
I don’t look back. “Don’t test that theory.”
I leave the kitchen with my pulse still racing and his scent clinging to me like smoke after a fire.
And the worst part?
It doesn’t fade.
It lingers.
Warm.
Sweet.
Addictive.