17. The Jealousy
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE JEALOUSY
Layla
I amuse myself with my Kindle for an hour, but being in Orion’s house has me feeling restless and inquisitive. I don’t have to teach ballet intensive for three more hours, so after reading the same page several times, I set my Kindle on the coffee table before reaching down and petting Sparrow. He’s oddly comfortable here, purring contentedly as he dozes at my feet. When I stand, he looks up at me for a second before setting his head back down and rolling over onto his back, stretching.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I mumble resignedly. “You’re enjoying this life of luxury, aren’t you?”
He meows in response, yawning and closing his eyes, completely blissed out.
I chuckle as I stand and stretch. Slowly walking around the living room, I take in all the details to get a better picture of my stepbrother, but there’s almost nothing personable in here. I’d visited once or twice when Chase lived here, and it looks like Orion didn’t make any changes when he took over the deed to the apartment. Aside from the pool and massive aviary, of course. Walking into the kitchen, I open the pantry and glance at his food again. There are a lot of ingredients I overlooked earlier, which means he probably cooks a lot. That makes sense, seeing as he made me waffles from scratch.
You can tell a lot about someone based on their food, and Orion seems to prioritize cooking. I think back to when we lived under the same roof. I suppose he used to cook a lot back then, too. He’d oftentimes make food for the four of us, and it was only when he started drinking more that he stopped.
Swallowing, I walk into the dining room next. It’s beautiful, looking over the Los Angeles basin and the ocean a few miles past that. There’s a table with his mail, but it looks like it’s all utility bills and spam.
I walk back out into the living area and down the hallway to the wide stairway. I hadn’t realized there was a second story, so I walk upstairs where I’m surprised to see another small kitchen, a home theater, a game room, and a gym. None of them have anything personal, so I’m in and out in a minute. I don’t even know what I’m searching for—something to show me who he is, I guess. Something tangible.
I walk back down to the first story, tiptoeing down the main hallway. There’s a closed door, and I can hear Orion speaking to someone on the phone. Must be the office. I keep walking down the hallway, peeking into one of the other guest bathrooms. For an apartment, there are a lot of rooms between the two floors.
And none of them gives me a better picture of my stepbrother.
I look to my right and glance into what I now know is Orion’s bedroom.
My cheeks flame when I think of what I saw earlier—of how he made eye contact with me as he came.
Goose bumps erupt along my skin when I think about it, and I chew on my lower lip as I debate snooping some more.
Making a split-second decision, I go right and walk into his bedroom.
Out of all the rooms, this one smells the most like him. There’s a fancy phone charging station, and next to it are his wallet, keys, and some loose change. There’s also a black-and-silver Hermès watch. I walk over and pick it up, brows furrowed when I realize it’s the same watch his mom had gotten him for his high school graduation years ago. Something catches in my throat when I set it back down.
I miss Felicity every day, but my birthday is always the hardest. I had just turned eighteen when cancer took her, I wish I’d had more than ten years with her. For all intents and purposes, she’s the only mother I’ve ever had because I don’t remember my birth mother. Felicity loved me, and I loved her—but Orion was her pride and joy. They had a special connection—the sort of affinity that almost hurt to look at because it was so pure. When she died, Orion took it so hard.
And then I pushed him away completely.
I take a deep breath and walk over to his closet. The door is open, and I step inside the large walk-in dressing room. As my eyes wander over the leather and black, gray, and white, I’m suddenly nostalgic for what we missed out on over the past seven years. The friendship, the closeness… he was everything to me at one point. One day, he was there, and the next, he wasn’t.
I pick up a black hoodie and bring it to my face, inhaling his familiar smell. It’s just like Starboy’s hoodie…
I chuckle to myself at the idea of mixing Starboy and Orion into the same person.
It’s impossible.
My eyes catch on a small turquoise bag sitting atop some folded sweaters. Checking behind me, I confirm that I’m still alone as I pull it from the shelf. My heart hammers inside of my chest. As I glance inside, I gasp as a small leather ring box comes into view. Reaching inside with my free hand, I let the bag drop onto the floor as I pull the box open, already suspecting what it is.
My breathing hitches when I see a classic Tiffany engagement ring. The diamond is massive—this must’ve cost a fortune. And the band is rose gold, something I happen to love in jewelry.
He bought a ring for her— for whoever he’s dating.
Ice spreads through me, turning my food to lead in my stomach. An acute sense of loss rushes through me, as does betrayal. But why? We’re not dating—not even close. He’s allowed to be in love, to envision a life with someone else. My eyes sting as I reach down for the bag and drop the box into it a little too roughly, shoving it back onto a random shelf.
My breathing quickens as I exit Orion’s closet and then his room.
Why do I even care? Why does the misery feel so acute, almost like it’s a physical pain? Swallowing the despair lodged in my throat, I walk into the guest bedroom where my things are and slam my door closed before I begin packing everything up.
Screw this.
I can’t be around him and think of how he’ll plan it. Of how he’s going to be someone’s fiancé soon, and then have a wedding…
God, what is my problem? Why am I so jealous, and why am I having this reaction?
Sparrow meows loudly outside my door, and when I pull it open, Orion is standing there with his arms crossed.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
A raw and primitive grief washes through me, and I can’t understand why. He’s Orion. My stepbrother—someone I’ve known since I was eight. Yet all I can think about is how he belongs to someone else now.
I shrug, feeling resigned as I look down at my bare feet. “Fine. I think I should go and check on my dad, make sure he’s doing okay?—”
“Layla.”
His voice is low, and when I look back up at him, something tortured passes over his expression before his jaw hardens.
“I told you before, you’re welcome to stay here. It’s nearly one hundred ten degrees out right now.”
I clench my teeth as I look down again. My throat aches, and when he takes a step closer, I close my eyes, feeling utterly miserable.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, and I can smell the strawberry flavor of the sparkling water he drinks.
The pain inside me becomes a sick and fiery gnawing, and I feel sick to my stomach.
He chose a ring for someone else. He’s going to ask someone else to marry him. And the worst part is, I’ve pushed him away time and time again, so why am I surprised? Why would someone like him, someone charming, handsome, charismatic, funny, bossy, and kind, stay single?
I may have feelings for him—feelings I don’t want to acknowledge—but I have no claim over him.
And maybe I never did.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he says, his voice low and pleading. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
I squeeze my eyes tighter as a tear escapes. He can never know—he can never know I found the ring or that I’m so bitterly jealous that I feel like I might be sick at his feet.
When I open my eyes, his shoulders are heaving as he breathes, as his eyes lock onto mine. And there—in his darkened pupils, in the way his lids droop a bit lower as his eyes dart around my face—I see it.
A flicker of something behind his intense expression.
Without thinking, I stand on my tiptoes, reach for his neck, and pull him down for a kiss.
He stumbles, completely taken off guard. One of his hands land on my waist and the other comes to my face to drag me in closer. And just when I expect him to push me away, the hand on my waist pulls me roughly—almost violently —against his body as he kisses me back.
In the same breath, my mouth opens as my hands tremble, as my knees shake, and his tongue darts inside my mouth. He inhales sharply, and I moan. The shock of him—of kissing him and how right it feels is utterly intoxicating. Just like last time. His lips are soft, and he smells a little minty and a bit like strawberry. My hands come to his arms, and I trail them down his corded muscles. He groans against my mouth as a full-body shudder works through him, and I suddenly can’t get enough. He pulls back slightly, but he doesn’t let me go.
“Layla,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear.
“Don’t stop,” I whimper, pulling his face back to mine and kissing him again. He doesn’t stop me, instead letting his lips recapture mine—more demanding this time. Punishing. Almost bruising.
He walks me back to the bed, and I place a hand on his chest, feeling the way his heart is quickly pounding against his ribs. Touching me with demanding mastery, he scrapes my sensitive skin with his calloused fingertips, running down my arms and then back to my waist. I gasp and pull away as his other hand comes to one of my breasts, cupping it as he lets out a low, possessive growl. My body turns to jelly as one of his hands comes underneath my top, and when he presses his hips against my pelvis, I’m shocked to feel the rigid length pressing against my stomach.
This is normal, completely normal. I’m kissing my stepbrother ? —
A heavy, guilty thought enters my mind as Orion groans again, placing both hands around my waist and squeezing.
I expect full monogamy while we’re doing this. I will abide by the same rules.
Just as I think it, Orion pulls away and takes a step back. Shivers of delight—or perhaps adrenaline—cause me to tremble and touch my fingers to my lips. My eyes find Orion’s. He’s breathing heavily, and his eyes are nearly black with arousal. Blood pounds in my brain as I try to catch my breath, and if his wild expression is any indication, he’s doing the same.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t—we shouldn’t?—”
“And why is that?” he asks, almost pained.
I tilt my head in confusion. “Because you’re dating someone else, and so am I.”
His eyes narrow ever so slightly. “Then why did you kiss me?”
I cross my arms as my eyes begin to sting with more tears. “I don’t know. Why did you kiss me at Zoe and Liam’s wedding rehearsal dinner?”
A hurt expression rolls over his face, and he runs a hand through his hair. He laughs, but it’s not kind. Instead, it feels like he’s angry.
Like I should know the answer, somehow.
“Stay as long as you want,” he says. “But I can’t be in the same room as you right now.” He quickly turns around and walks out of my room.
He walked away last time, too.
I stand there in stunned silence for several minutes, only coming out of my stupor when Sparrow begins to meow and weave between my legs.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I find an engagement ring and lose my shit, and then I decide to solve things by kissing Orion?
I grab my purse and keys, walking into the hallway and stepping into the sandals from earlier. Just as I press the button for the elevator, Orion comes around the corner and stops when he sees me.
“I need some fresh air,” I tell him, jamming the button harder.
“In this weather?” he asks, crossing his arms and frowning.
I ignore his question. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Fine. See you later,” he says, eyes on mine. His voice is cold. Unfriendly. But there’s something behind his eyes, some kind of hurt or betrayal or?—
With a pang, I recognize the look on his face.
Fear.
Stark and vivid fear glitters in his eyes.
The elevator chimes, and the doors slide apart. “Yeah. See you later,” I mutter, keeping eye contact until the doors slide shut.