7. Lilian
Lilian
“ W hy are you hiding?” Aries demands, eyes boring into mine with an intensity that makes me take a small step back—or at least, I try to. That’s difficult with the iron grip he has on me. I’m both alarmed and mesmerized by his appearance. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen him since graduation, most of which were in passing. He never said hi, never even acknowledged I was present. Not until today.
Given our history, I’m tempted to ask him why he’s hiding. Especially since he’s spent weeks avoiding family dinners, me, and anything to do with the Hayes name. Hiding out at The Mill, or using his friends as excuses to get out of family obligations. It’s all bullshit, petty even, but somehow I can make myself understand why he’s doing it.
That doesn’t mean I like all the distance though.
“I could ask you the same question.” I’m not sure how I get the words out when my tongue feels as heavy as it does. “Did you decide to make an appearance because everyone’s worried about you? Or because of family obligations?” I still can’t get a good read on him.
He flashes his pearly white teeth at me, and my heartbeat spikes.
I’m so confused right now. This is Aries, but then again, do I even know him anymore? Two years is a long time for someone to go without talking to you except by force—with the exception of that brief dinner exchange we had a month or so ago. He studies me with an unfamiliar hunger. The air heats, and with it so does my skin. My cheeks have to be flaming, or at least it feels that way with how hot my skin burns the longer he stares at me.
What the hell? He’s never been so bold as to look at me like I’m a meal to be consumed, and especially not in front of anyone.
He tugs the almost finished glass of whiskey out of my hands and down its.
“Hey! That was mine.”
He smirks. Fuck, why does that look so sexy on him? “Pretty sure you’re only supposed to be having water.”
I glare now. “Pretty sure you have better things to do than monitor what I’m drinking. You haven’t spoken to me in forever and the first thing out of your mouth is this?”
“Dance with me,” he demands, avoiding my question altogether.
My body responds before my brain processes the command. Wait.
I open my mouth to object but he’s moving us toward the dance floor, his hand guiding me with confidence. The type of confidence I’ve never seen before. The hesitation, the careful distance he usually maintains—it’s gone. Did he fall and hit his head? Did he forget all the things he said the last time we were alone together, when I was eighteen? There’s no other logical reasoning for his change.
“I didn’t think you danced?” I ask, my voice barely audible above the music. It’s a lame response but I’m grasping at anything to keep him here, keep his hands on me.
He pulls me closer than propriety allows, close enough that I can feel the steady beat of his healthy heart against my hands. “Oh, there are many things you don’t know about me, Lilian.”
We move in perfect synchronization, him guiding me with a fluid grace. I’ve never seen Aries dance before. I didn’t even know he could dance
“You’re staring,” he says, amusement coating his voice.
I know I am, but I can’t help it.
I’m cataloging differences between who he is today, and who he was that night.
A flash of his lips on my skin, his hands perfectly molded around me. It only sets fire to the embers he’s stoked since he grabbed my waist.
This is what you want Lilian. What you’ve waited years for. His attention, his touch, his desire. If that’s true then why am I so confused by it?
My body wants to give in, wants me to accept his touch, to react, but something about it feels wrong. His thumb traces circles against my lower back, making it difficult for me to concentrate. I notice there are calluses on his palm against mine that shouldn’t be there.
What has he been up to?
“Sorry,” I whisper, trying to match his confidence. “I’m surprised, that’s all. I didn’t expect you to be here; nor did I expect you to talk to me. Even if Mother convinces you to come to one of these things, you usually ignore me.”
Panic flashes in his hazel eyes, but it vanishes so quickly I think I might have imagined it.
“Familial obligations, remember?” His hand slides lower, entering dangerous territory for siblings, even step ones. “As for talking to you, I have to keep up appearances, right?”
Other couples give us space, clearing the dance floor like they can sense the predatory energy radiating off him. I feel the sudden shift in the air, and I know my mother’s watching. I can feel her gaze burning into my skin, following each step and twirl. I catch a glimpse of her expression, both shocked and concerned, when we turn again.
“I guess, but don’t you think this gives the wrong vibe? I mean, we’re siblings, Aries. I don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea,” I explain, studying his face a little harder.
My tone is deliberately clipped and cold when I toss the same words he gave me that very night back at him. It’s strange how his features twist with confusion.
Did he forget that night?
It’s possible. I’m sure it was a much bigger event for me than for him.
I stare at him, unable to look away. He looks like Aries —my Aries— except he’s not the same. There’s a darkness to him that wasn’t there before.
What have you been up to?
As if he can hear my thoughts, he spins me abruptly before pulling me back against his chest. The impact makes me gasp, and I clutch onto his tuxedo lapel, afraid I might fall.
His lips brush my ear as he whispers, “Let them get the wrong idea. Who cares what they think anyway? Only you and I know the truth, and that’s all that matters.”
An involuntary shiver ripples through me as his thumb presses against my pulse point—right where my heart’s irregularity is most obvious. This is a different behavior than I’m used to. In the past, he never drew attention to my condition, at least not so deliberately. He’s always been so careful, borderline clinical, in his physical interactions with me, as if standing too closely or speaking too loudly might send me over the edge.
Eight years of watching Aries from the shadows has made me an expert in his mannerisms. The way he unconsciously touches his left cuff link when uncomfortable. The slight furrow between his brows when he’s thinking. The precise distance he maintains between us—always exactly one step too far for intimacy.
This man—-though he is Aries—isn’t him at the same time. He’s a perfect mirror image with all the details reversed, and there is no way to explain it. It feels like I don’t know him. Like he’s a different person.
“Tell me what you’re thinking?” he says, and even his voice is subtly wrong—slightly deeper, more commanding.
“About you, and how different you are acting. With me, and just everything. You disappeared and came back different. It’s like you aren’t even you anymore.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “You say that like it’s a bad thing?”
Is it? I can’t be sure. All I know is that the longer he touches me, the more I want to let him consume me.
“Change is always good, but…”
His hand slides down my spine, sending electric currents across my flesh. Feelings I tried to purge from my soul are suddenly amplified to dangerous levels.
“But what?”
“This feels different, not like change. Change is forming a new habit, giving something up for a good reason. You’re…like a different person.” And that sounds crazy because he’s not a different person. He’s still Aries, but somehow, he isn’t. “I can’t explain it.”
I can’t put my finger on it, but something is off. Not only in the essence of his interest in me, but his boldness, his reappearance like he never left. Like he never broke something inside me and it was nothing.
“Maybe you’re thinking too much into it. Sometimes you have to shed what you used to be to find your real purpose.” He grins down at me, and my stomach does this strange somersault.
I nod, understanding what he’s saying, but not fully convinced by it.
Even if he’s different, that doesn’t mean things between us are different. I doubt his stance on us being together has changed.
“You’re trembling,” he observes. “Is your heart acting up?”
“No. Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” I lie, allowing myself half a moment to lean into his touch. I’m consumed by his presence, every breath, every skim of his fingers against my skin.
I want him to want me like I want him.
It’s all I’ve wished for, for the past two years. More if I’m being honest with myself.
His hand cups my cheek, his touch gentle, and I’m unable to stop myself from leaning into his palm. Am I so weak for his touch that I will take whatever I can get? Any little bit of attention? I hate to think he might take this moment between us and use it against me, but I’m too desperate for his touch to stop it.
His thumb brushes my lower lip, and the muscles in my stomach tighten.
“You deserve better than to be paraded around like some show pony.” The genuine disgust in his voice catches me off guard. He knows this is my only objective, just as his is to become the heir to the family’s wealth and business.
“So do you…” I swallow. “Deserve better, I mean.” I’m tempted to flick my tongue against the tip of his thumb just to see what he’ll do.
There’s no way he can break my heart any more than he already has.
A strange, unreadable look flickers in his eyes at my remark.
“You look like you could use some fresh air.” The hard edge to his tone makes the words come out in a demand rather than a statement. There’s no room for argument, not when he’s already tugging me along with him.
The absence of his touch on my bare skin, only one hand anchored at my lower back, creates a hollow ache in my chest. I ignore the feeling and allow him to steer us away from the dance floor and toward the terrace doors.
The cool night air kisses my bare shoulders, and goose bumps rise like a warning across my skin. Aries notices and shrugs out of his jacket, draping it over me. His scent cocoons me, and I resist the urge to bury my nose in the lapels of the jacket.
“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.
Aries isn’t having it and grasps my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. His expression darkens, a flash of possession flickering in his warm hazel eyes. “How could I ever have been so stupid? To deny us both what we want?”
“I don’t know, but I won’t do this again with you. I won’t put myself in a position to have my heart broken because you’re too afraid to face your feelings.”
Aries’s lips part, and he’s seconds from responding when the French doors fly open.
He takes a step back, his touch leaving me, and my mother appears in the doorway, her gaze narrowing in suspicion. A breath gets trapped in my lungs, and I hesitate to move, to react at all for fear she’ll draw conclusions I can’t talk myself out of.
“I brought Lilian out here for some fresh air. She was looking a little pale.” Aries recovers first, giving my mother that dazzling smile that always gets him out of trouble.
“You’re such a good big brother,” she dotes, giving him a grin in return. “Always so kind and considerate of your sister’s needs.”
I’d roll my eyes at her response if I knew it wouldn’t earn me a conversation on disrespect and proper obedience later.
“That’s my job.” He licks his lips, and a sudden heat creeps into my cheeks as indecent thoughts tumble into my head.
“It certainly is, however, you have a more pressing matter on your hands. Your father has been looking for you all evening. Maybe you should go speak with him.” It’s not a suggestion. All three of us know it.
“Yes. Of course. Let me go find him.” Aries nods, and then slips in the doors.
There’s nothing abnormal about his response; it’s pretty much standard, but for some reason, I get this twist in my gut, the strange feeling that something is wrong.
Stop being paranoid, Lilian.
“I’m sorry for disappearing like that,” I apologize and peer into her blue eyes, looking for the woman she used to be.
Physically, she’s still my mother. She looks like my mother. And every once in a while, I catch a small glimpse of the mom she used to be, who took me to every single heart appointment, who braided my hair, and read me bedtime stories. Those moments are nothing but memories from a time that seems so far away I can no longer tell if they were real or not. Or maybe some fantasy I made up in my head. Just like this stupid thing with Aries.
Even her eyes, which used to be filled with warmth and life back before she married Richard, have grown duller and vacant of joy. More than anything, I miss her smile, the real one, not the fake one she paints on for charity events or political interviews.
How did we get here?
She shakes her head at me. “Every time I think you might understand your place in the family, you find a way to disappoint me.”
My chest aches, because even if I hate the person she’s becoming, the idea of disappointing her hurts me. I want her approval, her love.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I will try better next time.”
“I’m sure you will, although I’m starting to wonder if there should even be a next time. Maybe you aren’t cut out for this family after all.”
I can’t fathom what that even means, and I’m unable to wipe the shock from my face. “What does that mean?”
In typical fashion, she shakes her head and dismisses me. “It means you need to stop disappointing me. Now leave. You’re free to go. George will drive you home.”
I bite my tongue and swallow the questions queuing up in my head.
If I thought Aries’s reappearance was strange, nothing tops my mother’s words echoing with disappointment in my mind.
Maybe you aren’t cut out for this family after all.
While her words leave a gaping hole in my chest, a bigger question needs to be answered. What will they do with me if I continue to make mistakes and I’m no longer cut out to play my part?