Chapter 3 #2
I remembered waking up in the hospital, Jaxson’s face hovering above mine, pale and drawn with worry.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he’d whispered, his voice rough with emotion.
He’d stayed by my bed all night, his hand holding mine, anchoring me in a world that felt like it was falling apart.
That was the moment something shifted in our relationship—when he went from being my stepbrother to being my protector, my guardian, my everything.
“You’re doing that thing again.” Wei’s voice cut through my brooding, dragging me back to the present.
“The one where you space out and look like a sad character from a webtoon.” His tone was teasing, but I caught the flicker of genuine concern beneath it.
For all his sarcasm and knowing smirks, Wei had always been able to read me better than anyone.
I blinked, realizing I’d been staring at my French toast like it had personally offended me, possibly by insulting my ancestors. “I do not look like a webtoon character.” The denial was automatic, though I knew it was a losing battle.
“You kind of do,” Nico chimed in helpfully, mouth full of eggs, a smudge of syrup decorating his chin. “Especially with that whole ‘delicate flower’ thing you’ve got going on.” He gestured vaguely at my face with his fork, nearly taking Colt’s eye out in the process.
“The word you’re looking for is ‘Shrine Maiden,’” Wei corrected with a smirk that made me want to dump his precious coffee over his head.
“It’s in his genes, apparently. Mom said our great-grandmother had the same look—petite, pretty, and prone to attracting stalkers.
” He took another sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim with those knowing eyes that missed nothing.
“The Ji women were famous for it, apparently. Something about the bloodline.”
Colt actually paused his methodical breakfast consumption at that, his fork frozen halfway to his mouth. “Stalkers?” The single word contained more sharp edges than seemed possible, his usual precise diction giving way to something harder, almost protective.
“Oh yeah.” Wei was clearly enjoying himself now, settling back in his chair like a storyteller preparing for his grand performance.
“Some guy tried to kidnap her, claimed she’d put a spell on him with her looks.
” He gestured dramatically, nearly spilling his precious coffee.
“Said he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t think of anything but her.
Poor bastard probably just needed therapy, but back then they called it ‘bewitchment.’”
Nico burst out laughing, nearly choking on his breakfast, his eyes watering as he coughed and sputtered.
“So that’s why half the city’s male population keeps stalking Lan!
They probably think he has magical powers or something.
” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively once he’d recovered, his expression comically lascivious.
“Though I doubt it’s his spiritual energy they’re after. ”
“It’s not funny,” I muttered, stabbing my eggs with more force than necessary, imagining they were Wei’s smug face.
It wasn’t my fault I’d inherited Mom’s delicate features and ended up looking like some kind of accidental honey trap.
The number of ‘accidental’ bumps and dropped items around me at work was getting ridiculous.
Just last week, a customer had managed to spill three separate drinks in my vicinity, each time requiring me to bend over and help clean up while he stared with all the subtlety of a foghorn.
Xander, who’d been doing his best impression of a zombie until now, cracked open an eye.
The honey-gold color was startling against his sleep-deprived pallor, surprisingly alert for someone who’d crawled in at dawn.
“You need to start dating,” he announced, like he was delivering profound wisdom, though his gaze lingered on me a beat longer than necessary, trailing down my neck to where Jaxson’s shirt gaped open.
“Or at least get laid. That’ll keep the stalkers away. ”
I nearly inhaled my French toast, trying desperately not to think about exactly who I’d like to get laid with.
Especially not when said person was sitting right across from me, looking unfairly gorgeous even while frowning, his amber-hazel eyes darkening at Xander’s suggestion.
Heat crawled up my neck, settling in my cheeks like a permanent stain.
“Excuse me?” My voice came out higher than intended, closer to a squeak than the indignant protest I’d been aiming for.
“He’s right,” Nico nodded sagely, as if he were dispensing life-changing advice rather than making me wish for a spontaneous sinkhole to open beneath my chair.
“Most of us were dating and losing our V-card by sixteen or seventeen. You’re falling behind, little bro.
Time to find yourself a nice girl… or whatever.
” He waved his fork vaguely, encompassing the wide spectrum of possibilities with a gesture that sent egg flying across the table.
Oh God, were we really having this conversation?
At breakfast? I desperately looked for an escape route, but unless I wanted to crawl under the table—tempting—or make a break for the door—even more tempting—I was trapped.
The walls of our kitchen suddenly felt too close, the air too thick with embarrassment and something else, something charged and uncomfortable.
Across from me, I caught Wei hiding a knowing smirk behind his coffee mug.
Bastard. He knew exactly what he was doing, stirring the pot like the chaos demon he was.
“Jaxson was already dating and sleeping with that hot cheerleader at sixteen,” Colt added, his usually precise movements faltering slightly as he glanced my way, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. “Jane, wasn’t it? The one with the legs that went on for days.”
My head snapped up at that, an unexpected pang of something hot and uncomfortable twisting in my stomach.
Sixteen? The image of a younger Jaxson with some faceless, leggy girl made my chest tight, a sensation too close to jealousy for comfort.
Which was ridiculous—I had no claim on Jaxson’s past or present.
He was my stepbrother, for God’s sake. My stupidly attractive, frustratingly perfect stepbrother whom I absolutely should not be imagining with anyone, least of all me.
“Can we not discuss my ancient history?” Jaxson’s voice cut through the chaos, tight with something I couldn’t identify.
His eyes locked on mine across the table, dark and intense enough to make my throat go dry.
There was something in his gaze that made my pulse quicken, a heat that had no place in a brotherly exchange.
“Just trying to help Lan understand it’s normal,” Xander said, his tone casual, though his eyes were intense as they flickered over me, lingering on the exposed line of my collarbone.
“Maybe he just needs the right… motivation.” The way he said “motivation” made it sound like something else entirely, something that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine.
Wei snorted into his coffee, the sound drawing my attention away from Xander’s unsettling gaze.
“Oh, I’m sure motivation isn’t the problem.
” His knowing smirk made me want to dump his coffee over his head, possibly followed by the entire pot.
“His Holiness probably has plenty of interested parties.” His eyes flicked meaningfully to where Jaxson sat, then to Xander, then back to me.
“He’s fine exactly as he is,” Jaxson stated flatly, his grip on his mug turning his knuckles white. The ceramic looked dangerously close to shattering in his grasp, his forearm muscles tense beneath the rolled-up sleeve of his dress shirt.
The way he said it—like he was stating an absolute truth—made my face heat up again.
Damn it. What was it about his voice that turned me into a human tomato?
One sentence from him and I was back to being a blushing mess, my body betraying me at every turn.
The worst part was how his defense made something warm unfurl in my chest, a dangerous hope I couldn’t afford to nurture.
I was going to murder Wei. Slowly. With his own fancy coffee beans.
Right after I figured out why everyone was acting so weird this morning.
The kitchen felt like a pressure cooker, tensions simmering just below the surface, ready to boil over at the slightest provocation.
Even Nico seemed to sense it, his usual chatter subdued as he glanced between his brothers.
An awkward silence fell over the table, broken only by the sound of Colt’s methodical chewing and Nico attempting to build a fortress out of his remaining French toast. I focused on my plate, willing my face to return to a normal human color instead of emergency stop sign red.
The eggs were actually good, Wei’s culinary skills turning even our budget groceries into something worth eating.
I concentrated on the taste, the texture, anything to avoid looking up and meeting any of my brothers’ gazes.
“Speaking of work,” Xander said, looking more alert now, his posture straightening as he leaned forward slightly.
“My boss asked about you again, Lan. Still interested in picking up shifts at the bar?” His expression was casual, but there was an undercurrent of something in his voice—anticipation, maybe, or something more complicated.
My heart leaped at the opportunity. Working at Xander’s bar would mean serious tips—the kind that could fatten up my savings account faster than my current jobs combined.
The kind that could get me out of this apartment and away from the daily torture of living with Jaxson, of wanting something I couldn’t have.
I opened my mouth to say yes, but Jaxson’s temperature drop was practically arctic, the atmosphere around him chilling so rapidly I half expected frost to form on his coffee mug.