Chapter 3 #4
My heart wasn’t just racing; it was running a marathon, its frantic rhythm surely audible in the quiet car.
I wanted to lean into his touch, to close my eyes and pretend this meant what I wanted it to mean, that this wasn’t just brotherly concern but something more, something forbidden and wonderful.
Instead, I forced myself to stay still, caught between fight or flight or…
something else entirely, something that involved closing the distance between us in ways I shouldn’t even be thinking about.
“Jaxson…” His name escaped like a prayer or a plea. I wasn’t sure which. My voice sounded strange to my own ears, too soft, too vulnerable.
“Do you need money that badly?” The question was soft, concerned, but there was something else in his voice. Something that made my stomach flip, a tension that hadn’t been there before. His eyes searched mine, those amber-hazel depths filled with an emotion I couldn’t quite name.
I licked my lips—a nervous habit that I really needed to break, especially when his eyes tracked the movement like that, his gaze dropping to my mouth for a heartbeat before returning to my eyes.
“That’s not… I mean…” I took a breath, trying to gather my scattered thoughts, which was nearly impossible with him so close, with his scent filling my lungs and his hand still warm against my face.
“I just want to be independent. I can’t keep relying on you forever. ”
“Why not?”
The simple question knocked the air from my lungs, leaving me momentarily speechless.
Because if I keep depending on you, I’ll never be able to move on.
Because every time you touch me like this, I forget you’re my stepbrother.
Because I’m in love with you, and it’s killing me to live in the same house, to see you every day and know I can never have what I want.
“I’m twenty-one now,” I managed instead, pulling away from his touch before I did something stupid like lean into it, like turn my face and press my lips against his palm. “I need to stand on my own.” The words sounded hollow even to my own ears, a pale reflection of the truth I couldn’t speak.
“By working at a bar?” There was an edge to his voice now, a hardness that contrasted sharply with the gentleness of his touch. His jaw was set, that stubborn line I knew all too well appearing.
“By earning my own money,” I corrected, then added without thinking, “So I can move—”
“Move?” The word came out sharp, almost angry. His hand shot out, gripping my arm with unexpected intensity, his fingers digging into my flesh. “You’re planning to move out?” The question was laden with something that sounded almost like panic, his eyes widening slightly.
Shit. I hadn’t meant to let that slip, not yet, not before I had concrete plans. “I didn’t— That’s not—” I winced as his grip tightened further. “Jaxson, you’re hurting me.”
He released me instantly, like my skin had burned him, horror flashing across his face. “Sorry,” he breathed, looking genuinely distressed. “I didn’t mean to— Are you really thinking of leaving?” The raw emotion in his voice made my chest ache, guilt twisting inside me like a living thing.
For a moment, I almost told him the truth—that I needed to leave because staying was slowly breaking me, that living under the same roof as him while harboring these feelings was a special kind of torture. But the words stuck in my throat, trapped behind years of practiced silence.
“It’s nothing,” I lied, staring determinedly at the dashboard again, tracing the pattern of the leather with my eyes. “I have to go. I’ll be late.” The excuse was flimsy but necessary, an escape route from a conversation I wasn’t ready to have.
I scrambled out of the car before he could stop me, before I could say something else I’d regret.
Before I could give in to the urge to tell him exactly why I needed to put some distance between us.
The morning air was cool against my flushed skin, a welcome relief from the charged atmosphere of the car.
My heart was still doing its best drum solo impression as I rushed into the convenience store, nearly colliding with my boss. Dan was a middle-aged man with perpetually rumpled clothes and kind eyes that missed nothing, his expression curious as he took in my flustered state.
“Morning, Lan,” Dan greeted, eyebrows raised. “Did you run here? Your face is completely red.” His tone was light, but I caught the concern beneath it, the way his eyes flickered to the parking lot where Jaxson’s car was still parked.
Yeah, no kidding. Try sitting in a confined space with the guy you’re in love with while he touches your face and looks at you like… like you’re something precious and forbidden all at once. Like he wants to say something but can’t find the words. Like he’s fighting the same battle I am.
No, that was wishful thinking. Jaxson was just being Jaxson—protective, caring, the perfect big brother. The problem was me and my inappropriate feelings, not him.
“Morning, Dan,” I managed, heading for the staff room before he could ask any more questions, before he could see the confusion and longing that I was sure was written all over my face. “Just… excited about work.”
Right. Because that was totally believable. At least the morning couldn’t get any more complicated.
I really needed to stop tempting fate like that.