5. Soren
Soren
I t’s a dream come true to get home and find a sexy woman sleeping in your bed.
Unless the woman happens to be the stepsister you haven’t seen since your dad’s fake as fuck wedding. Then, she’d been an awkward twelve-year-old.
And at eighteen, I’d barely thought about anything other than myself, except I was old enough to know what was going on between my father and his whore on the side.
Now the woman is no longer on the side but front and center and Soren , be nice to your mother . That piece of trash isn’t my mother.
And goddamn Gillian.
She hasn’t come around since the wedding.
I let go and spin her around to face me, clamping down on my lip to keep from taking my barely restrained fury out on her. But I keep my fingers on her shoulders so she doesn’t run away.
“Do you have any idea how fucking stupid it is to come without calling first? Christ. You have to do better,” I admonish.
Her expression is guarded as she glares up at me, her chin pointed out like an arrow. Her glasses are askew, smudged. “I have a right to be here,” she says.
“Do you?” I press, arching a brow high. “Because it seems to me you’ve wanted nothing to do with any of us, but now you’re happy enough to fall asleep in my bed.”
My fingers press down on her skin.
“Well, I had no idea it was your bed. If I did, I’d have chosen a different room.”
A different room—she can’t possibly plan on staying?
My eyes bug out.
She’s grown up a lot. We all do, it’s not like I expect the laws of the universe to press pause on her specifically. Her dark hair is mussed, her eyes glassy from sleep, and her lips pouty. She’s got on some ridiculous flannel shirt and soft stretchy yoga pants.
Just looking at her twists me up inside and I want to shake her. Because she’s at the cabin and she’s not fucking supposed to be.
“What are you doing?” I bark.
Her lips skew downward like she doesn’t enjoy being interrogated this way. She definitely threw me for a loop, but she made a mistake coming back into my life. Now, specifically.
And judging from the way she refuses to answer the question, the way she goes jittery underneath my fingers, there’s a lot more going on.
“Gillian, I asked you a question. And I don’t like to repeat myself.”
Her chin juts out further in outrage and defiance.
I swallow over a groan and my cock twitches in my boxers. My eye bugging goes epic wide. Oh, hell fucking no . That’s not happening.
I blame the dry spell of the last few months on my physical reaction.
Just because she’s female, and just because she's got a great ass and a great set of tits pressed to my chest doesn’t mean I need to sport a half chub.
I know nothing about her or her sisters and that’s the way I want it. There’s no such thing as an instant family.
I had a family once. My parents and me. Until my whoring father couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Divorce was a natural progression at that point.
I never expected Alistair to marry his side squeeze, to take her from the trailer park to our mansion, exchanging his family for another one.
I saw what it did to my mom.
“I needed to get away for a bit,” Gillian says at last. “I knew about the cabin. Your dad said we were free to use it whenever we wanted.”
“Go back to your hellhole trailer,” I urge. “You’re used to it by now.”
“I’m staying.” Gillian grows roots.
“Why?”
“Because your Dad offered. What’s mine is yours. Do you remember?”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Alistair and his altruistic crap.
“And you decided you didn’t need to pick up the phone and let anyone know you were coming?”
She scoffs. “Would you have answered?”
To be fair, she doesn’t have my number, and I don’t have hers. That’s the way I want it.
These crazy women and their mother… My life turned upside-down after the wedding but at least college distracted me. I had my cousin and my friends.
Who did my mother have? No one.
Gillian pulls against me, shaking like one of those tiny designer dogs who have to be carried around in a purse.
I shouldn’t come to the cabin out of principle and a deeply rooted hatred of Daddy Dearest. But I do, if only to piss him off .
Now Gillian takes it on herself to come for a reunion?
Why? What’s going on?
“No,” I admit. “I wouldn’t answer your call.”
I squeeze her harder until she flinches, swallowing to control the reaction.
Her features twist into a fierce look. “Let go of me.”
Yeah, I don’t think so.
“Why are you here?” I dip my head to the side of hers and run my nose over her cheekbone, up to her hairline. A power move and one that makes her shiver. “And don’t lie. I’ll know it if you lie.”
Her body against mine has my skin tightening, and I close my eyes against an electric current. Has it been so long since I’ve touched a woman that my body is desperate for attention? Any woman will do, apparently, including the stepsister I’ve always despised on principle.
I need to push her away.
I can’t move my arms, though, and we both stay grounded to the spot.
Fuck me .
“I needed to have a break from things,” she manages. “I couldn’t stand my apartment anymore and I figured, with them on vacation, the cabin would be empty. I already went to the trailer and my dad was there.” She snorts. “No way I’m bunking with him for a vacation.”
“Bullshit,” I bite out. “There are plenty of other places for you to go. Just because my drunk piece-of-shit father offered a blanket invitation to his portfolio of properties doesn’t mean you use it.”
Why would she pick this spot?
I never expected any of them to show up. We’d washed our hands of each other, and I’m better for it.
I push Gillian away from me, jolting back in surprise when she slaps her palms against my chest.
“You’re still a bully,” she says. “You’ve always been a bully, Soren Savage. ”
I bare my teeth at her. “I love how you talk like you know me. You don’t know shit about me, Gilli.” I exhale hard. “You should have fucking called someone. At least give us a heads-up you were on your way.”
A few heavy seconds pass where we’re both trying to size the other up and I’m failing miserably. The way she watches me brings an awful heat to my spine.
I hate how pretty she looks, with her tawny skin and her luscious curves. The way those pants fit her is criminal. She’s lost the baby fat in her face, too.
Her backside has always been large and I take great pains to avoid breaking eye contact to stare at it now. She’s let her brunette hair grow out past her shoulders, the waves wild and untamed, and beneath her glasses, her hazel eyes are pools of unfathomed depths.
“I–I don’t have a phone.”
“What do you mean, you don’t have a phone?” I ask. “Everyone has a phone these days.”
Gilli glances to the side, eager to avoid eye contact, which sends a sliver of alarm down the backs of my arms and legs.
“I…I lost my phone and I haven’t replaced it yet.” She wraps her arms around herself. “So what?”
“Then get out and buy a new one. I’m just saying. There’s no way for anyone to contact you.”
She swallows, and my scowl is about ten seconds away from becoming a permanent feature. “I’m fine for now. Any other comments you want to make about my life?”
I sneer, crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t give enough of a crap about it.”
We glare at each other and she’s not backing down. The girl has balls, I’ll give her that. If I didn’t despise her, I might admire her.
Without another word, I turn and stride out of the room, barking out my cousin’s name. “Aiden, you’d better be decent, we’ve got company. ”
“Wait a minute.” Gilli scrambles for her glasses, cramming them over her eyes before jogging after me. “Who else is here?”
“It’s Dad’s sister’s son, Aiden October. You probably don’t remember him,” I tell her.
Why am I bothering to explain?
Why am I bothering to be civil at all?
This is the shit cherry on top of an already terrible day and I want to drop into bed. Apparently, it’s not happening.
A week of constant pressure from the real estate firm where I work had the potential to be completely erased with a one-word text to Aiden.
Cabin.
He’d agreed. The drive in from New York City took me almost no time with the prospect of being completely isolated from reality waiting for me in Holly Brook.
Except there’s no isolation, not now.
Aiden’s already in the kitchen and laughing under his breath. His chuckle falters when he catches sight of Gilli behind me.
“Well, now, isn’t this interesting. The sister you hate, huh?” he asks.
She is not my sister.
Gilli pulls up short. “Wait. You hate me, Soren?”
“Those words didn’t come from my mouth, Gillian,” I snap and transfer my glare to Aiden even when he holds out a cold bottle of beer for me like it’s a peace offering.
She huffs. “I always knew we didn’t get along, but extending as far as hatred…that’s news to me.”
“I’m pretty sure I remember you, actually.” Aiden watches her, working his teeth over his lower lip. “Dark hair, glasses, yeah. Gilli, right? I mean, that’s what Soren always called you.”
He shifts from the counter to one of the chairs he pulls out from the fifties-inspired red-topped dining table. Maybe Gilli doesn’t note his slight wince when he sits but I do.
This is the last thing we need. I’m a terrible host, ungracious and pissed-off to begin with.
“She’s grown up a lot,” Aiden continues.
I turn my head only far enough for him to see my loaded look, for him alone. “She might be older but her manners are stunted. She doesn’t know that it’s wrong to show up someplace uninvited.”
Her cheeks turn pink. I still see the way she looked at me in the bedroom when she pushed against me. The way she felt?—
“I’m sure she’s got a good reason for it,” Aiden replies easily.
He’s got his habitual amused grin pinned in place but he’s not focused on me. He’s staring at Gilli with an undeniable hunger. His gaze lingers on her lips and he’s not even aware of my scowl anymore.
Horny bastard. He’ll fuck anything that moves, and right now, Gillian is the center target.