Scarlett #2
‘Always,’ he replies, mouth curving in a way that makes girls fall apart without realising they’ve stepped into a trap.
I swallow hard, pressing my nails into the curve of my palm until it hurts. My coffee’s gone cold, untouched, but I don’t dare move, don’t dare walk out and give her the satisfaction of knowing she’s chased me away.
She notices me again, tilts her head like I’m just an afterthought. ‘Scarlett, right? Kai didn’t mention you’d be here last night.’
I force a smile that tastes like iron. ‘He wouldn’t.’
Kai’s smirk deepens, his eyes flicking to me for the briefest second before sliding back to her — like he heard it, like he liked it.
Ava laughs again, too loud in this quiet house. ‘We should go back tonight. Same bar. You can watch me kick his arse in pool again.’
‘Dream on,’ Kai says, his voice low, rough, almost fond. He’s leaning closer now, his arm stretched across the back of her chair, fingers resting against the wood like they could just as easily rest against her spine.
I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe because every part of me is screaming to walk across the kitchen, rip her hands off him, wipe that lipstick off his mug, claw that smug little smile from her face.
But I stay where I am. Frozen. Silent. Watching Kai laugh with a girl who isn’t me.
Ava’s still talking, still laughing, still making herself at home in a house that isn’t hers, sipping from Kai’s mug like she owns it. My skin feels too tight, my throat raw from holding back words I shouldn’t say.
I set my untouched coffee down with more force than necessary, the sound sharp against the marble. Both their heads turn. Ava blinks, curious. Kai watches me, lazy and sharp, like a predator who doesn’t need to move to remind me I’m already caught.
‘I can’t join you,’ I say finally, my voice clipped, brittle. ‘I’ve got somewhere else to be.’
Ava shrugs, already dismissing me. ‘Your loss.’
Kai doesn’t look away. His smirk doesn’t shift. His eyes pin me in place, dark and dangerous, like he knows I’m lying — like he’s daring me to dig the hole deeper.
‘Where?’ he asks casually, but it’s not. It’s a blade slipped under skin.
My fingers tighten around the edge of the counter. ‘Does it matter?’
‘It does if you’re running from me.’ He leans back in his chair, stretching long, slow, his arm still resting behind Ava, but his gaze never leaves me. ‘So where is it, Scarlett?’
I swallow, heat crawling up my neck. ‘Out.’
‘Out,’ he repeats, the word rolling slow off his tongue. ‘With who?’
The kitchen feels too small; the air too heavy. Ava looks between us, confused, a smile tugging at her mouth like she doesn’t get the undercurrent — like she thinks this is harmless sibling banter. But Kai knows. I know.
My jaw locks. ‘Friends.’
His grin deepens, wicked. ‘What friends?’
The silence between us snaps tight, stretching until I feel it in my bones.
His voice is smooth, easy, but his eyes are knives, cutting straight through every flimsy defence I try to raise.
Ava laughs softly, trying to break whatever just wrapped itself around the room, but Kai doesn’t even glance at her.
He’s only looking at me.
I hate that it makes my knees weak.
My pulse is thundering in my ears, my nails biting half-moons into my palms, but I hold his stare and force the words out.
‘Just a friend, Kai,’ I bite, the name sharp as glass between my teeth. ‘It’s nothing. And it’s none of your fucking business what I do.’
Ava blinks, eyebrows rising, but she laughs a second later like it’s funny — like I’m just another bratty little sister snapping for attention. She doesn’t get it. She’ll never get it.
Kai’s smirk widens, slow and deliberate, but there’s no warmth in it.
He tilts his head, eyes narrowing just slightly, and for one terrifying second I think he’s going to push harder, strip me bare right here in front of her.
Instead, he leans back in his chair, stretches out like a king surveying his kingdom, and murmurs, ‘Careful, Scarlett. Your mouth’s showing. ’
I tear my gaze away before he can see what that does to me, stride to the counter, and yank open a cupboard.
The slam of wood is louder than I mean it to be, but I don’t care.
I pull things out — eggs, bread, a pan — moving with quick, jerky motions, anything to keep my hands busy, anything to stop myself from shaking.
The sizzle of butter in the pan fills the silence, the smell cutting through the heavy air. I crack eggs too hard, shells breaking wrong, yolk sliding over my fingers, and I curse under my breath as I wipe them on a dish towel. Behind me, Ava’s laughter rings out again, too bright, too sweet.
‘You’re intense in the mornings,’ she teases Kai, her voice dripping with sugar.
‘You’ve no idea,’ he says, low, smooth, and I nearly drop the spatula.
I flip the eggs with more force than necessary, the toast popping up with a sharp click, the kitchen filling with the sound of my rushed movements. My back is to them, but I can still feel his gaze drilling into me — hotter than the stove, heavier than the air I can barely breathe.
I pile the eggs onto a plate, add the toast, and set it on the table in front of the empty chair across from him. My hands are steady now, but only because I force them to be.
Kai glances at the plate, then up at me, eyes glinting like he knows exactly what I’m doing. ‘I didn’t know you cared enough to cook for me.’
‘I didn’t,’ I snap, dropping the spatula back onto the counter with a clatter.
Ava giggles softly, swinging her legs. ‘This house is fun.’
Kai doesn’t look at her.
He’s only looking at me.
I drop into the chair opposite him like I don’t care — like I’m not choking on the air, like my stomach isn’t already in knots.
The fork feels too heavy in my hand, the eggs on the plate already cooling, but I stab a bite and shove it into my mouth anyway, chewing like it’ll keep me from saying something I can’t take back.
Across from me, Kai leans back, one arm stretched along the back of Ava’s chair. He doesn’t look at her when his fingers graze the bare skin of her thigh, but I see it. I see the way she jolts a little, the way she giggles nervously before relaxing into it.
My fork scrapes hard against the plate.
Kai’s smirk curls deeper, lazy and sharp. ‘So,’ he says, voice low, casual, but his eyes are on me. ‘Tell me about this friend you’re meeting.’
I lift my chin, force my fork steady. ‘I already told you — it’s nothing.’
‘Nothing doesn’t keep you out of the house at dawn,’ he murmurs, tracing a slow circle on Ava’s thigh with one finger. She squirms, laughing under her breath, but he doesn’t even glance at her. His eyes dare me to react.
My chest tightens, heat crawling up my neck. ‘Maybe I don’t want to tell you everything.’
He tilts his head, teeth catching his bottom lip in a mock-thoughtful look, then shrugs. ‘Maybe you should.’
Ava leans into him, batting her lashes, her voice light. ‘God, you two fight like an old married couple.’
The words hit like a slap, but Kai doesn’t laugh. He just takes a slow sip of his coffee, mouth brushing the lipstick stain again, eyes never leaving mine.
I stab another bite of eggs, chew hard, and swallow the burn in my throat. I should get up. I should walk away before I break, but I don’t.
Leaving would mean losing — and I don’t lose to Ava.
Not when Kai’s fingers are still on her thigh, but his attention belongs entirely to me.
I can’t swallow with a lump in my throat.
His hand slides higher on her thigh, slow, deliberate, and she doesn’t even flinch — she leans into it, her laugh bubbling out as if she’s drunk on the attention.
My fork clatters too loud against the plate, and Kai’s smirk deepens, like he’s feeding on the sound, on the way my fingers shake when I reach for my glass of water.
‘So who is he, Scarlett?’ Kai asks, voice smooth, dragging the question out like he already knows the answer. ‘This friend you’re so desperate to run off to.’
‘Maybe you don’t know everything about me,’ I mutter, hating the way my voice cracks at the edges.
‘Maybe I do.’ His thumb strokes slow against Ava’s skin, his gaze locked on mine, never hers. ‘And maybe I don’t like being lied to.’
Ava shifts, her smile too bright, trying to break the taut silence snapping between us. ‘God, you’re intense, Kai. No wonder you scare people off.’ She laughs, nudges his shoulder. ‘But not me. I like it.’
The words hang there, sweet and sharp, and the smirk vanishes from his mouth. For the first time this morning, his expression hardens — cold, deadly. His hand pulls back from her thigh as if she’s nothing.
‘You’ll see me later,’ he says flatly — final, no room for argument.
Ava blinks, caught off guard, then recovers with a coy smile.
She slides off the counter, smoothing her dress down over her thighs, and when she stands, she leans right into him.
Her body presses full against his, her perfume spilling through the kitchen as she tilts her face up and kisses him slow, deep, like she’s leaving a mark for me to choke on.
I don’t move. I can’t. My nails dig into my palm hard enough to draw blood, but I don’t look away.
When she finally pulls back, her lipstick smeared, she grins, breathless. ‘Later, Kai.’
He doesn’t even answer.
She sways out of the kitchen, heels clicking against the tile, and the silence she leaves behind is so loud it makes my ears ring.
And then it’s just us.
The door clicks shut behind her, and for a second the whole kitchen feels too big, too empty, the smell of her perfume clinging to the air like smoke after a fire.
I stab my fork into the eggs again though I’ve got no appetite left, chewing just to keep from spitting the taste of bile onto the floor.
‘She was charming,’ I say finally, my voice flat but my smile razor-edged. ‘Lipstick on your mug, perfume all over the house. Real subtle, Kai.’
His mouth curves, slow, cruel. ‘Jealous?’