“Liar.” He set down the lens and the cloth. “You’re thinking about what your mom would say if she saw the way you looked at me at dinner last night.”
She should. Every rational part of her brain screamed it. But rationality had left the building the moment he’d knelt before her like she was something sacred.
Nicole’s breath hitched. The book slid from her lap and thudded to the floor, but neither of them moved to pick it up.
Heat flooded her cheeks. Last night, he’d worn a simple gray henley, the sleeves pushed up to his forearms. When he’d reached across the table for the wine, she’d watched the muscle in his arm shift and had felt a jolt so visceral she’d nearly dropped her fork. He’d caught her. He always caught her. SexMex 24 10 11 Nicole Zurich Step-Siblings Mee...
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered.
At first, it had been stiff and polite. Nicole, an artist, saw Zurich as a jock—all lacrosse and easy, cocky smiles. Zurich saw Nicole as a moody, unattainable ice queen. But over the months, the stiffness had melted into a sharp, wired tension. They’d become experts at not-touching: handing the salt shaker without brushing fingers, sitting on opposite ends of the couch with a pillow barrier that felt more symbolic than effective.
“So,” he said, thumb tracing her cheekbone. “What do we do now?” “Liar
They’d been step-siblings for three years. Their parents, married after whirlwind romances following各自的 divorces, were currently on a “second honeymoon” in Santorini, leaving the two of them alone for two full weeks. Two weeks in the house where they’d first been introduced as a “new family.”
“The worst,” he agreed, his voice a low rasp. “Our parents are in love. We share a last name on legal documents. If this blows up, it blows up everything .”
Zurich didn’t flinch. “You’re not reading.” But rationality had left the building the moment
“Tell me to stop,” he said, his face inches from hers. His hand came up, trembling slightly, and his fingertips brushed a strand of damp hair from her cheek. “Tell me you don’t feel it, and I’ll walk away. We’ll go back to polite. We’ll pretend.”
“So why are you closer than you were ten seconds ago?”
Tonight, the air was thick with it.
She finally lifted her gaze. His eyes, the color of a winter sky, were fixed on her with an intensity that made her stomach drop. “Maybe I’m just appreciating the quiet.”
His use of her nickname, the one only he used, undid something in her chest. “This is a bad idea,” she breathed.