After she left, I sat there for a long time, her warning echoing in my head.
She was right. This was dangerous. Reckless. The kind of stupid that got people killed.
I should stay away from him. Should stop this before it went any further.
I made myself a list of reasons why:
One: He's my future stepson. That's sick and wrong on multiple levels.
Two: His father will literally murder us both if he finds out.
Three: Lia could get hurt. Mrs. Rossi could get hurt. Everyone I care about could suffer because I can't control myself.
Four: This is insane. Completely, utterly insane.
Five: I'm falling for him and that's the most dangerous thing of all.
I kept on making more list through out the day and night, the night were worst, I couldn't sleep. The nightmares were worse than usual—Papa's burned face morphing into Kai's, Mama's voice telling me I was making a mistake, Salvatore's cold eyes watching from shadows.
I woke up gasping, my heart racing, sheets tangled around my legs.
Two in the morning. Perfect.
I lay there for a while, trying to calm down. Trying to fall back asleep. Failing miserably.
Finally, I gave up. Pulled on my robe over my sleep shorts and tank top and headed downstairs for water. Maybe some warm milk. Anything to quiet my racing thoughts.
The kitchen light was already on.
I stopped in the doorway, my brain short-circuiting. Kai was there, leaning against the counter, shirtless, drinking coffee like it was a normal hour for caffeine.
He was... god. He was gorgeous in a way that should be illegal.
Broad shoulders that tapered to a lean waist. Defined abs that proved he spent hours in the gym. That trail of dark hair that disappeared into his sweatpants. Scars scattered across his ribs and chest—evidence of a violent life. Muscles that flexed as he raised his coffee cup to his lips.
My mouth went dry. Heat pooled low in my stomach.
I wanted to run my hands across those abs. Wanted to trace those scars with my tongue. Wanted to find out if his skin was as warm as it looked. Wanted to—
Stop. Stop being a hormonal mess.
Except he was looking at me now, and a slow, knowing smile spread across his face.
"You're staring."
My face went nuclear. "I'm not—"
"You are. And you're having some very interesting thoughts based on that expression." He set down his coffee cup, his smile turning wicked. "Want to share? I'd love to hear all your dirty, sexual thoughts about me."
"I'm not having dirty thoughts—"
"Liar." He pushed off the counter, started walking toward me. "Your face gives you away, Aria. You're an open book. And right now, that book is definitely rated R."
I backed up instinctively. "I just came down for water. I had nightmares about—about my parents. I couldn't sleep."
My voice stuttered over the words. Especially as he kept getting closer, crowding me against the doorframe.
"Nightmares." His voice was soft now. Gentle. The teasing gone. "You have them often?"
