That’s why, when Blake started dating my sister, Tessa, I completely lost it. Blake and I literally rolled around on her front lawn, exchanging blows.
So, as intrigued as I’d been about Faith, I told myself I’d never ever act on anything.
Famous last words. The second she started showing up in person, my logic died on the cross-examination of her beauty and all her enchanting mannerisms.
Like the time she’d laughed at something Tessa said, head thrown back, and I’d watched the column of her throat like a man possessed. Or the first time I noticed the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous. How she held her drink with both hands, like she needed something to anchor herself.
I’d forced myself to look away every time.
But one night, she’d caught me staring, and instead of looking away, she’d held my gaze. Five seconds that felt like forever. Her lips had curved before she finally broke eye contact.
After that, I couldn’t stop cataloging details. The way she sipped wine slowly, like she was punishing herself for something. How she’d go quiet when the conversation turned to families, her fingers tightening around whatever she was holding. The night at the mansion when we’d both noticed Blake doing his weirdsuperstitious thing with his poker chips at the exact same moment, and our eyes had met across the table. We’d barely held back our laughter, and for the rest of the night, we kept catching each other’s eye, sharing this silent running commentary no one else was in on. Like we had our own language.
That’s when I knew I was in trouble.
And the more she’d started coming around our friend group, the more my intrigue heightened to levels I could barely contain.
I tried to fight it. God knows, I tried. But Faith was unlike anyone I’d ever met. Something about her pulled at me, made me want to unravel every word that came out of her mouth, decode every sharp look she threw my way.
She was a walking contradiction, all light banter and razor-sharp wit on the surface, but I sensed something heavier underneath. A weight she carried, no doubt from whatever hell she’d survived.
And then there were those other moments.
Like the night I found her standing in front of Blake’s building at midnight, staring at the sky. She hadn’t heard me come outside, leaving after another get-together. For once, her mask seemed completely gone, and the raw devastation on her face had gutted me. Failing to locate the source of her distress, I wondered how many times in her childhood she’d stared up at the stars, perhaps to remind herself she was part of something bigger than herself. In any case, seeing her like that … I’d almost turned around, given her privacy. But then she’d looked over, and instead of the walls slamming back into place, she’d just … let me see her.
We’d stood in silence for twenty minutes. I didn’t ask what was wrong. She didn’t explain. But when she finally turned to go back inside, she’d squeezed my shoulder in passing, like she’d appreciated the silent time with me.
I’d replayed that touch for days.
It wasn’t long after that, that she almost broke that douchebag’s fingers. The day everything between us shifted from possibility to inevitability.
“HELLO? EARTH TO RYKER.” Blake’s voice yanked me back to the present, to the poker table, to my friends staring at me like I’d grown a second head.
“Did you just blue-screen on us? Should I try turning you off and on again?” Axel smirked.
“You still with us, man?” Jace asked, exchanging glances with the others.
I blinked, realizing I’d been holding the same cards for God knows how long, completely lost in memories of Faith.
Shit.
“Yeah.” I forced my attention back to the game. “Just thinking.”
“Ten bucks says he’s having a whole montage moment,” Axel said. “Complete with sappy background music.”
“Thinking about what?” Blake wondered aloud.
“Your sister.” Axel smirked.
If Blake only knew.
If only he knew that I could still taste her after what happened in Axel’s elevator. That little gasp she’d made when I first touched her. The way her fingers had fisted in my shirt, like she was trying to pull me closer and push me away at the same time.
If only he knew what happened at his wedding. How her nails had left moon-shaped marks on my shoulders. How she’d whispered my name between breaths.
I’d tried to convince myself it was all just physical. Just chemistry. Just two people who couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
But then there were the other moments. The ones that terrified me more than any courtroom ever had.
