Selena stiffened but didn’t look at me. “What are you doing here?”
“Eating. I hate eating alone,” I said.
She shrugged, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You weren’t alone, were you? Won’t your fan club be disappointed that you’ve abandoned them?”
I laughed; I couldn’t help it.
“Retract your claws.” I took her chin in my fingers and tilted her face toward mine, finally meeting her eyes. “There’s enough of me to go around,” I teased her.
She narrowed her eyes, and her full lips thinned to a line. I’d pissed her off, just like I’d meant to. Why the hell arguing with her was such a turn-on was a question for a future therapist. Right now, I just wanted to enjoy it.
“Bellend,” she started.
“Yes, heathen?”
“It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Now let go of my face before everyone gets the wrong idea.”
“What would the wrong idea be?” I drawled.
Her cheeks were turning pink, and I wanted to trace over that heated skin with my lips. Great, now I was fucking hard right here in the uni cafeteria. The least sexy place in the world.
“You know.” She rolled her eyes. “That we’re…”
“Fucking? More than just friends?”
“We aren’t friends,” Selena scoffed immediately.
I nodded. “No, we’re not. We’re much more than that. Should we show them all exactly what?”
Selena’s eyes widened. “Brody, get a fucking grip and let go of me. It’s not funny. What would your dad think?”
The reminder of my father was a buzzkill, and she knew it. Yes, my father would disapprove strongly. However, Selena had no idea that I was working toward a future where she was no longer my stepsister.
Once that unwanted bond was severed forever, nothing would stand between me and what I wanted.Her.
“And you tell me I’m the controlling one, sweetheart. I thought you didn’t give a fuck what John thinks?” I murmured but let go of her face. I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Joking around was fine, but if anything beyond that upset her, it would have to wait until I could make my father see sense about his marriage. As soon as that was done and dusted, there’d be no reason to hide anything.
Soon. Very soon.
Later, my management class dragged on. Honestly, most of what they taught in the theoretical classes as HHU was pretty basic. Nothing you couldn’t learn by actually working, but then not everyone had the luxury of getting hands-on experience ata Fortune 500 company to learn the hard way. Sure, I was a privileged arsehole, but at least I knew it. I doubted that would get any sympathy points from Selena, though.
Christ, I’d never met a woman more determined to ignore and avoid association with me. I chased, she withdrew. It was our dance, and over the past week, I was growing tired of staying away.
I wanted to drag her onto my lap in the cafeteria and have her wear my jersey at my games. I wanted to walk campus with my arm around her shoulders and put a ring that I’d picked out for her on her finger. Something flashy and unique.
Basically, I wanted to stamp my ownership of Selena Carmichael across her forehead where everyone could see.
Those were the public impulses I had for this woman. The private ones haunted my thoughts, distracting me. I wanted to fuck her in every single room of the house. I wanted to christen every single surface in the gym, the pool, the sauna. I wanted to slide into her bed every single night when the rest of the house was quiet and press inside her, waking her with my cock sinking home. Most of all, I just wanted to be inside her again.
I’d really been missing out. When I’d fucked her the other night, I’d felt like a goddamn virgin. The connection that had hummed to life in the dark that night was the most real thing I’d ever felt. It was electric. It was comfort. My life no longer felt mundane, because she existed in the world.
I had no fucking clue what to do with these new feelings, except to pour my energy into untangling our familial connection.
Once my father and Marjory were done, nothing could stand in my way.
With that in mind, I left the management class, avoiding the overly helpful TA’s eye, and pulled my phone from my pocket. It was a testament to how complicated my life had become since moving to Hade Harbor that I had my PI on speed dial.
“Mike, correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m paying you more than most people’s mortgages to find something on Marjory Carmichael.”
