Page 39 of River & Rue

My pulse kicks as he drapes the flower crown on his doorknob, then pivots fluidly in my direction. Miraculously, my gaze stays above his neck as he takes a languid step toward me, then another step, and another, until he’s close enough for me to feel the heat coming off his body.

Inscrutable, half-lidded eyes track over my face like they’re cataloging every freckle and flaw. The urge to back up a step or five presses on me, but I’m too stubborn—or maybe too reckless—to move.

I try not to think about his transparent pants or the space between our hips. I try to ignore how good he smells, like sugary citrus and warm forests. And I really, really try not to think about the fangs behind his sinfully shaped lips.

I might as well try to stop a tidal wave with a net.

Between one heartbeat and the next, I’m flooded with the poison of his proximity. There’s a hard tug beneath my navel and a dropping sensation along my centerline. My nipples tighten. My pulse throbs between my thighs.

Thankfully, I have nine years of practice compartmentalizing his effect on my hormones.

“What is it with you and personal space?”

He glances down, then back up. His brows pinch in an almost-frown. “I’m at least two feet away from you.”

“So? Your lungs are twice the size of mine.”

His mask cracks a little more, confusion shining through. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Oxygen, dude. You’re taking it all.” When I hear the words out loud, I want to slap myself. I blurt, “I’m claustrophobic.”

Something flashes in his eyes, but it’s gone too fast to make sense of it. He shakes his head.

“Why does talking to you always feel like running on quicksand?”

Another, even sharper pang in my chest has me adding heartburn to my list of probable ailments, rounding out heatstroke, pheromone-induced amnesia, and carbon dioxide overdose.

I shrug a shoulder. “Sounds like a you problem.”

Fully scowling now, he crosses his arms over his chest. I barely notice the veins in his forearms or how the position highlights his thick biceps. The excess saliva in my mouth is completely unrelated.

I arch my brows. “I won’t repeat what you tell me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Yeah, right. Like you’d keep a secret from Ivy.”

I only hesitate a second. “I would. Besides, we both know it’s only a matter of time before she extracts the truth from you herself. No one can withstand her interrogations.”

A ghost of a smile flits across his face. “True.” He sighs, his gaze drifting off the porch. “Why are you asking then? Why pretend you care?”

I’m so taken aback, the truth slips out.

“Of course I care.”

His eyes snap back to mine, simmering with new intensity.

I stammer, “Because—duh. You’re my best friend’s brother. You’re basically… you know.”

The slow curl of his lips is too sinister to be mistaken for a smile. It’s part snarl, part smirk. A smarl. Snirk?

Shit.

I’m breathing way too fast.

Like it’s feeding on my panic, River’s not-a-smile grows.

“Go on. I’m basically what? A sibling?”

I scoff extra-emphatically, then do it again for good measure. “If we were related, I’d put myself up for adoption.”