The beach house was nothing short of stunning, with its crisp white walls and massive glass windows that reached from the floor to the ceiling—definitely the sort of place you'd see in a glossy magazine. It carried a subtle scent of fresh paint and the ocean breeze, akin to a life my mom was eager to dive into.
Yet, it felt overly spacious, almost too spotless. It was all too strange.
Mom was flitting about like she'd just hit the jackpot, humming to herself as she set the table, her cheeks a rosy hue. Ever since I walked in, her smile hadn't faded. I longed to capture just a bit of her exuberance, but mine had disappeared the instant I spotted him at the door.
Stepbrother.
That term hung in my mind, a bitter taste.
I sat rigidly at the kitchen table. My suitcase still lingered by the stairs, but Mom had urged me to "sit down and relax." It was hard to relax with him leaning in the doorway, watching me with a brooding intensity that made my heart squeeze uncomfortably.
He hadn't said a single word since Mom's enthusiastic introduction. Instead, he lit another cigarette and let the silence smother me.
Mom, naturally, was oblivious.
"Isn't this fantastic?" she exclaimed, sliding a bowl of salad onto the table as if we were in a commercial for the perfect family. "One big happy family all under one roof. Finally."
I bit down on my inner cheek. One big happy family? Really?
Her new husband, his dad, was still absent. "Business trip," she'd said, though her cheerful demeanour wavered at that. So here we were, just the three of us. For now.
And honestly, that was more than enough.
"Why don't you two get to know each other?" Mom suggested cheerily while pouring me a glass of water. "You're practically the same age. This could be fun!"
The word 'fun' nearly lodged in my throat.
Across from me, he pulled out a chair with a loud scrape against the tile, sinking into it with a casual slouch, cigarette still dangling between his fingers. Not a single glance in my direction.
Mom frowned, reaching for the cigarette. "No smoking at the table."
He let out a dark chuckle, snuffing it out against the bottom of his glass with a practised precision before shifting his gaze to me, sharp and teasing.
"So," he drawled, his voice low and tinged with boredom. "What's it like being yanked into someone else's life?"
The question hit me like a slap.
Mom was too focused on twirling pasta to notice, but his eyes were locked on mine, challenging me to respond.
I squared my shoulders. "What's it like being a jerk?"
The corner of his mouth flickered, a half-smirk that wasn't quite approval—more like I had unwittingly amused him.
Mom clapped her hands together, totally unaware. "See? Already bonding."
Bonding. If only she knew the truth.
Dinner dragged on in a heavy silence, broken only by Mom's small talk. He barely touched his food, merely spinning his fork and stealing glances at me now and then—as if I were a mystery he wasn't sure he wanted to unravel or destroy.
When Mom finally excused herself to take a phone call, the atmosphere shifted. The kitchen fell silent, with only the fridge humming and the distant waves crashing outside.
It was just him and me now.
His chair creaked as he leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, those stormy eyes fixed intently on mine.
"You shouldn't look at people the way you do," he murmured.
Heat flooded my cheeks. "I'm not staring."
"Yeah, you are." His gaze flicked to my mouth for a split second before returning to my eyes. "And you really need to cut it out."
My heart raced. "Or what?"
His smirk widened, slow and menacing. "Or you're gonna find yourself in a world of trouble."
Before I could respond, I heard Mom's footsteps approaching down the hall, and just like that, he leaned back, his expression wiped clean, as if nothing had transpired.
But my heart was still racing.
Deep down, I knew he was right. I was already in over my head.
____
When the house finally quieted down. Mom's bedroom door shutting for the night, I couldn't handle being cooped up another moment. So I slipped out of my room, my bare feet cool against the marble floor, and pushed open the glass doors leading to the pool.
Without a second thought, I stripped down to my underwear and slipped into the cool water, grateful for the refreshing embrace. As I dove beneath the surface, the soothing silence filled my ears, drowning out everything but the racing of my heartbeat.
When I resurfaced, slicking my hair back, I noticed I wasn't alone anymore. He stood at the pool's edge, shirtless, a towel draped over his shoulder, his dark, stormy eyes locked onto me as if he'd been observing the whole time.
My breath caught in my throat. "You're awfully quiet for someone sneaking around," he remarked, his voice low and laced with amusement.
I cleared my throat. "I wasn't sneaking."
"Right, sure." He crouched at the edge, the faint scent of smoke and cologne wafting towards me. The water cast reflections on his face, shadows dancing across his sharp cheekbones.
"Do you usually swim alone at this hour?" He asked.
"Not really, today's just been... odd." My voice came out quieter than I had planned.
His gaze lingered over me, slow and deliberate, before returning to my eyes. A flicker of something dark and intense passed between us.
I forced myself to glide to the other side of the pool, craving some distance. "What about you?" I asked.
"What brings you out here?" He smirked, leaning back on his hands.
"Can't sleep. I figured I'd check on my new stepsister." The word twisted painfully in my chest.
Step Sister. He said it like a reminder of boundaries I wasn't supposed to cross. Yet, the way he looked at me seemed to contradict that label entirely.
"You really shouldn't stare," I murmured, even as my heart raced.
"Maybe you shouldn't give me a reason to." His voice was low and rough, charged with tension.
The silence between us felt electric. The only sound was the water gently lapping against the tiles. I turned away, ducking my head under the water to shake off the effect of his gaze on my body.
But then, I heard it, a quiet splash behind me. I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat. He was sliding into the pool, water trickling down his impressive shoulders and sculpted chest, making my mouth water. The glow from the underwater lights highlighted his sculpted features, making him look almost unreal.
"What are you doing?" I managed, my voice tighter than I intended.
He smirked, pushing his dark hair back from his forehead."Swimming."
"In here?" I shot back, my throat dry. "At the same time as me?"
"Relax, princess. It's a big pool." His tone was nonchalant, but his steady dark eyes stayed focused on me.
I drifted back a little, trying to create space, but it wasn't enough. He moved with purpose, cutting through the water and closing the gap.
"You know," he said, his voice smooth over the stillness, "you're not very good at hiding."
I frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"
He swam closer, now so near that I could see drops of water clinging to his lashes and a smirk playing on his lips.
"You play the good girl act really well. But underneath…"
His gaze roamed over me, sending shivers across my skin, even in the cool water. "There's something else burning inside you. Something you keep hidden."
My chest tightened at his words—they hit too close to home. I hated that he saw me this way, like he'd uncovered my secrets without permission.
"You don't know me," I whispered.
"Not yet." His voice dropped lower, rougher. "But I will."
The air between us was thick with tension as he moved even closer, his hard chest brushing against mine. I was frozen, caught between shock and desire. His face hovered near mine, eyes stormy and unreadable, his lips dangerously close to temptation. I didn't move. I couldn't.
Then, just as quickly, he pulled back, pushing himself through the water with casual ease, leaving me trembling in the glow.
When he reached the steps, he climbed out, grabbing the towel from the chair. He didn't bother to dry off; he just slung it around his neck and looked back at me one last time.
"Goodnight, princess." His voice was smooth, edged with something sharp. "Try not to drown."
And then he disappeared into the house, leaving me floating in the silence, every breath shallow, every muscle aching with the knowledge of just how close he had been.