WINTER
There’s never been any love lost between my dad and my stepbrother—that's old news to me. But the venom in his voice now makes me question what goes on between them. My dad may have his faults, but he wouldn’t betray Jenny—he cherishes her too deeply.
It's been so long since our paths crossed, but still, there's no doubt he recognizes me. After all, who else would be bustling around his kitchen? Despite this, I convince myself he's deliberately trying to stir up trouble. Gathering my belongings, I prepare to depart, choosing to sidestep any potential conflict.
Unfortunately, he has other plans. His breath brushes against my neck, followed by the warmth of his body pressing against my back.
"You're here for the wrong man. I can fix that," he slurs, the smell of alcohol enveloping me. It's a stark reminder that he might not be fully aware of his actions right now.
His gentle breath against my neck sends a rush of tingles through my body, betraying my resolve. I only realize he's smelling me when he exhales heavily, the familiar smell of alcohol swirling around us once more. I attempt to turn away, but his hands slam onto the counter, trapping me.
"Look at me," he commands, his voice insistent.
"Let me go, Zion," I plead, attempting to break free.
If he's taken aback to discover me here, he masks it well. Instead, his gaze holds an unsettling intensity as he scrutinizes my face, his eyes lingering on my lips with a hunger that sends a chill down my spine. My stomach coils with unease, instinctively understanding the undercurrents of his intentions.
A fleeting expression flickers across his face, too brief for me to decipher. He pushes away from the counter, creating a distance between us without a word. As he reaches the door, he glances back over his shoulder, his eyes lingering over my form with a warning that leaves me unsettled and perplexed.
Once he's gone from view, I slump against the counter, bewildered by the encounter. What just happened?
After arranging half of the rocky road on a tray in the fridge, I abandon the idea of sitting outside. Instead, I retreat to my room with my sweet stash. Despite the clutter that surrounds me there, unlike the pristine order of the rest of the house, I find solace in the familiar chaos.
Since our parents introduced Zion and me, our relationship has been distant at best. He mostly keeps to himself, and I've followed suit, making it easy to avoid any interaction. When I'm around, he's often elsewhere, and when he's home, his moodiness and arrogance keep me at a distance. It's a shame because, despite his flaws, he's undeniably handsome.
Over the years, he's only grown more attractive. I'm not sure if it's his job or if he hits the gym regularly, but his physique is impressively toned from head to toe.
Jenny spends most of her days apologizing for his behaviour, often mentioning that he's dealing with a lot. So far, I haven't figured out what exactly that entails. From what I observe, he appears to be your typical twenty-something guy who prefers partying or being with women over spending time at home with his parents.
By the time I finish scraping the bottom of the bowl, I feel nauseous. There's still no sign of my dad or Jenny, but the booming music from Zion's room down the hill indicates his current mood.