Kissing My Enemy, Breaking His Brother

I spent weeks planning this trip. Every detail carefully arranged for one purpose: to confess my feelings to Arthur—Julian's older brother, the boy I'd been secretly in love with since childhood. But he showed up with a girlfriend. That night, drunk and reckless, I did the most absurd thing—I kissed Julian. The troublemaker who'd been my nemesis since we were kids, the one I swore I'd never give the time of day. But what happened next was even more absurd. This winter every time he came close, my heart raced out of control. I started noticing the curve of his smile, the undisguised heat in his eyes when he looked at me. Those habits that used to drive me crazy now made my heart flutter. My feelings for him became dangerous, complicated—like a storm I couldn't escape. "Eleanor, are you avoiding me?" He blocked my path. He suddenly pressed my wrist, trapping me between the wall and his body, his teeth grazing my earlobe as he whispered, "You finally see me..." Just when I thought everything had settled, Arthur began closing in. He suddenly acknowledged my existence, his gaze burning with intensity, as if the moment I let go was when he truly saw me. "Eleanor, we need to talk." Arthur stopped me. I tried to escape in panic, but Julian wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, pulling me tightly against him. His arms were firm as iron, his lips brushing my hair as his voice dropped low and dangerous: "She's mine, Arthur. You're too late."