As if I wouldn’t notice her reluctance to be in the same room. I enter a room, she exits. I move through a room, she crosses to the other side. Cat and mouse.

In my own damn house.

Shit, now she has me rhyming.

This little game of hide and seek is driving me fucking nuts.

“Are you even listening?” An elbow meets my ribcage, jarring me momentarily. Finally nodding at something Dex is saying beside me, I turn towards Cal and rejoin their conversation.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

My sister’s boyfriend tracks my movement, looking over at his sister and then at me. He briefly pauses before responding. “I asked Dex if he was coming with you to my match against Purdue in two weeks. He said no.”

Dex pulls at the preppy bowtie around his throat. “Can’t. My sisters have a thing.”

He has sixteen-year-old twin sisters.

“High school musical opening night,” he explains. “Shouldn’t be too bad. This year they’re doing…”

Nodding absentmindedly, I stop listening to watch Tabitha out of the corner of my eye. She leans against the far wall of my living room, balancing a monster plate of chips and veggies while smiling at something my aunt Cindy and cousin Stella are saying. At that moment, her tongue darts out between cherry-red lips to lick the corner of her mouth.

My eyes are riveted.

“Alright, let’s cut the crap,” Cal’s deep voice interrupts, along with another quick jab to my ribcage. “What’s going on between you and my sister?”

“Nothing.”

He doesn’t mince words. “Bullshit. I’ve been watching you watch her try to get away from you all night.”

Strangely enough, I understand every word he just said. And since he brought it up, I might as well ask. “Yeah, what is up with that?”

I cross my arms over my chest resentfully, still staring at Tabitha.

“Okay, I get it now.” Cal tips back his beer and swallows hard. “No wonder she didn’t want to come.”

My head whips around. “What the hell does that mean?”

The bastard laughs drolly. “Grey had to practically force her.”

“Why?”

He shrugs his broad shoulders. “Because. I guess she’s still embarrassed about accusing Greyson of cheating on me with you or some shit. We had to pull out the big guns to get her here.”

For fuck’s sake. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means we had to fucking bribe her to come. We knew at some point you’d have to see each other again, and figured she might as well get it over with. Grey swore she’d come home for a girls’ night out with Tab’s friends. Oh—we also promised her she didn’t have to talk to you tonight.” He tenderly traces two fingers over his left eye, which is blackened by a fresh bruise and stitched up with black thread. “Still, we literally had to shove her into my truck. I felt like a goddamn kidnapper, minus a disturbing lurker van.”

Lovely.

But can I point something out? Two weeks ago she called me ridiculously good looking—not to mention, she was totally checking me out at Target. Damn straight she was. Which means she’s attracted to me.

Like I’m going to forget that little factoid anytime soon. Not a chance.

Cal taunts, “I mean—just look at her trying to avoid you and shit.”

He’s right. Tabitha skulks from the snack table to the bookshelf on the far wall of my living room, balancing her loaded plate in one hand and running the other along the wooden shelves. She trails the tips of her fingers across a leather-bound volume of Walt Whitman, then all the way over to a copy of Divergent.

She pops a chip in her mouth, chewing slowly, and stands rigidly, studying the contents of my collection—which isn’t that extensive. I’m not a big reader or anything, but I have a few good ones, most of them gifts from my mom, who’s always tried to get me to read more. And play Sudoku. Improve my “brain function,” like I have all the time in the world for word puzzles and shit.

Also propped on the bookshelf, dead center on the middle shelf not far from where Tabitha is lingering, is her novel, faced out and eye level. All she has to do is take three dainty steps to her left. Three tiny steps or one hundred and sixty degrees to her left, and she’d see it.

Right there, in front of her beautiful face.

I raise the beer bottle in my hand to my lips, sipping with a wide smirk when Tabitha turns her back to the books. Yup, I’m confident she doesn’t know I have her paperback proof. Her naughty, naughty little novel, all marked up with edits and comments.

I can hardly wait to finish reading the damn thing.

Then tell her about it.

Man, she is going to be pissed.

A sick part of me is disappointed, wanting her to turn back around and notice the book; it would force her to confront me. And yeah, it’s kind of a dick move to keep it and display it out in the open where anyone could see it, put two and two together—but what are the odds of that happening? Slim to none.

It must be important. And yes, I realize I have to eventually return it, but seriously, what fun would it be to just hand it over?

No. I’m going to make her work for it.

Does that make me a sick bastard, or what?

B lare could hardly believe she was seeing him again. She actually wanted to crawl under a rock and hide. Unfortunately for her, she was trapped in this condo with a group full of people, her ride home no closer to being ready to leave than she had been ten minutes earlier.

She turned, grasping for a fancy bookend she’d managed to knock loose. It fell to the ground with a heavy clang, and when she bent to pick it up, there he was, devouring her with his penetrating stare.

He was staring, watching her from across the room. How had he even ended up here, in this condo?

Wishing she had something to occupy her hands, Blare made a beeline for the food, his image filling her mind as she filled her plate. He was so painfully handsome she could barely stare at him for too long. Why couldn’t he have been a jerk at the store? She moved then, closer to the windows, looking down into the bustling city traffic, wishing she were anywhere but here… away from him.

Because he scared the shit out of her.

Why was she avoiding him? Because in a crazy, bizarre twist of fate, the good-looking stranger with the gorgeous, seductive eyes is her best friend’s step-brother and completely off-limits. Cheeks flaming hot, Blare plucked a wine glass off a nearby table, and chugged it….

Collin: I have something here that belongs to Tabitha. Can you give me her cell?

Greyson: You haven’t texted me in days, and now it’s only because you want my friend’s number?! Rude.

Collin: Please? I’ll go buy that ugly-ass shower curtain you picked out.

Greyson: Fine. Deal. But I’m not giving you her cell—she won’t want you having that. You can have her email address instead.

Collin: What the hell, Grey? Why not?

Greyson: She’s still embarrassed about what happened at Target.

Collin: So?

Greyson: loud sigh You just don’t understand women at all, do you…

Collin: That’s never been up for debate.

Greyson: Do you want her info or not?

Collin: Fine. Yes.

Greyson: I know you’re pouting, you big baby.

Greyson: Ready? Here it is…