Mated To My Obsessive Stepbrother

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Kasmine, why don't you talk to your brother? Tell him how much I like him," Claire was at it again.

It was lunchtime, and we sat in the cafeteria together, including Jake. I hoped Kester wouldn't get angry over this because I wasn't alone with Jake. In fact, he should feel much better that it was all three of us, which would further prove to him that there was nothing going on between me and Jake.

"I've told you before," I said, stabbing my fork into my food with unnecessary force. "My brother and I are sworn enemies at the moment. I can't help you, Claire. Sorry."

Claire gave a theatrical sigh.

"You haven't been eating, Mine. Is everything okay?" Jake asked.

I froze, the concern in his voice startling me. Was it that obvious? My hand

hovered over my plate as I fumbled for a response.

"I'm fine," I lied smoothly-or tried to. "I just..." My breath hitched, betraying me, so

I added, “I miss my mum. I wish I could see her soon."

Another lie. It tasted like ash on my tongue, bitter and unspeakable.

How could I tell them the truth? How could I let them know that my brother, the man who everyone else seemed to see as perfect, had become the source of my nightmares?

That he'd been acting in ways that hinted at... No. I needed to stop having such ridiculous thoughts. Kester was my brother. My brother. He couldn't possibly harbor those kinds of feelings for me.

But I wouldn't blame myself for thinking it. Not when he grabbed me the way he did, touched me, stared at me-spoke to me-in ways that made my skin crawl and my mind spiral.

But maybe that's just how Kester was. Intense. Controlling. Overwhelming.

"You've drifted off again," Jake said softly, breaking through my haze and pulling my attention back to him.

"Why did you accept the internship at my brother's company?" I asked, going straight to the point.

I hadn't had the opportunity to ask him yet. I needed answers.

"Mine..." Jake leaned forward, reaching for my hand, but I pulled back quickly, fear thrumming through my veins. What if Kester saw us? What if someone told him?

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a choice. My original internship let

tell me?"

on the phone?"

the sting. "We spoke the day before you arrived. You could've mentioned it then!" I shot back, frustration coloring my

now. "That was the first time we'd spoken in two weeks, and we couldn't even finish the conversation. What was

getting upset. Did he just try to yell at me? I was about to reply to him in the same measure, but before I could, Claire chimed in,

do anything you want. Just talk to him for me. Please?" She clasped her hands together in an exaggerated plea, setting her face in a playful frown, which

you know it. You're setting yourself up for heartbreak." I reminded her. She was going into something that

declared with a dreamy smile. "Once I get my chance, he'll see reason. He'll realize I'm the obvious choice over

in this douchebag?" Jake finally spoke up, his voice dripping with

as if personally offended. "Are you blind, Jake? His ripped abs, those tanned muscles, that sharp jawline-" She trailed off, her eyes glinting with a faraway look. "Have

strong, powerful hands. It makes me wonder what they could do to a woman when he's alone with her, in the right setting..." She giggled,

ones that had grabbed my neck more times

bed," Claire added with a wicked grin, the final nail in

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it, Claire!" I scolded, "He is my brother! You shouldn't be saying such things about him

a joke. "But if you don't help me,

bitterly. "That'll probably work better

***

a long day, and I hated the

to be my favorite day of the week-the day for movies, spontaneous visits to Claire's, shopping, and laughter.

sneak off to see Jake when I was still at the pack house, and we'd spend time together. That's how we fell for each other.

in his house while his usual, controlling self has

This wasn't the plan.

of the safe, silent bubble of my room. I had promised myself I wouldn't let

alive to make

to eat. I would have made Cacio e p**e, my favorite pasta, but I'd be damned

He'd have crawled out from wherever he was at

for something simple, something quick. Scrambled eggs. Toast. Easy. Efficient. No chance for him to catch me alone in the kitchen, no opportunity for him to slink in and

even realized it, it

to pour myself a glass of water, the hair on the back of my neck prickled-a

Slowly, as if drawn by some unseen force, I turned toward the doorway. And

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