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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Chapter 13

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"But I didn't have a choice. My original internship let me go, and no other

couldn't even tell me?" My

tell you when I can't even get you on the phone?" he fired back. "We hardly ever talk, Mine.

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

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

try to yell at me? I was about to reply to him in the same measure, but before I could, Claire chimed in, clearly

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 made

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

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

in this douchebag?" Jake finally

muscles, that sharp jawline-" She trailed off, her eyes glinting with a faraway

It makes me wonder what they could do to a woman when he's alone with her, in the right setting..." She giggled, oblivious to the heat that rushed to my

grabbed my neck

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

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Chapter 13

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

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

I muttered bitterly. "That'll probably

***

be a long day, and I hated the sinking, suffocating feeling that

favorite day of the week-the day for movies, spontaneous visits to Claire's, shopping, and laughter. It was my escape from the school stress. It was freedom until Jake came along and made those Saturdays even brighter,

at the pack house, and we'd spend time together. That's how we fell for each other. But

while his usual, controlling self has refused to let me

This wasn't the plan.

with an angry sigh, the sudden need for food gnawing at me, pulling me out of the safe, silent bubble of my room. I had promised myself I wouldn't let him see me, wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how much

to make good

the kitchen, trying to fix something quick to eat. I would have made Cacio e p**e, my favorite pasta,

so. He'd have crawled out from wherever

chance for him to catch me alone in the

I even realized it, it was done. Quicker

myself a glass of water, the hair on the back of my neck prickled-a subtle warning that I

my hand hovering above the counter. Slowly, as if drawn by some unseen force, I turned toward the

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