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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didn't have a choice. My original internship let me go, and no other companies were willing to take me in. Zamfort was the only

me?" My anger bubbled to

on the phone?" he

didn't stop the sting. "We spoke the day before you arrived. You could've mentioned it then!" I

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

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, clearly bored with

her hands together in an exaggerated plea, setting her face in a playful frown, which made

and you know it. You're setting yourself up for heartbreak." I

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

see in this douchebag?" Jake finally spoke

tanned muscles, that sharp jawline-" She trailed off, her eyes glinting with a faraway look. "Have you seen his eyes? Selene above, they're the most gorgeous things I've ever seen. And

a woman when he's alone with her, in the right setting..." She giggled, oblivious to the heat that rushed to my

that had grabbed my neck more times than the breaths I've taken

a wicked grin, the final

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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 about him

as if the entire thing was a joke. "But if you don't

probably work

***

a long day, and I hated the

be my 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

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

alone with him in his house while his usual, controlling self has refused to let me go home

This wasn't the plan.

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 he hurt me. But starvation had

alive to

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

crawled out from wherever

chance for him to catch me alone in the

it was done.

as I turned to pour myself a glass of water, the hair on the back of my neck prickled-a subtle warning

if drawn by some unseen force, I

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