Page 16 of Chasing After You (Twisted Desires #3)

Dorian

It was Wednesday before I knew it, and after impatiently counting down the hours, it was finally time for our date.

Well, he probably didn’t consider it a date, but that was fine. He was already uncomfortable with my presence, so I didn’t need to make it any worse by revealing my true intentions.

Intentions that included seducing my brother.

With all the stepbrother romances on the market these days, I had to wonder if he had ever read any and asked himself what it would be like to be in one. Doubtful. Josh wasn’t exactly the romantic fiction type.

I arrived just as Josh was locking the doors to his coffee shop. He turned his head at the sound of my footsteps, a bright smile lighting up his face as he saw me walking towards him.

“Hey!” he called out, turning back to the door for a second to tug on the handle, checking that it’d been locked.

“Hey,” I replied, softer than his greeting but no less intense.

My gaze swept over him slowly, shamelessly drinking up the details of him—the way his jeans hugged his hips, the mouthwatering swell of his biceps under the sleeves of his fitted tee, the warm, casual glow of his skin.

He was flushed from a long day on his feet, his hair a little messy, like he’d run his hands through it in frustration a dozen times.

It was perfect. Delicious.

He turned back around just as I was reaching him. “Sorry,” he said with a breathy laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Got caught up with some extra cleaning. I always feel weird leaving the place too fast, like I’m forgetting something.”

“That’s one of the things I always liked about you,” I said smoothly, letting my eyes linger on his. “You care about everything you touch.”

Josh’s expression faltered slightly. He looked down, cheeks turning the faintest pink, then cleared his throat and started walking toward the sidewalk. “So, uh… You wanted to hang out. Did you have something in mind?”

“Nothing too complicated,” I said, falling into step beside him. “There’s a place a few blocks away that stays open late. Rooftop patio. Burgers. I thought you might like it.”

He arched a brow, amused. “Since when do you go out for burgers?”

“Since I found out my brother likes them,” I replied, gaze flicking toward him to catch the subtle twitch of his lips.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re seriously laying it on thick.”

“I’ve waited eight years to see you again. I’m not going to pretend I don’t want to make an impression.”

Josh’s steps faltered slightly. He looked at me sideways, his hand raising to tug at his earlobe nervously. “You already made an impression. With the whole watching me sleep from the street thing.”

“Touché,” I murmured. “But I meant a different kind.”

We walked in silence for a bit. I let it linger, let him stew in it, hoping he’d look at me. He didn’t. His eyes stayed ahead, fixed on the sidewalk, like he couldn’t risk meeting mine too often.

The rooftop bar was pretty quiet when we arrived—soft music playing, a few scattered tables occupied by couples and groups, with ambient fairy lights strung overhead. I let Josh choose where we sat. He picked a small table near the corner of the patio, away from the rest.

“I don’t drink much,” he warned as I ordered us both something mild, nothing that would dull his senses too much.

He fiddled with the hem of his shirt as I spoke with the bartender.

It was heady when he submitted to me in these small ways.

I loved the juxtaposition between his large, muscular frame and his gentle personality.

“I know,” I said as I carried our drinks over to the table he’d chosen.

He laughed, reluctantly, following behind me. “God. Just how much do you know about me?”

“Never enough.” I leaned forward, resting my arms on the table.

His smile dimmed. His eyes dropped to the condensation on his glass. “Dorian…”

I tilted my head, waiting.

“You’re… a lot.”

“I am,” I agreed without apology.

He finally looked at me. His gaze flicked from my mouth to my eyes, then away again, as though catching himself. “You’ve grown up well,” he mumbled under his breath, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

I blinked slowly, a sexy smirk forming. “Say that again,” I coaxed.

“No.”

“Please?”

He groaned, covering his face with one hand. “You are so annoying. ”

I grinned. “So you do think I’m attractive.”

Josh looked like he was about to launch himself off the roof. “I didn’t say that.”

“You literally just did.”

He slumped in his chair. “This is why people don’t hang out with their long-lost siblings who show up out of nowhere and stalk them.”

“Because we’re too sexy?” I offered.

He tossed a napkin at me.

I caught it, still grinning like a maniac. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

He tried to glare at me, but it didn’t land. Not when his lips were twitching like that. “Are you always like this?”

“Only with you,” I said, my voice quieter this time. “You bring it out of me. And I’m pleasantly surprised that you didn’t refute the adorable comment.”

He groaned, avoiding my gaze again. He toyed with his straw, staring into his drink. “This is weird. You know it is.”

“I know,” I said gently. “But is it bad?”

He didn’t answer right away, but turned his eyes up to look at me. He studied my face like he was trying to memorize it all over again. His eyes softened at the edges, like he didn’t want to say no. Like a part of him had always wanted this.

“It’s not… bad ,” he said finally. “It’s just… confusing.”

That was good enough for now. Confusion meant he was thinking about it.

I could work with confusion.

“It’s just so weird,” he continued. “You were—what, fourteen, right? When we last saw each other. And now you’re all,” he waved his hand towards me, “adult.”

“That does generally happen to a person over the course of eight years,” I chuckled.

“Shut up.” After taking a sip of his drink, he asked, “So… I know this isn’t a fun topic, but you uh… you didn’t really mention Victoria last time… and uh… well, how is she? Do you live with her still?”

“I made her suffer, if that’s what you’re asking,” I said bluntly, carefully keeping tabs on his expressions.

Josh cringed. “Is she…?” He looked around to make sure no one was listening in. “Dead?”

I shook my head. “No. She’s a long-term patient of a substance abuse treatment center in Tampa. I’m paying top dollar for it. It’s a pretty nice place, she just isn’t allowed to leave.”

“Substance abuse? She liked her wine back then, but not like that. Was it because of Daniel’s death?”

I smiled grimly. “No, she hardly cared about that. At most, she was happy that he was gone, plus you left, so two birds, one stone.”

He frowned, taking another sip. “So, what was it then?”

“I… cultivated her addiction, I guess you could put it, slowly over the years. Eventually, she was so fucked up that I was able to get a conservatorship over her. Scrubbed my hands of her by admitting her to the rehab. It’s one of those luxury ones, which is more than she deserves, but it helps with playing the part of the devoted son caring for his sick mother. ”

Josh was very still as I finished explaining, the rim of his glass hovering just beneath his lips. He didn’t blink for several seconds. I could almost hear the gears grinding behind his eyes.

“…You cultivated her addiction?” he finally said, sounding incredulous.

I didn’t flinch. “Yes.”

“That’s…” He trailed off, eyes darting to the side before returning to mine. “That’s horrible, Dorian.”

I gave a languid shrug. “She was horrible. I just recycled it back to her.”

He stared at me, the glass finally lowering to the table. “You’re not joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” I asked softly.

He didn’t answer.

I leaned forward just a touch. “Would you rather I’d killed her?”

“ No! ” His voice was louder than intended, drawing a glance from an occupied table behind us. He winced, visibly shrinking in his seat. “No,” he repeated under his breath. “That’s not… that’s not what I meant.”

I sat back, giving him space. “I didn’t kill her. She’s alive. Fed. Medicated. Lounging on daybeds and complaining to staff about the flavor of her smoothies. And she can’t hurt anyone else anymore. That doesn’t sound that horrible, does it?”

Josh rubbed his temple with one hand. “God… You really meant it when you said you changed.”

“You don’t survive in a house like ours without changing,” I replied coolly. “You just had the decency to change into someone gentle, someone people could love easily.”

He gave me a wary look. “And you think people can’t love you?”

“I think people can’t understand me,” I answered with a small smile. “But I don’t mind. I’m not really interested in people. Just you.”

Josh flushed immediately, the color rising into his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Dorian…”

“I told you,” I murmured, lowering my voice just enough to keep it between us. “I’m not here to play pretend. You mean something to me that no one else does.”

“You can’t say things like that,” he whispered urgently. “We’re—we’re brothers. Even if it’s not by blood, it’s—”

“You’re not disgusted, though,” I interrupted, watching his pupils dilate. “You’re scared. That’s not the same.”

“I’m not attracted to you.”

“I didn’t ask,” I replied smoothly, eyes half-lidded as they took in his flinch at my response. “But you’re more than welcome to continue trying to convince yourself of that.”

He went quiet again, hands curled tightly around his drink. I could tell he was fighting it—fighting me —but he wasn’t leaving. He wasn’t storming off or throwing his drink in my face. He was still here, in front of me, cheeks tinged red, breathing just a little too fast.

I reached out slowly, my fingers brushing against his on the edge of the table. He didn’t jerk away. Not right away, anyway.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Josh,” I said honestly. “If you ever really want me to stop, I will. But you need to say it with conviction.”