Page 18 of Devious Love

“Goodnight, Matthew.”

After he’s shut the door behind him, I sit, unmoving. Then, I reach for my phone and type out a quick message.

I think I’ve made my decision.

CHAPTER 5

when did this happen?

DOMINIC

Age 17

October

With a joint smolderingbetween my fingers, I stand in the backyard, my back pressed to the wall. It’s past midnight, and everyone is already asleep, even Matt. That fucker sleeps like a baby. The moment his head touches the pillow, his lights are out. I envy him on nights like this, when my brain refuses to shut up no matter what I do.

My talk with Dad replays in my mind, and I grit my teeth. I’m tired of having the same conversation with him. Since I was ten, he’s been dead set on me following in his footsteps and working with him at the car shop. Ever since I made it clear what I really want is to play football, he’s only tried harder to force my hand.

I eye the joint with a frown, then put it out without taking another drag. Fuck. I’m so out of my element. With a sigh, I head for the back door. I step into the kitchen, and the sound of muffled steps makes me pause. As quietly as possible, I close the door and creep over to the fridge. If it’s my dad or Monica, I can tell them I came down for a snack.

“Who’s there?” Mia whispers, halting in the entryway.

I chuckle, my shoulders relaxing. “Depends on who’s asking.”

“Fuck you,” she huffs. “You scared me.”

She’s so defiant. Matt calls her “little one,” but “little mayhem” suits her a thousand times better.

The light of the moon illuminates the kitchen in a cool, silvery glow, so I don’t need to turn the lights on to see her. Chin lifted, once again defiant, she plucks a glass from the cabinet and fills it with water. The whole time, her eyes stay on me.

I tilt my head. There’s something different about the way she looks at me right now. For so long, she’s been the kid tagging along behind Matt and me, but in this moment, she looks grown. Her gaze is focused. Intense, even.

She’s wearing a tiny pair of black shorts and a white tee with a drawing on the front, her jet-black hair pulled into a messy bun on top of her head. She’s petite, only a few inches over five feet, but with those curves, she could easily pass for a sophomore.

Fuck. When did this happen?

She’s four years younger than me.

She’s my best friend’s little sister.

She’s my stepsister, for fuck’s sake.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I peer down at my feet. Anything is better than noticing the way Mia looks, the way she’s started to change. I feel terrible for even thinking about her body.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“Came down for a snack.”

She snorts. “Yeah, of course. That’s why you smell like weed.”

“You got me.” I crack a smile, meeting her gaze again.

“You do know if you want to go pro, smoking won’t help, right?”

Hands stuffed into my pockets, I frown. “I know.”

“Then why are you doing it?”