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LAURIE

I have a hard time recognizing the woman staring back at me when I stand in front of the mirror, holding up one of my dress choices and turning to see all the angles. I look more like my mother than I ever have before, but in the right light, I still look so much younger than I feel.

Twenty-five is such a milestone for most people, but my birthday passed three weeks ago with little fanfare—at least in my mind. My mom and her then-fiancé Craig threw a huge party for me, and I attended, plastering on a smile and pretending that everything was fantastic.

In reality, I’m feeling sort of lost right now, just like I was then. I’ve been staying with Mom in my childhood home, an enormous old-money estate, since a few weeks before my birthday party. It was time to change my life, but it still seemed wrong for that change to begin in the room I’d grown up in.

When I focus back on my reflection and the room around me, it shows a young woman still holding onto the echoes of her teenage years—soft pink walls, fairy lights dangling around the window like something out of a dream I don’t quite belong to anymore. A giant cork-board with magazine clippings about trendy outfits, cityscapes, and some tacky inspirational quotes still hangs above my desk.

Tonight, I’m determined to change all that, to step out of the shadow of the teenager I used to be and the college graduate who didn’t quite make it. I’ve just gotten back from New York, where my fashion dreams crumbled in front of my eyes, and if anything, this house—this space—is my chance to start afresh.

I drop the dress onto the bed and rub my hands over my face. There’s no room for the old version of me anymore, and it makes me feel a little guilty. Having this beautiful home, this welcoming place to fall back on, is a blessing that so many people my age would kill for. So why do I feel so off-kilter?

Maybe some time alone will help. It’s hard not to feel like a kid when Mom hovers around every corner. My mom and my brand new stepdad are leaving for a year-long trip tomorrow, and I’ll have the house all to myself. I should be feeling free, liberated even, but all I can think about is what a mess I’ve made of things. A job in fashion was supposed to be the start of something great, something that would define me, but instead, it just highlighted everything I wasn’t—good enough, bold enough, or savvy enough to make it in a city like New York. So, I came home. To this house. To Charleston. The last place I expected to be.

But feeling sorry for myself isn’t going to get me ready for the evening. I dig through my suitcase, pulling out a few dresses, each one more formal than the last. My mom and stepdad are hosting a dinner tonight, a little farewell get-together for all their friends before they leave.

It’s also when I'm supposed to meet Craig’s son, who has been too busy with work to make any single event they’ve held so far, wedding included. I’m supposed to look like I have my life together. Like the twenty-five-year-old adult who’s seen the world and is ready to tackle whatever comes next. I want to impress, even though I can’t shake the feeling that everyone will be watching me with pity and concern.

Finally, forcing myself to make a decision, I grab a deep blue satin dress, simple and elegant. Tonight, I’ll be Laurie Cartwright. Not the failed fashion designer, not the daughter who couldn’t quite live up to expectations. Just me. Ready for the next step—at least, that’s the story I’m going to tell when I step out of this room.

I glance at the clock. I have about an hour before I need to join everyone downstairs. I take a breath, then pull the dress over my head. It fits perfectly, hugging my curves just right, the deep blue color bringing out my intensely blue eyes and shimmering, frosty blond hair. I frown a little at my complexion—growing up in Charleston, I had always maintained a perfect tan, but New York had washed out more than just my motivation. I’m pale, but Charleston, with its humidity and endless sunshine, will fix that in no time.

There’s a sense of finality as I stand back and examine myself. No more childhood bedrooms. No more false starts.

Forty-five minutes later, with a fresh coat of makeup, I suck in a breath, push my shoulders back, and give myself a final nod of approval. "You’ve got this, Laurie," I say to no one, trying to convince myself. I turn, heels clicking softly on the floor as I head for the stairs.

The estate is enormous and old, but the good kind of old. Mom had put plenty of modern touches on the inside, but outside it looked just as classical as ever, with the perfectly manicured front lawn and huge pool in the back. Inside, all of the polished wood and brass fixtures are gleaming, and from the top of the stairs, I can see the tiny rainbows being cast from the crystal chandelier hanging above the main floor.

It’s all so familiar that it helps relax me some. This is my home, and I’m an adult, damn it. I don’t need to worry about what anyone thinks of me or my misguided career.

I take one step, and then another. I can hear the party in full swing, a cocktail hour before dinner, and I’m already imagining what sort of drink I’m going to have. This won’t be so bad. I’m a professional at these kinds of things.

Nothing can shake me, nothing can trip me up, until—oh, fuck. There’s no way in hell that’s him.

The broad-shouldered, trim-waisted man turns around slowly. Oh I remembered so well hating that way he holds himself. Standing across the room, looking impossibly out of place yet perfectly at ease, is Adam Lawson.

Adam Lawson, with whom I had my first and only one-night stand ever. Adam Lawson, whom I left high and dry afterwards.

My eyes lock onto him before I even register the shock that has my heart racing, my stomach twisting. He’s wearing a tailored navy suit, the kind that makes a man look like he belongs on the cover of GQ. Dark, messy hair just the way I remember it. I swear I can still feel his lips on mine, his hands pressing me closer, pulling me into him like he couldn’t get enough. That night, the one I can’t stop thinking about. The one we never spoke about again.

Hell, we never spoke again at all, let alone about the time we shared in bed. I made sure of it.

I freeze. He’s here. In my parents’ house. After a year of pretending that night never happened, here he is, staring at me like he hasn’t been living rent-free in my head for the last twelve months.

I don’t know what to do, so I just keep moving, keep moving. If I can get to the bottom of the stairs, I can flee out the back door before he gets to me. But I misstep, my heel catching on the edge of the last step.

And I almost fall.

I let out a quick gasp, panic surging through me as I lurch forward, arms flailing for balance. The world tilts. But just as I’m sure I’m about to eat shit in front of everyone, a small but surprisingly strong hand catches my arm, pulling me upright. I look over to see my mother, her familiar grin snapping me out of my panic.

“Careful there, sweetie. You’re not as young as you used to be,” she teases, steadying me.

I blink, still dazed from the shock of nearly falling and the impact of Adam’s presence in the room. “I’m fine, Mom, just—” I can feel her humor turning to concern, but my mind is still scrambled from what I just saw. “I’m fine,” I repeat, more firmly this time.

“You sure? Don’t want to make a scene before dinner, do we?” She’s still smiling, but it’s brittle.

“I’m good,” I promise her, giving her a grin that I hope is convincing. I’m the spitting image of my mom, except she’s two inches shorter and her bright blond hair has a few streaks of gray that she meticulously has covered at the salon. I start to step away, leaving her behind, desperate to know if I really saw Adam.

For a second, I can’t find him in the crowd. But then I catch sight of him, and I quickly avert my eyes, trying not to be too obvious. Of course, he’s staring right at me, and my efforts of trying to be discreet are pointless. His eyes, forest green and calculating, narrow slightly as if he can read my thoughts from across the room.

Trying not to do my best deer-in-the-headlights impression, I duck my head and try to fade back into the crowd. I know I can’t avoid him for the entire night, but I just need a damn second to catch my breath and collect my thoughts.

Unfortunately, my mother has other plans. Before I can bolt, I feel her hand on my elbow, Craig beside her. “Not so fast, sweetie. We need to introduce you to Adam!”

“I–wait, what?” My eyes snap back to Adam Lawson. “Why?”

Craig laughs. Tall with a lined but handsome face and salt-and-pepper hair, Craig has been good to my mother so far. He was also wealthy and from old money, so we knew he wasn’t trying to use her, but I could count on one hand how many times I’d spoken to the man. “We figured you’d want to meet your stepbrother finally.”

The words take a second to work into my brain, but when they hit, I feel my ankles starting to go weak, and it’s all I can do not to tip over in my heels. A wave of cold hits me, from my fingertips to my toes.

“Adam! Come over here!” My mother’s voice is warm and inviting, so strange considering I’m in a living nightmare right now.

Stepbrother , the word rings in my skull over and over, stepbrother, stepbrother.

Every fiber of me is aware of him, aware of that pull that’s still there, despite the time and distance. Despite the fact that I’ve done everything I can to forget the way he kissed me, the way he made me feel, and the way I vanished from his life.

And now he’s walking towards us. Any inkling of hope I had left that maybe there was another Adam nearby disappears.

I don't know how I’m supposed to act. I glance at Mom and Craig, who are both smiling like this is just a casual dinner party. Like my world isn’t going up in flames right now. Just act normal, I tell myself. Just act like you don’t know him. Like he’s some guy you’ve never slept with before.

But the second Adam steps closer, his presence hits me like a wave. His cologne—a mix of woodsy and citrus, comforting and dangerous—makes my heart race before my brain even catches up. His eyes meet mine briefly, and it’s as if everything around us fades into the background, leaving just the two of us standing in the quietest kind of silence.

"Laurie, darling, this is Adam, Craig's son,” my mom says, her voice too bright. I know she wants us to get along, but little does she know we’ve already gotten to know each other very, very well.

She doesn’t know how much I wish I could forget Adam Lawson.

I nod, forcing a smile. “Hello.” I try to keep my voice steady, like I’m not remembering every moment that Adam touched my body and made me cry out in pleasure.

Adam’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a flicker in his eyes—something that’s definitely not as chill as he’s pretending. The way he looks at me like he’s searching for something—answers, maybe. Or maybe he’s just as stunned as I am by the fact that we’re standing here, pretending to be strangers. I don’t know which of us is more unsettled by the fact that our past isn’t in the past.

I haven’t even begun to process the fact that he’s technically my stepbrother now. The idea is so insane that it makes me want to dissolve into hysterics.

“Nice to meet you, Laurie,” Adam says, his voice smooth, his gaze lingering on my mouth just a moment too long. His smile is tight, but his eyes...they give him away. God, no. He’s holding onto the secret between us, like there’s an unspoken understanding passing between us, one that only the two of us share.

I extend my hand, even though my body feels like it’s caught in a web of heat and tension. "Nice to meet you, too." I try to sound normal, like I’ve never thought about him every time I saw someone with dark hair or a sharp jawline or a laugh that could melt a room.

All hopes of normal fly out the window when his hand touches mine. The feeling of his skin, warm against mine, hits me with a flash of heat that has me aching between my legs, my nipples pebbling beneath the satin dress before I even realize what’s happening. I know he’s affected too by the way his pupils blow wide as he sucks in a shocked breath, taking a moment too long to let go of me.

He still wants me. Holy shit. Even after I ghosted him? Now he’s here in my house, not just because he’s some random acquaintance but because he’s my fucking stepbrother. That’s a line I can’t cross.

“Well, I’m going to go and mingle…” I try to make it sound lighthearted, like I’m not secretly devastated by the fact that Adam is completely off-limits now. I need some space away from him, and I need it now.

“Now wait just one moment, dear.” Mom grabs my elbow again. “I wanted to talk to you about the time I’m going to be gone. I know you’ve never really stayed in the house alone, so we figured since you’re family now, Adam can stay in the house with you!”

“Wait a m—” Adam sputters.

“Uh, what?” I snap, shock rolling through me. “No way! We, uh, just met!”

“Adam already agreed when I asked him last week,” Craig chimes in as if this were some brilliant stroke of genius. “It’s the best thing for you, Laurie. You know, with us being gone for so long and all. It’s a big house, I bet you won’t even run into each other all that often. Adam can keep an eye on things, make sure you’re okay.”

What in the hell is happening?

Adam, for his part, looks just as stunned as I feel. His mouth opens slightly, then shuts.

“But I can handle it,” I protest quickly, my voice shaky as I try to fight the rising panic inside me. “I don’t need someone to babysit me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

Mom shakes her head, blond bob flying. “Laurie, it’s for your safety.”

“Mom, please . I’ve lived on my own for years at this point.”

“This is the best option, sweetheart,” my mom says, her voice soft and understanding, but there’s no room for argument in her tone.

A million arguments form in my head, but they die in my throat before I can speak them. When Mom has made up her mind, there is no changing it, especially in the middle of a dinner party. I need to count my losses and maybe try again later.

Adam, who is still silent, clearly isn’t going to help us escape this personal hell. So I guess that leaves it up to me.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my shaking hands. “Okay,” I whisper, though it feels like the word is getting caught in my throat like I’m choking on it. “Okay.”

Adam doesn’t say anything. He just nods slowly, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable.

And in that moment, I realize that the next year is going to be nothing like what I expected.