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ADAM

I should have known that my night was about to be fucked as soon as I saw Laurie descend those stairs. I’m a perceptive man most of the time, but for some damn reason, whenever Laurie is around, my brain stops functioning correctly.

Seeing her here, unprepared, was bad enough. But then my fucking Dad and his new wife, Melanie, informed us that she wasn’t just an inconvenient attendee of the dinner party. She’s Melanie’s daughter.

My fucking stepsister.

Now I’m positive I’m in hell.

My words failed me completely at the news, but luckily Laurie kept her composure enough that Dad and Melanie didn’t catch on that we knew each other already. There wasn’t any real reprieve, though, because after the second bombshell that we’d be living together for a year, it was time for dinner. And of course, Laurie was seated directly across from me.

She’s beautiful, of course, looking every bit the woman I remembered—only more polished, more alluring. She’s wearing a dark blue dress that clings to her tits, hips, and ass so well that I have to force myself not to ogle her. Her hair is loosely waved, and she looks so effortlessly put together that it’s hard to believe we were both just given the biggest shock of our lives.

Then there’s the fact that no matter where we are, no matter what bullshit titles her mom and my dad put on us, everything in me wants to reach across the table, grab her wrist, pull her close, and kiss the hell out of her.

That knowledge is eating me alive.

But Laurie, it seems, is just fine. She gives me a polite, friendly smile as the staff sets our plates down, and she barely even stutters over her words as the conversation goes on.

As the main course gets served, Dad clears his throat.

"So, Laurie," he begins, and she stiffens. "Tell us, what's new?"

"Not much, I'm afraid," she admits. "I decided to take a break and move home."

Her eyes flick over to me, then back to my father, who's nodding as he cuts into his steak. "I remember hearing about that, of course. Your mother was a little sad, I think, about how it didn't work out. What happened, exactly? If you don't mind my asking."

"No, I don't mind. And, well, the truth is that the job market in the fashion industry is brutal, and I simply didn't make the cut."

At first, I'm impressed by her no-nonsense honesty, but when I consider her words again, I frown. Fashion industry? I’d already come to the conclusion that Laurie wasn’t a damn bartender like she told me in the past. So she works in fashion, huh? Looking at her, it makes perfect sense.

"Oh, no. What a shame," my father murmurs.

"That's all right. I'll find a way," Laurie says, lifting her glass in a toast.

"That's a positive way to look at things. Very impressive, young lady." Dad smiles and turns to his wife. "You've raised a strong woman here, Mel."

"Thank you, honey. Though she was always a headstrong little thing." She glances over at Laurie with a fond smile, and Laurie just laughs, but she still can't quite hide the tightness in her expression.

By the time dessert is being brought out, I take a single bite of the crepe cake and excuse myself. I'm desperate to get some air, desperate to be done with the charade of being strangers that Laurie and I are forced to subject ourselves to.

I head outside, the cooler evening air bringing a small sense of relief to my overheated body. My thoughts are a mess. Laurie, the party, my dad. I'm still not entirely sure how this happened.

I wander aimlessly through the gardens, not wanting to go back inside just yet. It's quiet and peaceful out here, and the farther I get from the house, the easier it is for me to think clearly.

Then I see her.

She’s standing on the stone pathway leading to the garden, her silhouette bathed in the soft glow of the moon. She’s got her arms wrapped around herself, lost in her own thoughts. If I turn around right now, she'll never know I was here.

But as I've proven to myself time and time again, I'm a fool.

I step forward, my boots crunching on the gravel. Laurie turns when she hears me, and for a moment, neither of us says anything. We’re standing there, just staring at each other, the air between us so thick with unsaid words that it’s suffocating.

“Adam,” she says softly, almost like she’s surprised to see me here. Her voice is low, tentative, but curious.

I have to clear my throat before I can speak. "Laurie. You’re...outside,” I say, stupidly.

I'm mentally kicking myself, but it surprises a laugh out of Laurie. "Sure am. So are you, I noticed. I just needed some air. Tonight has been...a lot."

"Yeah, it sure fucking has."

The silence stretches, and I can feel the pull between us again, that invisible thread connecting us that’s never truly snapped. I can’t stand it any longer. “Laurie, why did you disappear after that night? After we—” I can’t even say it.

She tenses, arms crossing over her chest, and I can see her guard go up instantly. "After we fucked?"

Now it's my turn to be shocked. "Yeah. After we fucked."

Laurie shrugs one shoulder, and I immediately know she's about to close down. She’s been avoiding this for a year, and I have no idea why I thought she’d open up now.

"I don't want to talk about it. It doesn't matter now anyway, right? Our parents?—"

I flinch, stomach turning. "I know. But don't say it, please. Fuck. I haven't even processed that yet."

"Yeah. Me either. God, it's so messed up," Laurie whispers, her eyes going distant.

I nod, stepping closer to her. Close enough to reach out and touch her. I could do it, but I don’t. Instead, I just stare at her, my eyes lingering on the way her breasts push against the silky fabric of her dress, the curve of her hips.

I shouldn't be thinking about her this way, but it's like I can't help myself.

"How did this even happen, Adam?"

She's looking away now, out across the darkened lawn. The question seems like a simple one, but the answer is impossible. There are so many variables, so many little choices that could have altered the course of the last year.

"Hell if I know, Laurie. But I want to know why you left?—"

She cuts me off, her gaze finally meeting mine with an intensity that makes my chest ache. “I lied, okay?” Her voice shakes just slightly, and I almost don’t hear her. But she continues, like she has to get it out. “I told you I was a bartender in town, but I wasn’t. I didn’t want you to know who I really was. The Cartwright heiress. I didn’t want you to treat me any differently."

She had an entire life that I was ignorant about until tonight. The girl who has been haunting my dreams isn't who I thought she was at all. How much of herself did she hide?

“I went back to New York the next day,” she continues, almost like she’s speaking to herself now. “I was only in town for Mom's birthday, and I had a job waiting for me there. I didn’t...I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t stay here with you.”

"So you lied about who you are." It's a statement, not a question, but she answers me anyway.

“Yes. I lied. But it wasn’t about you. It was about me. And it’s not something I want to talk about. Okay?”

There’s a sharpness to her words now, and I realize this is the most honest she’s been with me. She’s hiding behind walls, just like I am. And I get it. I understand it more than she knows. I want to reach out to touch her, to comfort her, but her body language is still closed off.

Instead, I take a step back. “Okay. But you should know, I looked for you, Laurie. I didn’t just forget you.”

Laurie's expression shifts, her surprise shining through for less than a second. Then she's shuttered again. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even look at me.

I take a steadying breath. “So,” I say, trying to keep my tone light, “are we going to talk about how this is actually going to work? You and me living in the same house for a year?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Her voice is sharp, clipped, like she’s already figured this out in her head. “You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours. Simple.”

Simple. Right. I can’t stop the dry laugh that escapes me. “Yeah, that’s a great plan. I’m sure avoiding each other completely in a house we’re both stuck in will go real smoothly.”

Her eyes narrow, and for a second, I see the fire behind them—the same fire that drew me to her in the first place. “It’ll work fine as long as you don’t make it weird,” she shoots back. “Just...do your thing, and I’ll do mine. Problem solved.”

Another laugh bursts out of me. "Ha! You think this isn't already weird? Come the fuck on, Laurie, we spent an entire night?—"

"Don't." She cuts me off again, her voice low and full of warning. "Don't bring that up."

I run a hand over my face, biting back my frustration. She’s got this way of shutting things down, of building walls so fast it makes my head spin. But I can’t just let it go. “Christ, woman. I’m not bringing it up to make things harder. I just think we should figure out how to handle this before it blows up in our faces.”

"There's nothing to handle, Adam. You don't want to be here, and neither do I, but we've both been overruled by our parents." She shivers. "Ugh. Saying it out loud makes me want to puke. Listen. Let's just stay out of each other's way and get through the year without making it a big deal."

“Fine,” I bite the word out. “We’ll stay out of each other’s way. If that’s what you want.”

She nods, chin held high like she’s won some kind of battle. Too bad for her that I can see through the ruse. Laurie knows, deep down, that this battle hasn't even gotten started yet.

“Good,” she says, her voice a little too firm. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

That the idea of ignoring Laurie for a year is about as realistic as pretending I haven’t thought about her every day since we hooked up. But if she needs to lie to herself to get through the day, then that's her call. I'm not following her made-up rules, though. There's still a hell of a lot more I want to know about this woman.

I take a step back, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep from doing something stupid, like kissing her thoroughly enough that she forgets all of her previous arguments. “Guess we’ll just...make it work, then.”

“Yep,” she says, turning away, her tone clipped again. “See you around.”

I can't help but watch her walk away, perfectly steady even in her heels, dress swaying around her perfect, heart-shaped ass. Fuck! This is going to be hell. A full year of pretending she doesn’t make my pulse race, pretending I’m not still haunted by the feel of her lips on mine, pretending I’m okay with this ridiculous arrangement.

I shake my head, muttering under my breath, “Yeah, we’re definitely lying to ourselves.”