Page 18 of Sin With Me

There’s something she’s not telling me, but I’m determined to find out what’s haunting her so I can fix it.

Delilah Fanning is the only woman I’ve caught feelings for, and up until five minutes ago, considered off-limits.

But now that I’ve had a taste, I’m not giving up without a fight.

Chapter Two

Delilah

Ishouldn’t have kissed him.

I’d been doing a good job of pushing him away. Hell, I’d been doing it for years, so I should be a pro by now.

Pretend I’d never be interested and give him shit whenever we’re together.

It was my protective armor.

But it’s gotten harder over the past year when I became his weekend babysitter and watched women fall all over him—even though he hadn’t taken any of them home. He’d paid more attention to me than them, and inevitably, my feelings have only grown.

When Waylon asked me to watch him on New Year’s Eve, I agreed because I knew Waylon was burnt out. Although he’s my ex-boyfriend, there’s no bad blood between us.

And now that he’s dating my little sister, Harlow, I consider him more as family than anything.

But Wilder’s a different story.

He always has been and that’s why I tried to stay away and act indifferent or annoyed with him when he was around me.

It’s not cute to crush on your ex’s twin brother, who can’t get his shit together and would never be able to give me what I need or be in a serious relationship. Wilder’s a player, sleeps around, gets drunk every weekend, and doesn’t take life too seriously. Knowing that and still getting involved would be asking for heartbreak.

And when he inevitably would, Waylon and Harlow would be put in the middle.

But he also makes my heart beat faster than any other guy I’ve tried to date.

A connection I’ve never felt before.

I’ve brushed it off for years. Focused on my trick riding career, my family, and my horse, Jasmine.

Tonight, something in me snapped.

When he said this would be the last time I’d have to babysit him, I needed to give him a reason to want to see me again.

Although I’d been giving him shit all night and even got frustrated with him a few times, the way he didn’t think twice about getting in that guy’s face made my stomach flutter.

Being the oldest daughter, who held a lot of responsibilities growing up—even more after my dad’s work accident and Harlow’s incident—and one who thrives on control, it’s a foreign experience to have someone protective of me without a second thought.

It wasn’t the first time he stood up to some drunken idiot, but it was the first time the fuse burning inside that kept me from acting on my feelings finally exploded.

I never expected him to reciprocate when I aggressively kissed him. If anything, I thought he’d push me away or laugh in my face. But I couldn’t help myself. The need to know how his lips tasted and how it felt to have his tongue piercing in my mouth outweighed the possible embarrassment of his rejection.

He hasn’t been with anyone in a while, so I figured his erection was a normal response to being kissed. I didn’t put too much stock in it, but when he got all flustered about me asking for a condom, my insecurities took over.

That and the habit of self-sabotaging whenever the waves of grief and guilt hit me.

Something I’ve learned from grief counseling.

Guilt for enjoying myself when I should be grieving my dad. Although he passed away ten months ago, my mom, sister, and I just celebrated his first birthday in heaven yesterday.

Maybe that’s why I’m out of my mind and not thinking straight.