Page 8 of Mine to Ruin

I look from one man to the other. They have won the gene lottery.

“Brandon.”

A warning flashes in his voice, and Brandon drags a hand through his brown hair, his nostrils flaring.

“You’re outside, and the paparazzi are roaming.”

“Are you deaf?” my stranger snaps harshly.

Hurt laces Brandon’s hazel eyes, and he bolts through the door.

I put my hands on my hips and tilt my head. “That was mean.”

He slaps a hand against the wall, breathing in and out to calm down. “He’s my brother.”

“Even worse, then.”

“Then you must be an only child.” He huffs and pinches the bridge of his nose as if to get his emotions back in check. “I don’t know how to be his brother. All my life I have protected him like my own.”

His answer shocks me. I grab his hand and caress his palm with my thumb. “Maybe he wants to do the same.”

“He can’t,” he deadpans and drags me to him. “Come home with me.”

I plant my hands on his chest. “No.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him why, but I stop myself. He’s a stranger. I don’t need to explain why I do or don’t do something.

Something like surprise flashes in his eyes. “Take care, angel,” he says before he pecks me on the lips one last time.

I stare at his back as he disappears through the doors of the club.

Back inside, I search for him, but he’s gone. In his place, Brandon eyes me pensively. From across the dance floor, the girls wave at me to join them, but I shake my head and sit down. They pout but continue dancing, while guys circle them to gain their attention. Giving up on finding my stranger, I swallow the lump in my throat.

I’m relieved when the girls return to the table. Tara says she is tired and wants to go home. Aubrey glares at both of us, whines for a bit, but ends up giving in. In the Uber, Aubrey turns around to talk to me, slurring her words.

“Did you see him?”

“Who?”

“Kian Reyes. Come on, are you two oblivious? He is, like, the sexiest man on the planet. I swear you are either blind or gay. And if you are the latter, and not telling me, I will blow a gasket.”

Tara rolls her eyes in the back of the car as Aubrey goes on. “He left so soon, like, who leaves his own party so quickly?”

“Maybe he got bored, found something better to do,” I say with a shrug.

“Maybe he didn’t like it?” Tara asks.

“The King of the Night? Doubt it.”

“Such a lame title.” I scrunch up my nose and Aubrey rests her head on the window.

“But it fits him well. And his brother is such a cutie, and his entourage…! They make it hard for women to choose,” she adds with dreamy eyes while Tara snorts.

Once home, I retreat to my room, and cleanse my face of makeup. I still feel his eyes on me, the power he wielded over my body. He almost had me caving and demanding he give me more. I shake the thoughts away, but they return as I toss and turn in bed, and two gray eyes pin me down.

Here I am fantasizing about the most wrong guy in history. He is the ultimate red flag, the epitome of, ‘Girl, if you want perdition, let him have you.’ But there was something more. Something flashed in his eyes, beckoning me. When sleep takes hold, I dream of two gray eyes with speckles of greens and a mouth made for seduction.

Chapter 3

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