Page 26 of His Pretty Little Duet

Feeling defensive and ungrateful, I impulsively say, "I don't need you to feed me. I'm here to see my dad. That's all. I'm not your responsibil?—"

He stands and my words freeze on my tongue as his eyes narrow. Towering above me even from the other side of the desk, he liquifies my knees and legs.

"I'll indulge this conversation once and once only," he states, closing the gap between us before leaning back on his desk, dropping slightly to just above eye level. He grips the polished wood either side of his hips and looks me dead in the eye while I try to remember how lungs work. "Youaremy responsibility. While you are under my roof, you will eat three meals a day. You will make yourself comfortable. If you don't like something, use your voice, say it. You will not apologise unless you have done something wrong. The wordsorrycarries no significance when it's used to hide a lack of confidence."

I swallow. Where I should feel shame or anger over being schooled, I actually feel ...noticed? My mother used to tell me I apologised too often, whereas my foster mother made the word my soundtrack.

I nod, stiffly. "I understand, Mr Butcher. Thank you."

A smile builds across his masculine features, and God, it's not a practised smile, but a real one. This one soars into my heart. I like it too much. The curve of his lips—subtle and confident. The way his eyes respond—softening, flittering with small amounts of praise.

"Sir," he purrs. The word carries weight as his tone drops, hitting me with a gravelly aftershock that creates a pulse in places it really shouldn't. Places that cause me to shift, squirm. His eyes drop to watch my feet.

He has a wife.

"May I be excused,Sir? I'd love some orange juice." I exhale fast, somehow breathless, feeling his energy around me, too intoxicating, too close. The strands of his attention and the dizzying affliction of being held accountable are addictive.

Ignore this feeling.

To him, you're an obligation.

This is just hospitality—fucked-up, controlling hospitality.

Nothing else.

I back up.

His mouth is now a provocative tick, tilting at the corner as though he can read my body language. "Absolutely." Forcing myself to turn from him, I go to leave, but his voice stills me. "No cake, Fawn. Not without having had dinner."

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip—where there should be shame, annoyance, I feel immenselyseen.I wrap my arms around myself. "That seems fair."

"I'm glad you think so."

With that, I stride away from him. Air like a gale-force wind beats into my lungs, expanding them to aid my shallow breaths.

Clay

I watchFawn as she wanders away, down the hallway, before turning to my brother, catching his eyes scrutinising me.

Smug little shit.

"She's...distracting," he says with a smirk.

I move back to my desk, smiling with feigned indifference as though he's alone in his assessment. "Plenty of pretty girls in this world, Xan. Which reminds me, go home. You need your beauty sleep."

"I'm young, mate, those kinds of issues are reserved for men your age." He fights back an inevitable yawn as it surfaces. "But I do have a hot chick in my bed. Wouldn't mind waking her up early with my cock."

Sitting down, I shake my head through a long sigh. "Charming."

"Absolutely." A grin twitches on his lips as he collects his backpack and file. "I'm smooth as fuck. She won't even wake up until I'm balls deep."

It's a front. I know this. A small chuckle leaves me anyway, amused by his youthful demeanour, be it a mask for whateverails him or not. I've still always enjoyed his unrestrained banter. "You spent far too much time with Max growing up."

I know... because he was available.

Where I wasn't. It's an unfortunate truth.

He heads towards the door, his backpack braced over his shoulder, looking every bit a young man without the kind of weight that my predetermined path bestowed upon me. Looking it, yes, but he isn't fooling me. He's hiding so much. But aren’t we all? If I were a better brother, I'd ask him about it. If I were a better brother, I'd know. "Thanks for your help, Xan. Drive safely."

---