Page 45 of My Enemy, My Obsession

I blink. He’s worried about what I think of him? I can barely fathom this idea, but as I look into his eyes, I see just a hint of trepidation. I think he really feels I can’t handle his world. Or maybe just him. “I already like you, Ethan, or I wouldn’t be here.”

“You don’t know me well enough to say that yet, Sofia. There are things—”

“You think I can’t handle?”

“Yes,” he says. “Exactly.”

It’s at that moment that a man sits down next to me. I jolt and I would rotate if Ethan’s grip on my hand and leg didn’t tighten. “What the fuck are you doing here, Grant?” Ethan snaps.

“Is that any way to greet your brother?”

His brother. This is Ethan’s brother, who he’s expressed to me he is not close to and who he’s in some kind of conflict with at present, which is rather obvious. My gaze settles on Ethan’s face, and the look in his eyes is more than disdain.

He hates this man. He hates him with all his being.

What could make two brothers hate each other as much as these two?

Chapter Thirty-Seven

“Following me now, Grant?”Ethan says drily, sipping his coffee. To those who might observe, he is nonchalant, unaffected, and regal. To all but me, whose legs are encased by his powerful, tense thighs, his need to hold onto me offering instructions.

Don’t move. Don’t engage.

“It’s low for even you,” he adds.

“You wish you were that important to me,” Grant replies, and while he attempts to be as aloof as Ethan, his fingers tap the table, and there’s an edgy, nervous energy about him. “We just happened to be here.” He indicates a table to my far right.

I glance over to find a stunning blonde who is voluptuous in a black dress that I can tell fits her curves to perfection even from where she sits. Ethan’s gaze never leaves the table. “What do you want, Grant?”

“Why don’t I invite Anna over and we can catch up?” Grant proposes, and I have no idea why, but I have this sense that it’s a brazen suggestion on Ethan’s brother’s part.

Ethan’s expression doesn’t change, but there is a flex to his legs where they hold mine, and a coldness in his eyes that I can only call brutal. He hates Grant. And I think he might hate Anna, too.

“We’re about to leave,” Ethan states, reaching in his pocket and pulling out his wallet before waving to the waitress.

She rushes over, and Ethan hands his card to her. The woman hurries away, but I watch as a customer stops her, and I’m certain she will not bring that bill nearly as fast as Ethan would prefer at this point. Grant then does what I’ve silently hoped to avoid. He shifts to face me, and thankfully, Ethan releases my legs as I instinctively scoot further away from Grant and rotate to bring him into full view.

He doesn’t strike me as Ethan’s brother, though he’s good-looking, I suppose, but there is an imperfect quality to him Ethan does not possess. His jaw is not quite as straight, his eyes not quite as bright blue, his presence nowhere near as magnetic. And I don’t know what got into me, but I say, “You don’t look like him. You even have a different energy.”

Grant’s jaw clenches, and his irritation is downright palpable. “The last thing I attempt to do is remind anyone of Ethan,” he replies, his tone as sour as bad milk.

“Of course not,” I say. “I don’t have siblings, but I imagine the comparisons might become off-putting.”

“Who are you?” he snaps.

I’m saved answering when Anna appears beside us at the end of the table. “Hi, everyone,” she greets, and she is prettier in close range than I imagined, her skin porcelain perfection, her eyes a bright green one might call summer grass. Her lips plump and pink. If ever there was a female that could make me feel inferior, she stands before me now, and her attention is locked on Ethan a few beats too long.

He does not look at her. Anna seems to tear her gaze from Ethan before she glances around the table, all but dismissing Grant and focusing on me. “Who are you?”

So much for dodging the question. “Who areyou?” I counter, and I can almost feel Ethan’s amusement at my turnaround.

Anna bristles, her delicate brows dipping, and I wonder when the check will arrive. She ignores my question, as if not about to be forced to answer first, and she seems to make a decision to claim her territory, and it’s not Grant. She sits down next to Ethan and rotates to face him. Grant’s energy is a missile in a deep dive, and I’m fearful an explosion is about to follow.

“How are you?” Anna asks of Ethan, her voice soft and delicate, an intimacy about the question I do not like, a ripe jealous sensation spiraling through me that is like nothing I have ever known.

Ethan senses it and captures my legs again, ignoring her, his eyes warm as they meet mine. “How are you?” he asks softly.

“Ready to leave, please.”

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