Page 14 of Rogue’s Reckoning

I’ve never felt that way before. My family has always favored Ivy over me. She’s the better sister—the one who is a free spirit, the girl who can do no wrong—while I’m the weirdo who sits in the corner and reads. I get that we’re different, despite us being twins, but I’m not a people person. I much prefer individual conversations than being in a group, where I feel awkward and overwhelmed.

I’m not used to feeling the way Rogue makes me feel, and I’m not sure what to do about it. I’d love to see him again, but I get the sense there’s a lot about him that I don’t know—or that he doesn’t want to tell me, at least. I can’t deny that if last night was the last time I ever see him, it was an amazing way to end the time we spent together.

Just thinking about it makes my cheeks heat. God, what’s wrong with me?

"Earth to Willow!" my friend Zoe's voice snaps me out of my daydream. "Where were you just now? You look like the cat that got the cream."

I blush deeper, ducking my head. "Nowhere," I mumble unconvincingly.

Zoe's eyes widen. "Oh my god, you met someone! Spill, girl!"

I bite my lip, debating how much to share. "His name is Rogue," I say finally. "We met at O'Malley's the other night."

"Rogue?" Zoe raises an eyebrow. "Sounds dangerous."

If only she knew. There's definitely something dangerous about Rogue, but it only adds to his allure. "He's... intense," I admit. "But so gentle and caring too."

Zoe leans in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And? Did you...?"

I nod, unable to keep the smile off my face. "Last night. It was... amazing."

Zoe squeals, drawing annoyed looks from our classmates. "Our little Willow, all grown up! I want all the details later."

As class begins, I try to focus on the lecture. But my mind keeps wandering back to Rogue. To the way he held me after, like he never wanted to let go. The soft kiss he pressed to my forehead this morning over coffee.

I've never felt this way before. It's exhilarating and terrifying all at once. I know so little about him, about his life outside of our bubble. But when I'm with him, none of that seems to matter.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. I go through the motions of my classes and my shift at the daycare, but my thoughts are constantly on Rogue. Will he call? When will I see him again?

As I walk back to my apartment that evening, my phone buzzes with a text. My pulse spikes as I wonder if it’s from Rogue, but my heart sinks when I see it’s a message from Ivy.

Ivy: Dinner tonight. Mom’s asked me to tell you.

I sigh. Why couldn’t Mom tell me herself?

Me: What time?

Ivy: Seven. I’ll see you there.

Ugh, I don’t want to go. I know it won’t be entertaining.

I groan inwardly at the thought of family dinner. As much as I love my parents and Ivy, these dinners always leave me feeling drained and inadequate. The constant comparisons between Ivy and me, the not-so-subtle hints about my lack of social life... it's exhausting.

But I can't skip it without facing a barrage of questions and guilt trips. So I resign myself to an evening of forced smiles and deflecting personal questions.

I arrive at my parents'house just before seven, steeling myself for the evening ahead. Ivy's already there, lounging on the couch with a cup of coffee.

"Hey, sis," she greets me with a lazy smile. "You look... different. Something happen?"

I blush, cursing my fair skin that shows every emotion. "No, nothing," I lie, avoiding her knowing gaze.

Ivy's eyes narrow, but before she can press further, our mother sweeps into the room.

"Girls! So glad you could both make it," she says, air-kissing our cheeks. "Willow, darling, you look flushed. Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine, Mom," I assure her, forcing a smile. "Just a bit warm from the walk over."

Dinner is as I expected—a minefield of loaded questions and veiled criticisms.

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