Page 2 of Falling for the Forbidden
Something passes over his face but it’s gone too quickly to be able to identify. He pushes himself from the counter and away from me. No more words are said, but when he gets to the door, he looks back over his shoulder and runs his eyes over my body. They hold a warning I don’t really understand.
Once he’s disappeared from sight, I sag back against the counter. What the hell was that?
After putting half of the rocky road on a tray in the fridge, I forgo sitting outside and instead take my spoils to my room to hide. There’s stuff everywhere in my room and, unlike the rest of this house, it makes me feel a little more relaxed.
Since the day Ben and I were introduced by our parents, we’ve not really had any kind of relationship. He’s pretty much stayed out of my way and, in turn, I’ve done the same. It’s not all that much of a task. When I’m here, he spends almost every minute somewhere else. When he’s home, he’s moody, arrogant, and generally a prick, so I’m more than happy to stay out of his way.
It’s just a shame he’s so damn pretty to look at. As the years have passed, he’s only become more attractive, too. I’ve no idea if it’s just his job or if he works out as well because every inch of him seems to be toned to perfection.
Jenny spends most of her time apologising for his attitude and trying to explain that he’s got a lot going on. I’m yet to discover what that is. As far as I can tell, he seems to be your average twenty-year-old guy who’d rather be off his arse drunk or with a woman than spending time at home with his parents.
By the time I’ve dug my way to the bottom of the bowl, I feel pretty sick. There’s still no sign of my dad or Jenny, but the music pounding from Ben’s room across the hallway leaves no doubt as to what kind of mood he’s in.
Chapter Two
The steady beatof Ben’s music must have eventually sent me to sleep, because the next thing I know, the sun is streaming in through the crack in the curtains and everything’s silent once again.
After freshening myself up, I drag the hoodie I stole from my ex over my head, suddenly aware of just how much skin I had on display last night, and go in search of a cup of tea.
Just like the night before, everything is silent. There are no signs of them returning home late last night…no shoes by the door or a dirty glass in the kitchen sink like normal people. The whole place is, once again, perfect. Even the mess I made in the kitchen is gone, like I never existed.
Dad and Jenny eventually show their faces, going directly for the coffee machine. Dad mutters a good morning before disappearing into his office. I know that his argument for me living here was so I could be close for both work and uni, but I’ve not even been here twenty-four hours yet, and I’m pretty sure no one would have noticed if I hadn’t bothered. I shouldn’t really be shocked that Dad just wants me to fall neatly into his perfectly planned-out life, but I guess I am. When he originally suggested it, I was ready to point-blank refuse, but Mum seemed to think it was an excellent idea. I must remember to thank her for pushing this on me the next time I speak to her.
“Can you make sure you’re free Sunday night? The four of us are going out to celebrate you moving in and officially starting at Johnson & Sons,” Jenny asks once she’s had a sip of her coffee.
The idea fills me with dread, but I agree before she also disappears. I hear her talking to someone before the house goes silent once again.
I’m still poking cereal around in a bowl when the atmosphere in the room changes. I don’t need to look up to know why, but I do, nonetheless.
My breath catches at the sight of him. His dark hair sticks up in all directions, and his eyes are red and bloodshot, dark circles surrounding them.
“Morning,” I sing politely.
All I get in response is a grunt and an angry glance as he follows in the steps of our parents and kicks the coffee machine into action. The scent of the beans once again fills the room and, just like always, I turn my nose up. I’ve no idea how anyone can drink that vile stuff.
* * *
After flickingthrough the channels on my TV, I let out a long sigh. It’s the first day of what should be my summer holiday, and I’m fed up already.
Grabbing my phone, I send a message to my best friend, Danni, who took me under her wing on my first day of sixth form and showed me the ropes. We hit it off instantly and have been close ever since, despite our obvious differences. She lives in an incredible house in Chelsea with her parents, whereas I was on the outskirts of the city in a small two-bedroom flat with Mum. Thankfully, her family don’t see money quite the way Dad does. They’re the most down-to-earth people I’ve ever met, despite the millions they’ve made from their antiques business.
It doesn’t take much convincing for Danni to persuade me to stay at her place and go out for cocktails. I’ve only been here one night and I already can’t wait to get out.
* * *
“So, how’s the show home?”she asks as we’re getting ready.
“About a fun as expected.” Dropping my eyeliner pencil, I glance at Danni, sitting on her bed with a cocktail at her lips, her eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m sure it’ll only get better once I start work on Monday.”
“I can’t believe you’ve got to workallsummer. Zante won’t be the same without you.” My heart drops at her words. Our group of friends has spent months planning our first holiday without our parents—not to mention that I saved my arse off to be able to afford to go. But Dad put pay to any plans I had the moment he told me what my summer would consist of.
“You’ll have an amazing time.” I try to put as much excitement into my voice as possible, but I don’t think I really manage it.
“I guess,” she says sadly. “Anyway, how is it, living with Ben?” Her eyebrows wiggle in interest. It’s no secret that not a single one of my friends would say no to a night with my stepbrother. His reputation still preceded him when I started at the same school he went to. It helped me fit in, in a sense, but it also made me a target for any girls brave enough to want to find out more about the elusive bad boy.
“He’s…” The couple of interactions I’ve had with him run through my mind as I try to come up with a suitable answer. “Interesting.”
“Interesting? That’s all you’ve got?” Shrugging, I go back to finishing off my make-up.
