Page 49 of Sweet Sinners
A laugh catches in my throat, dry and disbelieving. "You say that like you aren’t already paying me."
"It’s different," she insists, her gaze locked onto mine, unshaken. "You can’t earn your own way right now. You still need things, and you deserve to have them. You’ve been by my side, helping me fix everything that’s falling apart at work, and I want to do the same for you."
She shouldn’t be able to get to me like this. Not with just a few words.
But my stomach knots anyway, my mind flashing back to her perched on my lap, arguing fiercely like she wasn’t afraid of me, like she didn’t give a damn about how I might react—just that I was hurt, just that she could fix it.
"So, the food?" Her voice drops a note lower, teasing now, her hip brushing lightly against mine.
"Right," I say, forcing my focus back on the dish, stirring with more force than necessary. "It’s almost ready. Tteokbokki. You can check the recipe if you’re worried it’ll be too much for you."
Cali laughs, bright and easy, stepping back. "I can handle it. But first, I’m getting out of these work clothes and into something more comfortable."
She turns, heading toward the stairs, and for a second, just a split second, I swear I feel the ghost of her fingers graze my lower back.
A shiver rips through me.
I’m still getting used to the idea of touch that isn’t meant to hurt. That doesn’t carry the weight of violence or consequence. And hers—soft, fleeting, uncalculated—feels dangerous in a completely different way.
No, she doesn’t mean it like that.
She can’t.
Cali doesn’t see me that way. She made it clear she was interested in someone else, only turning him down for the sake of professionalism. She could be with anyone. And yet the thought of her laughing with another guy, getting close, kissing, fucking—
A tight, ugly knot forms in my stomach.
It shouldn’t matter. Regardless of our parents dying, she’s still my stepsister. That doesn’t change. Even if we weren’t raised together, even if she was always away at boarding school while I was busy raising hell, the fact remains: she is off-limits.
Just like the angel’s trumpet blooming in the greenhouse.
Untouchable. Forbidden. Beautiful and dangerous.
I need to shake this. Stop twisting our closeness into something it’s not.
It’s been three years, but that doesn’t give me the right to misinterpret what’s happening between us. To take something innocent and warp it into something reckless.
Because recklessness leads to trouble.
And trouble?
Trouble is the last fucking thing I need.
But my body doesn’t seem to give a shit.
Just her nearness, the lightest touch, a few simple words, and suddenly, I’m standing here, gripping the counter, willing my blood to cool.
I glance down, scowling at the obvious problem straining against my jeans.
"I am not ruining this," I mutter through clenched teeth, glaring at my cock like that alone might will it into submission.
Chapter twenty-four
Cali
EverythingConnorcooksisperfect.
Not just good. Not just delicious.Perfect.
