Page 93 of Sweet Sinners
She shrugs, not looking up. "If I go inside, I'll just stare at the door."
"Yourbooks—"
"I can't focus." She interrupts quickly, frowning at her screen. "Besides, you're supposed to be teaching me."
I recognize this tone immediately. She only interrupts me when anxiety is clawing at her, when her mind won't slow down. I set down my tools, stepping closer. Cali’s eyes flicker up to mine—beautiful, stormy blue eyes I still can't get used to looking into.
Gently, I reach out and take hold of her braid, lifting the messy, knotted strands she hastily twisted together earlier. "You braided this like you were pissed off," I tease softly.
Her mouth twitches in a reluctant half-smile. "I was distracted."
"This," I say gently, pulling her phone from her fingers, "is what you've been doing instead of letting me teach you. You sent the text, Cali. Now all we can do is wait. We have a plan. We know Anna’s been here—but she doesn’t know we know that. She hasn't leaked the photo. We're okay."
"Are we?" Her voice is barely a whisper, and it wavers. "We've been sneaking around from the start. Even if Anna doesn't expose us, even if we get her arrested, the scandal of us being together could still destroy the company. People will doubt my judgment. They'll call us sick."
I close the distance between us, cupping her cheek firmly, making sure her gaze stays locked onto mine. "Listen to me. It’s simple. Before I was released, we were basically strangers. Everyone knows that. The staff, your grandparents, everyone important. We'll control the narrative, Cali. We shape what people see."
She bites her lip, uncertainty swirling in her eyes.
"We can't keep hiding forever," I tell her quietly.
"I know," she whispers. "I don't want to. But what if we go public and everything falls apart? If we break up, it’ll become a mess neither of us can escape. And if we don’t break up…even if we make this work, noone will ever let us forget we're stepsiblings. What kind of future can we build with that hanging over us?"
"Then end it now."
"No," she gasps, lunging forward and gripping my arm like she’s terrified I'll disappear if she lets go. Her fingers tighten desperately, voice shaking. "Don't say that, Connor. Please."
I stop, looking down into those ocean-blue eyes filled with turmoil, my heart hammering painfully in my chest. "We've been together a week, Cali. If you're already struggling with the whispers, the judgment—then tell me now. Before we get any deeper, before this becomes messier and more painful."
Her breath hitches, fingers trembling against my skin. I see the internal battle raging behind her eyes, fear and desire locked in a fierce, silent war.
"Is this an ultimatum?" she demands, voice tight, accusing.
"No," I say firmly, holding her gaze. "It’s not. It’s a choice, Cali. You can either be with me or spend your life worrying about what everyone else thinks. You have to decide which matters more, your happiness or their approval. Every choice has consequences, and you need to choose the one you can live with—the one you really want. Everything else is just noise."
Her lip quivers, and it takes everything in me not to reach out and hold her, kiss her until the fear fades. But I can't fix this for her. It has to be her choice. My reputation is already a train wreck; I didn’t ask to be framed for our parents' deaths. But I chose to not repeat my mistakes after being allowed to come back. I chose to keep my anger in check, to take my fists to the wall instead of someone else's face. Choices. Always choices and now Cali has to make hers.
Stepping closer, I soften my voice, eyes burning into hers. "Forget everyone else, Cali. Just tell me, what do you want?"
I don't care what the world thinks of me. Let the podcasters dissect my life, let strangers whisper behind their screens—I was never built to worry about the opinions of people who don’t matter. All I care about is what the people I love think—and above all, what I think of myself.
I turn to leave the greenhouse, but her quiet voice stops me. "I want you," Cali whispers, her words breaking the silence. "You make me feel strong. Safe. You challenge me, push me, support me. I’m succeeding because of you. Yes, you're attractive—God, the sex is incredible—but it’s more than that. Even when someone else was right there, offering everything on paper, I knew it wouldn't work. We do."
Slowly, I turn back to face her, closing the distance between us until I’m standing close enough to see the uncertainty still flickering in her eyes. "That's enough," I say quietly, steady but firm. "We don't need to know the future right now. We'll figure it out together as it comes."
Cali steps closer, carefully pulling the gloves from my hands with a small, teasing smile. "We agreed these stay out here, yes? So you won’t forget to use them."
I give her a faint smile, appreciating the light moment despite the heaviness that’s hung over us ever since we saw Anna lurking through our security cameras. Since then, we’ve kept our distance, agreeing we’d only touch when curtains are drawn, when we're safely behind closed doors. Necessary, but maddening as hell.
We walk toward the house together, shoulders brushing just enough to keep that simmering tension between us alive. Inside the main house, I glance down at her. "I'll start dinner."
"Yeah," she murmurs softly, clearly distracted. "Anything in mind?"
"Stuffed peppers," I say, watching her carefully. "We should have everything."
I step toward the kitchen, looking back over my shoulder. "Movie, a show, or are you wanting some separate time tonight?"
When Cali doesn't respond—a rarity, since she always has an opinion—I stop. She’s halfway to the living room, eyes glued to her phone screen, her hand trembling slightly. She swallows hard, her whole body suddenly rigid.
