Page 1 of Watching You
One
Kane
The mansion looks dead.
I kill the engine and sit in silence, staring at the house I grew up in. Most of the lights are off, except for one upstairs—Kinsley’s room. She’s probably still packing for move-in tomorrow, dragging half her closet to campus like she’s prepping for a fashion apocalypse.
I should’ve driven straight back to Northern Tennessee. Five hours on the road would’ve been better than this. Better than walking into a house that reeks of pressure and legacy and everything I never asked for.
The scrimmage today was brutal.Rhett’s birthday party afterward?Even worse. Beers, bonfires, and the same recycled girls who think a tight dress and fake laugh will get them a jersey number. I didn’t even stay the night. I contemplated driving the five hours back to campus, but I drove here instead. I needed ashower and a moment of peace before the football season swallows me whole.
I let out a sigh, running a hand through my hair as I step out of the Range Rover, stretch, and sling my duffel over my shoulder. The night air bites at my skin, but it’s the silence that gets me. This place always feels like it’s holding its breath.
Inside, I punch in the alarm code and tiptoe through the foyer. I don’t want to scare the shit out of mom. She’s got enough anxiety as it is. To be fair, I’m sure I’d have the same condition if I were married to someone like my father. The bastard only cares about two things: his precious tech company and me securing my position as first draft pick in the NFL.
Marble floors. Cold walls. My father’s shrine to success. I hate it here. I feel my chest squeeze because it always feels suffocating here, making my visits far and few between. I hate being back here, hate having to speak with my father about the importance of my future. I should have just chugged an energy drink and made the long trek back to campus tonight.
I grab a water bottle from the fridge, down half the bottle, and head upstairs. Kinsley and I share the second floor, but I haven’t seen much of her since I left for college. She’s loud, dramatic, and allergic to silence. I’m not in the mood.
Laughter echoes from her room—hers and someone else’s. Softer. Warmer. It stops me cold.
I know that laugh.
I don’t know how, but I do.
I shake it off and head to my room. Drop my bag. Kick off my shoes. Peel off my shirt. The tension in my shoulders is a vice, and all I want is steam and silence.
As I reach for the doorknob, the bathroom door swings open. Out tumbles a gorgeous little sunflower, petals and all, right into my arms.
“Whoa!” I exclaim, catching her. An adorable little squeal comes from her pouty lips, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Are you alright?” I ask, my eyes falling on her captivating violet ones that beam up at me like two sparkling gems. She looks startled, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink, and I notice how her delicate hands drop the clothes she was previously carrying onto the floor.
“K-Kane?” she stutters, trying to pull away from me, but I hold her firm. Her intoxicating scent of vanilla and something floral hits me like a wave, knocking me off balance. Her soft, warm hands on my bare chest send a jolt straight to my cock.
“I… yeah, it’s me. And you are?” I wonder, genuinely confused. She looks familiar, but I can’t quite place her.
Her expression fractures. “You don’t remember me?”
I shake my head, but something’s clawing at the back of my mind. A memory. A girl with braces and big glasses. Always quiet. Always… counting? Yeah, counting steps, counting bites at the dinner table, but that memory fades as quickly as it came. “Sorry, should I?”
“Of course you should, you jerk!” She pushes against my chest to break free from my grasp. But I’m quick,gently holding her upper arm to keep her close. There’s something about her little temper that sparks something deep within me. A strange hunger, an urge to get to know this little firecracker. I have no idea why I’m so fixated on this curvy seductress in front of me. She’s gorgeous, no doubt, but there’s also something about her that springs old memories to mind.
“What’s your name, sunflower?” I whisper, my voice soft as I lean in slightly, pressing her against the wall, letting her feel all of me. She glares up at me, her violet eyes flashing with indignation as she sucks in a deep breath.
“I’ve been around you since I was twelve, Kane! How drunk are you not to remember me? I’m Blair, you asshole.”
The name hits me like a curse. Like a promise.
“Blair…” I repeat, trying to wrap my mind around a name that feels both new and strangely familiar. She shakes her head, her golden hair shimmering like sunlight. Then, with a swift motion, she pushes me away, breaking free from my grip. I watch in awe as she ducks under my arms, striding toward my sister’s room with a fiery determination. I’m speechless and transfixed, watching the way she walks like a queen, swaying confidently while wearing those adorable pajama shorts that leave little to the imagination.
“Wait, Blair!” I call after her, but she is already gone, the door to my sister’s room slamming shut behind her.
What the hell just happened?
Blair’s been my sister’s best friend for as long as I can recall, her new roommate, in fact. Sure, I haven’t seen her in a few years, but fuck, if that was Blair Everett, then somewhere along the way she blossomed into the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen, and fuck me, she’ll be at my college. The thought makes me groan as I lean over, grabbing the clothes she dropped. I step into the bathroom, closing the door behind me and turning the lock.
I pull the clothes up to my nose and inhale her heady vanilla perfume. Some skimpy lace panties slip from the pile, and I bend to scoop them up, tossing the other clothes on the floor. The soft material slides through my fingers as I pull out my phone. I need to know if this is the same girl.
