Page 9 of The Star

I’m wondering to myself what Carson may look like, how old he is, what his personality might be like, when I hear footsteps coming from my left, down the staircase.

Sara, my father, and I all turn in unison to look when three guys appear on the staircase. They look grown as hell, all of them over six foot and bulky.

“Carson, didn’t we discuss welcoming Gary and Loganwithoutyour friends here?” Sara’s voice sounds clipped, like she’s trying not to scold him in front of us.

I stand in silence, my eyes trained on them. All three of them are so different, the one at the very top of the staircase is leaner with dark hair, his face contorted into a grin that screams mischief. He’s Michelangelo’sDavid, chiseled from stone and full of secrets.

The one in front of him is more muscular, like he hasn’t missed a day in the gym since he was fresh out of puberty. His deep, tanned skin almost glows under the fluorescent lights of the house, telling me he’s Latin – maybe Cuban or Mexican. His dark hair is shaved down close to his scalp at the sides, and when he turns his head, I can see designs carved into the fade. He studies me with dark eyes, like he’s undressing me and reading me all at once.

“We got caught up watching the game.” My gaze pulls to the last boy, the one that spoke.Carson.

He’s the spitting image of Sara – blue eyes and tanned skin, but with curly, sun-kissed blond hair instead of her straight, platinum blonde – that gives him a completely different look to the other two behind him. His expression is mysterious; I can’t get a good read on him. But I do notice that he’s more built than the others, like he must play sports if I’m reading his form correctly. His shoulders are huge, spanning wide and thick.

He runs a hand through his messy hair, his lips turning up into a cocky grin when his eyes finally connect with mine.

“Carson, this is Logan. Your new stepsister.”

I inwardly cringe at the word. “Well, you aren’t married, so we aren’t stepsiblings.”

“Logan!” my father hisses under his breath.

I squeeze my eyes shut when I realize what I just said, but Carson laughs from the staircase – his friends echoing.

I open my eyes to look at Sara. “I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t be sorry, Logan. It’s okay.” She returns her attention to her son. “Are you going to come down here and introduce yourself?”

Carson skips the rest of the way down the stairs on light feet, but his friends stay on the staircase, as if to watch the scene unfold.Because I definitely need an audience for this warm family moment.

Carson stops five feet in front of me, then sticks his hand out, like he wants me to shake it. I stare at it, confused.

He wiggles his fingers after a moment. “This is usually where you would reach out and grab my hand.”

His deep voice sends a jolt of electricity through my veins, so I reach out to slip my hand in his.

His hand is massive, his fingers wrapping around mine tightly as he shakes. “Welcome to the family,sis.”

I find his gaze glued to mine like a magnet when I look at him through my eyelashes, seeing malice and humor swirling in the deep blue depths. The way his eyes bore into mine make the words feel like a threat, and alarms go off in my head.

I pull my hand from his like it’s on fire, unable to find words to say in response to him, so I just give him a small smile and then avert my gaze to my feet.

“Why don’t you say goodbye to your friends, Carson?” Sara puts a hand on Carson’s arm.

The two boys on the staircase take the hint, bounding down the steps and stopping in front of where we’re all standing at the entryway. The one with longer dark hair stands closest to me, and when he turns to me and gives me a playful grin, my stomach falls to my ass.

There’s a cigarette behind his ear, and I can see tattoos peeking out from underneath the collar of his expensive looking shirt. His eyes are so dark they’re almost black, boring into my soul like he’s trying to suck the life from me. “Logan, right?”

I perk an eyebrow, dragging my eyes along every millimeter of his face to try and memorize it. “Yes.”

“I’m Hayden Monroe.”

I smile with venom on my tongue. “Good for you.”

His eyebrows move up his forehead a little, as if I’ve caught him off guard, but he’s quick to mask the gesture, holding himself composed. His eyes narrow, as if in warning, so I just show him my teeth in a smile that tells him exactly how much I amnotscared of him.

“Levi Valentino.” My attention is pulled from Hayden, finding a hand extended toward me. “Nice to meet you, Logan.”

I study the other guy, trying to decide if he’s also going to be a problem for me, but there’s something about him that radiates warmth. He’s big as fuck, but his smile tells me he isn’t as cold as his friend.

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