Page 13 of Keeping Our Secrets

How could I turn down a gorgeous woman I’d never see again?

A chick had never gotten under my skin before. For the last four months, she’d been on my thoughts and in my dreams. We spent every moment of that weekend together before I left. The last night in the hot tub was the most memorable. We used a condom every time, except that night. She said she was on the pill, and she was just too hot in that red bikini. I’d be back in Scotland and never see her again. Or so I thought. Never in a million years did I expect to see her again, let alone have her move in.

Lucky me, now she’s going to be my stepsister.

The key question weighing on my mind right now was to do with how old she actually was. She told me she was twenty-one in Paris, but from everything my dad had explained was that she had just graduated high school. So either she was lying or she went back to upgrade her credits to get into a better college.

I eyed her once again.

Everything about the way she dressed set me on edge. From the lack of makeup, to the baggy sweatpants and loose shirt she was wearing.

Fuck me.

Every. Single. Thing. About her, screamed she was under eighteen or on the cusp of adulthood.

“This is my son, Liam,” Dad introduced us. “Don’t just stand there, son. Say hello to Alana and Mairi.”

“Nice to meet you.” I held out my hand and shook her mom’s hand, then turned to Mairi. “Mairi?”

“Mairi.” Alana nudged her arm. “Stop being so weird.”

“Sorry,” Mairi replied, then shook her head as if she was trying to clear the fuzz.

“Liam, why don’t you show your new sister to her room?” my dad told me.

“Sure, dad,” I replied, then turned to Mairi. “Which bag is yours?”

“It’s the purple one in the corner, but you don’t have to take it. I can carry it myself,” she told me as we both started for it.

“No worries, I got it,” I said as I reached her back first and picked it up. “All the bedrooms are upstairs.”

As far as I knew, my dad had helped them pack up most of their items to ship over here, so I doubted her bag was going to be very heavy. Also, I wouldn’t be a dick. A man was supposed to be a gentleman and help a woman with her bags. Besides, our parents would have totally known something was up if I would have acted like an ass. Even if there was absolutely no way they knew about us meeting in Paris.

At least, I hoped they didn’t know.

“Okay,” she replied timidly. No doubt she was feeling the same shock as I was at our sudden reintroduction.

She followed close behind me in complete silence as I walked toward the stairs. Once we reached the top of the stairs, we went to the room across the hall from mine. If I would have known my new stepsister was going to be the girl who had been burned into my memory, I would have pushed harder for me to move my stuff into the office my dad barely uses on the main floor.

Having her so close and not being able to touch her was going to be sheer torture. It was bad enough wanting her, but not being close to her. Now she was within reach, but since she hadn’t responded to any of the texts I had sent over the past month, I had effectively given up on her.

“Where would you like me to put this?” I asked her.

“You can just set it over by the closet. Thank you for bringing it up for me. You really didn’t have to do that.”

“You’re acting as if you don’t know me at all. I’m not an asshole.”

She glanced down at her hands. “I know you aren’t.”

“Good. I also don’t want to be an asshole, but my next statement is going to piss you the fuck off.”

She needed to know that what happened between us, most definitely couldn’t happen again and our parents could never know. Who knew what either of them would do with that news?

“Okay?” she half responded, half questioned in confusion.

“Our parents can never know what happened between us,” I told her.

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” she snapped back, her eyes narrowing in anger.

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