He stepped into the room like he belonged to it. Dark jeans, black shirt rolled at the sleeves, silver rings on his fingers. His leather jacket was tossed over one shoulder, and his hair was messier than usual, falling over his brow like he didn't care enough to fix it. His jaw was sharp, mouth unsmiling, and the chain around his neck shimmered under the party lights. Tattoos clouding his arms.

He looked like a storm wrapped in casual confidence, and I couldn't look away.

"Jeremy!" Carol shouted, waving over the crowd.

I wanted the floor to open and swallow me whole. Carol no! But I didn't say it out loud. I acted like I wasn't affected.

He looked up when he heard her, and for a brief second, his eyes flickered to me. My breath hitched. He started to stalk towards us, and with each step he took, my heart pounded harder than before. I readjusted my glasses as if that would make me feel better.

He stopped before us and said nothing to me. He just turned to greet Carol like I wasn't even standing there.

"Hi Carol," His deep voice swallowed the air around us. God, nothing about Jeremiah Carter was healthy. Even his voice just sent my body jolting. Nobody should have that effect on anyone, should they?

"You having fun?" My ever chatty best friend asked him but I couldn't tell his facial. I tried to shun his voice away as they spoke.

I looked down at my cup, pretending to fix my straw, pretending he hadn't just skipped over me like a ghost.

"You okay?" Carol asked as he walked away.

"I told you. I don't care," I said, too calmly. "I'm just shocked, that's all. It's weird. He's my stepbrother now."

Carol didn't push it this time, just gave me a side glance and changed the topic.

Just as I looked away, someone else approached our table.

Another boy. No-man.

He was tall, almost too tall, his dark eyes scanning the room with slow, unapologetic arrogance. His hair was raven-black, slightly tousled, and he wore a snug charcoal hoodie and ripped black jeans. Muscles stretched beneath the fabric like they had nowhere else to go. Tattoos were on every little exposed part of his body, except his face, but his hands were clad in black leather gloves so I wouldn't know if he had them there too. His jawline was perfect, his lips full, but his whole presence screamed trouble. And he had that same biker-cool swagger Jeremy had...only darker.

Carol gasped with a grin. "Zayne!" Oh, Carol knew him too. I wasn't surprised. She was my opposite. Ever out-going.

He came over and leaned casually against the edge of the table. "Hey, Princess," he said, voice low and gravelly.

Carol rolled her eyes but giggled. "Teyana, this is Zayne-Chris' friend." Of course,

That made me blink. I looked at him briefly and then back down at my drink. He was intimidatingly gorgeous. His eyes were intense, a little too sharp, and it felt like he was sizing me up.

Zayne tilted his head and looked straight at me.

"I like your glasses," he complimented, a thick British accent rolling off his tongue.

I glanced up, then quickly away. "Thanks," I replied, curtly.

He turned to Carol and asked under his breath-but not quietly enough, "Who's your shy little friend?"

Carol snorted. "No-go area for you, Zayne. She's way too innocent for your mess."

Zayne didn't respond. He just kept staring at me like he could already see what was beneath the surface.

I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable. There was something about his eyes. Like he didn't just look at girls, he read them. Deeply. Quietly. Like a slow-burning fire waiting to ignite.

No way my poetic mind was at it again.

I glanced across the room, maybe to escape his gaze.

That was when I saw Jeremy again.

He was standing near the bar, a pretty girl beside him talking, laughing, trying to get his attention. But he wasn't looking at her.

He was looking at our table.

At me.

Or maybe at Zayne? Did he know him too?

His unreadable expression didn't change. He just kept watching until the girl touched his arm-then he finally looked away.

Zayne gave me a parting smile. "Name's Zayne. Hope I see you around." His smile was charming.

And then he was gone.

I exhaled. "He's...intimidating."

Carol smirked. "He's worse than intimidating.Trust me, you don't wanna know the kind of stuff Zayne is involved in. I heard he and Jeremy used to race together. Then something happened. Now, they're practically enemies."

"Oh, sure...Jeremy would know someone like Zayne." It's believable. Not like Jeremy was some saint himself.

I looked back at the bar again, only to find Jeremy gone.

My chest tightened.

As the party wore on and people danced, drank, and ate, my eyes kept trailing around to find Jeremy. It was later I got to know he left.

I got home long ago but Carol stayed back with Chris, her cheeks flushed and her laugh full as he introduced us. Chris was pretty decent and he was surprisingly in suits. He was gorgeous as well, but looked much more responsible and friendly than Jeremiah. How was he even managing with Jeremy and Zayne?

I could've stayed too, but the night had worn me out-emotionally, mentally, in ways I couldn't explain.

"Hey Teyana,your mother told me you went to your friend's birthday party. You are back early." My stepfather, John Carter, said. He was about heading out with my mother. They were both elegantly dressed up.

"Oh Yes, I was having headache and just couldn't stay long."

"Oh sweetheart, might have been the loud musics. You young adults can't hold a party without all the..."

"I will be in my room, Mum." I interrupted her, grinning widely like I hadn't just shutted her up deliberately. Her feigned sweetness was getting on my nerves and seriously? I didn't want to have this meaningless conversations with them. She pretended not to notice my hostility and continued.

"Okay, love. Your stepbrother is upstairs. You guys need time to bond. Be a sweetheart to him so that he could be your big brother on campus."

This is the moment where I would choke on my drink, if I had any in hand. So instead, I just exhaled a sharp breath at the revelation that my stepbrother was upstairs.

"Jeremiah is a sweet boy. Don't mind him if he was being cold at first. I have no doubt that he would warm up to you soon." John said. They knew nothing.

I smiled. "Of course," He hugged me, and I watched them head out as they made it known that they weren't coming back home tonight.

On getting upstairs in my room, I started to bail myself out of the black body-con dress i had worn out earlier. The plan was to bath, face-time Sean and sleep. Talking about Sean, I had missed calls from him-calls I had stared at and purposely didn't pick because my mind was busy-occupied with something else.

After the bath, I was brushing my hair out when I paused, staring at my own reflection.

This couldn't go on. Whatever tension was between Jeremy and me, it was real. And ignoring it was only making everything worse.

We needed to talk. Get it over with. Clear the air or ruin it completely-either way, I was tired of pretending like the awkwardness between us didn't exist. He left the party way before I did and his father said he was indoors. This was the opportunity for me to talk to Jeremy because he was hardly at home according to our parents. This morning was my first time meeting him here since I had moved in.

I walked down the quiet hall to his room, heart thudding in my chest. My mother had showed me to different rooms when we got here and that was how I got to know where my stepbrother room was located upstairs.

His door was open. But I knocked still.

I swallowed as I prepared to call his name for the first time. At least-to him. "Jeremy?" I called softly, knocking once as I stepped in.

No answer.

He wasn't there. But his room...

It was nothing like I expected. For someone who looked like chaos, Jeremy's space was... pristine. Everything in place. Black bed-sheets tucked perfectly, desk lined with sketchbooks, bookshelves filled with motorcycle manuals, poetry books, and a few philosophy titles I didn't expect.

Bad boy Jeremy is a fan of poems? Unbelievable if you ask me.

But more than the neatness, his room smelled like him.

Like leather, clean soap, and something sharp and masculine that made my skin tighten. The air felt warmer in here, like his presence still lingered even though he wasn't in his room.

My feet moved on their own, past the large bed, eyes sweeping across his walls.

One of them was covered in paintings-dark, abstract, moody things. Faces hidden in shadows. Ink-drenched skies. One looked like a wolf surrounded by flames. If he painted these, then I was impressed. These were A-level professional paintings.

My gaze dropped to the corner, where a canvas sat propped up against the wall, covered in a black cloth.

Curiosity tugged at me.

I hesitated.

Then I pulled the cloth away.

...And I stopped breathing. I frowned. Did I have to go back to my room to use my glasses? Because...because there was no way it was me in that painting. It was my face, and surprisingly...my body. Jeremiah had a painting of me in his room.

I couldn't breathe.

In the painting, my body looked soft, skin bathed in colors that looked like candlelight, shadows falling in all the right places. My eyes were shut, lips slightly parted. I looked like I was dreaming something or someone was doing something to me. It reminded me of those quiet, longing thoughts I had only ever entrusted to my own heart

I took a step back. My fingers trembled. He hadn't even seen me me like this before, yet had drawn me this perfectly.

I took the painting into my trembling hands, blinking over and over. He saw me. He recognized me. Jeremiah drew me-ME

The door creaked and my body jolted.

I turned around just as Jeremy stepped into the room.

His eyes landed on the painting.

Then on me.

He was clad in black leather clothes from up to toe, black gloves on his hands. Hair melted together, dropped around his face like he had just toweled them dry. He looked like he was going for a ride.

The painting remained in my hand, and his sharp hypnotizing oceanic blue eyes remained on me.

"What the fuck are you doing in my room?" I wasn't expecting that. But I wasn't going to run off like I hadn't seen anything either.

"This is me...you have a painting of me." I said, not avoiding eyes contact even though it was torture looking at him like this.

He stormed towards me without words and snatched the painting from me. "Shit. You weren't supposed to see that."

"Why?" I asked. I wanted to know everything.

"Do you go around entering people's rooms and pulling covers off private things, Teyana?" His voice wrapped around my name like a challenge.

"Well, it is not so private anymore because that's me in there." I stated defiantly.

He took a step forward. I didn't move. He closed the space between us and my breath hitched. Memories of when we kissed flooded my head yet again.

I blinked as we looked into each other's eyes. I was slowly losing awareness of my surroundings, because all I could see was him.

"Get out," I jolted out of the cocoon I was in. Did he just order me to go out?

"No." I said with defiance. I deserved clarity. He couldn't do this to me. Then, with a look that held a trace of vulnerability and a tone so soft it sent chills through me, he said, "Teyana, please. Just go... before I do something I shouldn't."

A shiver ran down my spine as I felt his hand settle lightly on my waist. My whole body trembled. His blue eyes seemed darker now, intense with something unspoken. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. Did Jeremy... want me?

Has he always wanted me?

I didn't wait to find out. I turned to leave, but before I could reach the door, I heard his footsteps behind me. Then his arm circled my waist, pulling me back against him. I gasped.

His grip was firm, almost possessive. I didn't understand.

I felt his breath against my neck, warm and unsettling. "You want to talk?" His thumb brushed lightly over the skin above my waistband. "Or do you want me to show you exactly what I was thinking when I painted you?" His voice was low, breathless. Was he feeling this too?

My heart felt like it had stopped.

Then he turned me to face him, his eyes searching mine as if trying to see straight into my soul. In that moment, I felt completely unraveled. "Teyana," was all he breathed out before his lips met mine.

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was deep and consuming, as if he were trying to close every gap between us. I gasped, and he took it as an invitation to deepen the kiss, his mouth moving against mine with a urgency that left me dizzy.

I gripped his jacket just to keep myself steady. His body pressed firmly against mine, one hand cradling the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair as he angled my face to kiss me even deeper.

My back met the wall-I hadn't even realized we'd moved.

He let out a low sound against my mouth, his intensity undeniable. My own self-control vanished, a soft sound escaping me as I leaned into him.

He pulled back just enough to speak, his breath warm on my lips. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" His eyes held mine, dark and full of meaning. "I knew. I was here before your mom even introduced us."

I stared, confused.

He continued, his voice a rough whisper. "Imagine my surprise when my dad showed me your photo and said you were going to be my stepsister. I went to your room thinking you'd be there. Instead, I saw the book open on your bed."

My face grew hot. "You saw that?"

"Yeah. Turns out I wasn't the only one with a secret. I saw the note tucked inside-the one where you wrote about wishing Jeremy Carter could make those stories real for you."

I should have been embarrassed, but all I felt was a dizzying rush of emotion.

"Jeremy," I whispered as his face brushed against my neck.

His voice was strained. "Since that party... I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. You've been in my head this whole time."

His lips trailed from my jaw to my neck, and I arched toward him without thinking. Every touch felt electric, and I was painfully aware of how close we were.

In that moment, nothing else mattered-not the fact that he was supposed to be my stepbrother, not the rules we were crossing, not the consequences waiting ahead.

I just wanted more.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes burning into mine with a heat that made my breath catch. "Stay away from Zayne, Teyana. He's trouble."

It took me a second to even remember who he was talking about. Before I could ask, he kissed my forehead softly. Then his lips found mine again, and I gave myself over to it completely.

What I didn't know then was that I should have stopped it. I should have said no.

Because that was where it all began-the beginning of everything that would unravel after.

We laid there, tangled, gasping, wrecked. It was over, and I couldn't move. I had been unraveled completely that I couldn't imagine myself with anyone else. No one.

I realized at that moment that my crush, obsession or whatever I had for Jeremiah Carter had graduated to love. I was in love with my high school crush who was now my stepbrother.

His swear-slicked forehead pressed to mine, eyes half-lidded with what looked like guilt as he suddenly realized what pleasure had blinded him from realizing. "Teyana..."

His hand stopped moving as he pulled away from me and fell back to the bed. His breathing changed. He sat up slowly and dragged a palm down his face, like he was trying to wipe something off...regret, maybe. I turned my head just enough to watch him.

"What is it?" I asked softly.

He looked at me, eyes unreadable. "Tey..." he hesitated. "Shit. Did I...was that your first time?"

I blinked. The question wasn't accusatory. He looked guilty.

I could have teased him or shrugged it off like it didn't matter. But there was something raw in his voice, and I didn't want to ruin the honesty of what we'd just shared.

"Yes," I whispered. Not like I could lie. The evidence was on his black sheet, but not so visible.

His brows furrowed with concern against his handsome sweaty face. He looked away for a second, dragging a hand through his hair. "Goddamn it."

"Don't," I sat up beside him, placing my hand on his. "Don't you dare ruin this moment with guilt."

He turned to me. "I just..."

"I wanted it," I cut in. "I wanted it so much it scared me. And I'm glad it was with you."

He didn't speak right away. But he turned his hand, laced his fingers with mine. And that said more than anything else.

Then I asked, "when did you draw me?"

He didn't hesitate to reply. "After you were dared to kiss the hottest guy in the room." God. I didn't say anything afterwards. I just smiled.

Then, in a husky voice, he said, "Come on. Let's get cleaned up."

He led me to the bathroom, where warm steam rose around us. He moved with a deliberate slowness, his touch gentle as he washed my shoulders, my back. We stood under the spray, kissing without urgency, our touches softer now-tender, almost reverent.

He wanted to take me again but I was aching. I couldn't.

Being with Jeremy Carter like this felt like a dream come true. It was almost surreal.

Afterwards, he handed me one of his dark shirts and a pair of soft pants. They swallowed me whole, smelling distinctly of him-clean and familiar and comforting.

He looked at me, a faint smile on his lips. "You look good in my clothes."

"Good," I said, wrapping my arms around myself. "I'm keeping them."

He grabbed his black leather jacket, tossed me a helmet. "Come ride with me."

Oh, he asked me to bathe with him then ride with him? I'm fucked. The totally kind of 'fucked'

-

The engine of the bike roared beneath us like thunder, and I held him tighter, my arms wrapped snugly around his waist as we rode down the Pacific Ridge Highway. His scent filled my nose, the rush of the wind tearing through my hair, and the vibrations of the ride vibrating through my entire being. It felt like freedom.

I screamed into the wind, laughing like I hadn't in a while, burying my face in his back and placing a soft kiss between his shoulder blades.

"I feel like I'm flying!" I shouted.

"Of course you are," he called back over the wind. "With me."

He took us through winding country roads, past the ocean glimmering under moonlight, through the outskirts where stars peeked shyly behind dark clouds. I didn't care about consequences. Didn't think about our titles. I was his, and he was mine, at that moment.

When we got home, I was breathless and euphoric.

But the universe didn't let the bliss last forever.

Because...there, waiting outside the Carter huge mansion, was a girl.

She was tall, stunning, with legs for days, clad in a very short red gown that didn't leave much to imagination. Her perfectly manicured nails wrapped tightly around her phone as she paced in front of the door.

The moment she saw us pulling in, she lowered her phone and rushed toward Jeremy.

"Jer!" she shrieked, and before I could blink, she had jumped into his arms.

Then she kissed him.

Right in front of me.

Right on his mouth.

Not just a peck, but a full, possessive, I-know-this-is-mine kind of kiss.

I froze.

My legs stopped working. My chest caved in on itself, and I just stood there, blinking, still gripping the helmet like an idiot.

Jeremy didn't pull away from her.

When she pulled away, giggling and breathless, her eyes finally landed on me. Her brows lifted like she hadn't noticed me until now.

"Babe... who's that?" she asked, glancing between us.

Jeremy's jaw tensed. His arm was still around her waist.

He didn't even hesitate, "This is Teyana," he said coolly. "She's my stepsister."

Then he looked at me, like I was really just his stepsister. "Teyana, this is Bianca, my fiancee" He pulled her tighter into his embrace.

And just like that...

Nothing made sense anymore.