Every glance, every brush of Jason’s hand against mine, every smirk that lingered too long—it all reminded me of that moment we had crossed a line we could never uncross.
I wanted him. That much was undeniable. But every time my heart screamed yes, my mind screamed no.
We weren’t just two reckless teenagers caught up in a whirlwind of attraction. We were step-siblings, bound by our parents’ marriage, living under the same roof.
It wasn’t just messy—it was dangerous.
⸻
Jason, of course, didn’t seem bothered.
One evening, I found him lounging on the couch, shirt half unbuttoned, flipping through channels with maddening ease. When he saw me, his lips curved into that cocky smile that both infuriated and weakened me.
“Still avoiding me, Princess?” he teased, patting the seat beside him.
