The morning light streamed through Avery's curtains, soft and golden, but it did nothing to ease the tight knot in her chest. She sat up in bed slowly, her fingers brushing against her lips—lips that still remembered the way Max had kissed her last night.
The memory hit like a wave: the way his hands had gripped her arms, the heat of his breath, the way he’d said it should’ve been him. Her heart thudded at the thought, and a flush rose to her cheeks.
And then, the guilt.
He was her stepbrother.
They weren’t blood, sure—but they lived in the same house, shared a family, shared memories. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to want it. But she had. And she still did.
Shaking herself free of the thought, Avery pulled on an oversized hoodie and tied her hair into a messy bu
