Playing with fire

1208 Words
Chapter three — Playing with fire Seth's Pov The look on Phoebe's face was the same when she realized it was me reading her letter. It refused to leave my head. Those wide blue eyes, the way her cheeks flushed bright red—almost matching the color of her embarrassment. She looked like she wanted the ground to open and swallow her. Pathetic and strangely…. Entertaining. I thought she was just another quiet, boring girl, who followed Conrad around like a lost puppy. But after reading what she wrote? f**k. This girl had a filthy mouth behind that innocent face. When dad told me his new wife would be moving in today with her daughter, I didn't think much about it. Until I saw her standing by the pool side, staring at me like I was a ghost. The shock on her face when I told her I was her stepbrother? Priceless. Those big blue eyes went even wider. Her cheeks turned that same pretty shade of red again. I couldn't lie…. I liked it. She balled her fist at the side of her dress, her brows folded. “You can't be Daniel's son. He's so nice, and you're…” she paused. With a hard glare, she continued. “... You're the devil.” I cackled in surprise at her choice of words. I have been called many things but the devil? “You're just angry because I have your letter.” I reminded her with a light grin. Her expression shifted immediately. “I want that letter back…” her gaze drifted from my face to where my bag pack was. Before I could speak, she rushed forward with a determined grin. “I’ll just get it myself.” She searched my bag and pulled the envelope out, but I snatched it from her, my hand wrapped around her tiny wrist. “Don’t touch my stuff.” “Let go of me!” Phoebe snapped, trying to hit me. I grabbed her waist and easily lifted her off the ground. Before she could protest, I tossed her straight into the pool. She gasped in shock as she hit the water. “I don’t like feisty girls, kitty cat,” I said, smirking as I watched her flail. “I can’t swim!” she screamed, panic clear in her voice. “Seth!” Fuck. I dove into the pool without thinking and swam toward her. The moment I got close, she latched onto me like a terrified koala—arms wrapped tightly around my neck, legs locked around my waist. “Hold on,” I muttered, trying to keep us both afloat. She was breathing hard against my neck, her body pressed flush against mine. When I shifted to get a better grip, my hand accidentally brushed over her breast. “You pervert!” she shrieked, slapping my chest hard. I immediately let go, but she couldn’t swim, so I had no choice but to grab her again, holding her firmly against me. “Give me my letter back!” she demanded, still clinging to me like her life depended on it. Her legs tightened around my waist as she tried to choke me with her arms. Was this girl actually crazy? A sharp voice sliced through the air, and she finally let me go. “Phoebe!” The rage in Phoebe's eyes matched the annoyance in mine as I swam both of us out of the pool. “What's going on here?” dad asked, staring at both of us. “Nothing much, dad,” I said with a light chuckle. “I was just telling my stepsister here that she shouldn't go into the pool if she can't swim.” Phoebe rolled her eyes, but she wasn't dumb, so she played along. “Yes mom, Seth was helping me.” Her smile was as fake as her love for Conrad. Her mom smiled at both of us. “I’m happy you both are getting along.” I watched dad nod and smile at her. He looked…genuinely happy, lighter than I'd seen him in years. She wasn't so bad, I guess. She made him smile like that. My fingers unconsciously moved to the pendant hanging around my neck. I rubbed the small locket between my thumb and forefinger, feeling the familiar shape of my mother’s picture inside. I missed having a mother. Not that I’d ever admit it out loud. “You kids should change into dry clothes or else you'll catch a cold, okay?” she said, Phoebe nodded, pushing me away lightly. She glared at me once before storming off with her mom. She can keep simping for Conrad all she wants. But now? She's living under my roof. And I have her most embarrassing, dirtiest secrets in my hands. This is going to be fun. ********* “The food is really nice, Mr Astor.” Phoebe said after a moment of silence. “Call me Daniel Phoebe. The pleasure is mine,” Dad replied. She let out a small smile. “Okay.” “You know…” Dad began, dropping his fork. “Seth, you should hang out with Phoebe more often. She's very smart and intelligent, that's why she wins scholarships for the school every year. Maybe she can rob off on you.” A low chuckle escaped my lips. “Alright, dad.” I felt Phoebe's eyes on me. When I glanced at her, she quickly lowered her gaze, but not before I caught her staring. It was almost cute. Soft silence stretched between us. I leaned back against the dining chair, watching dad and Phoebe's mom laugh over something trivial. I waited until there was a comfortable lull in the conversation before I spoke. “Dad, I have something to show you and Aunt,” I said casually, reaching into my pocket. Phoebe’s head snapped up so fast I almost laughed. Her eyes widened in pure panic as she stared at my hand. The color drained from her face in seconds. She looked like she was about to pass out. Perfect. I pulled out the folded piece of paper slowly, deliberately dragging out the moment. Phoebe’s hands gripped the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles turned white. I could practically hear her heart hammering from beside me. Oh, kitty cat... if only you knew. “This letter,” I continued, holding it up between two fingers, “was given to me today.” Phoebe looked seconds away from bolting out of her seat. Her blue eyes were locked on the paper like it was a live grenade. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. She was clearly panicking, imagining the worst—me reading her filthy little confession to the entire table. I fought back a smirk. Dad raised an eyebrow, curious. “A letter? From who?” I glanced at Phoebe one more time. She looked like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. Her cheeks were already turning that pretty shade of red. I was starting to enjoy it far too much. This was too easy. I unfolded the paper with deliberate slowness, letting the tension build just a little longer.
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