Desired by Two brothers

Chapter 4 Please Stay Away from Me

My room was tucked away at the very end of the attic. It looked like a makeshift room, probably turned into a bedroom out of a storage space. At least Lena had given me a room of my own, somewhere I could hold on to what little dignity I had left.

My meager belongings were already set by the bed. The room was sparsely furnished with just a tiny bed and a big wooden box for storage. The only window was covered in thick vines, and Lucy handed me a pair of scissors to deal with it.

I hadn't exactly gotten around to learning much about gardening, but I guess now was as good a time as any to start practicing.

To make sure the sunshine could beam through the cold world and find the girl who turned sixteen, I decided to work on it now.

I carefully pushed the window open, but my attempt startled the local wildlife. A huge, ugly spider leaped through the gap and landed right on my freshly made bed.

I couldn't hold it in and screamed bloody murder.

Out of nowhere, Dylan appeared in my doorway, asking what was going on.

I just pointed at the spider. His face lit up like he won the lottery. He turned around and ran downstairs, then came back moments later with a can of insect spray.

He stood in the doorway and sprayed the liquid into my room like he was shooting confetti at a party. The smell was so strong, and I thought I might suffocate before the spider did. I shouted at him, "Dylan, enough! Stop!"

But he didn't listen. He climbed onto my bed and started spraying from up there, like he was some kind of giant watering my room with poison. The stench filled the air, and soon, my pillow was soaked in the stuff.

"I can't live like this!" I shouted while pinching my nose. I was used to Dylan's pranks, but this was too much. The smell was so strong that it nearly made me vomit.

"Then don't," Dylan said casually while tossing the can aside. It hit the floor with a loud clang, almost like he'd dropped a match in a room full of gasoline.

I stood on the floor and stared up at him. A wave of frustration hit me, and my eyes started to water.

Dylan looked at me and didn't seem as happy as he expected.

I couldn't take it anymore and shouted in a shaky voice, "What did I do to you? Why do you hate me so much?" It was my birthday, and I'd planned to just get through it. I didn't need anyone to remember it or love me. I just wanted to live a quiet, ordinary day.

But Dylan, the damn devil, couldn't even let me have that.

"Don't stay here," Dylan suddenly said. He sat down and roughly rubbed my face with his hand.

I looked at him, barely holding back tears. I knew Dylan hated me, and honestly, I didn't want to be around him either, but there was nowhere else I could go. Staying at their house was my only choice.

I rarely saw him so unsure of himself, and I felt like he was going to scrub my skin off with the way he was rubbing my face.

"Stop it!" I pushed his hand away, sniffling. "Let's go out. I can't handle the smell in here."

"Did the strong smell make your eyes red?" Dylan teased me with that annoying smirk while getting closer and closer to my face.

My heart pounded violently, and I could barely stand it. I clenched my fist and swung it toward Dylan's stomach.

He wasn't expecting it at all. He stumbled back a step and covered his belly, his eyes wide in shock as he looked at me.

The instant the punch landed on him, I snapped out of my anger. Oh crap! What did I just do?

Hitting my creditor was so different from fighting off a spider.

I wanted to apologize, but when the words finally came out, they became "Please just stay away from me."

Dylan gave me a hard look and snapped, "Fine, Nora. You'll regret that."

He stood up and walked out without another word. He slammed the door with a bang so loud that everyone in the house could hear.

Dust fell from the ceiling, and I sat there in silence, hugging my knees, feeling just as empty as the room around me.

I didn't know what to make of all this.

After a minute, I pulled myself together and changed into something else. I didn't forget my job. I still needed to help Lucy with dinner.

As I passed the third floor, I paused for a second. I glanced over at Declan's room. A beam of light flickered from the gap under his door, and I found myself drawn toward it, my feet moving on their own.

I crept up to the door, peeking through the crack. He was sitting in a chair, reading a book, with glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. I'd never seen him wear glasses before. The look suited him and gave him an intellectual and calm vibe that made him seem even more distant.

But wow, he was still so damn attractive. How I wished I could just be that book... His fingers would gently trace down my spine, and his eyes behind the glasses would only look at my face...

My imagination started to run wild. And before I realized it, I bumped my head against the door. The sound was loud enough for Declan to look up from his book.

Without thinking, I ran away and rushed into the kitchen, still covering my chest, trying to steady my breathing.

Would he know it was me? Would he come looking for me?

Ugh, what was I even thinking?

Lucy and I worked together to get dinner ready for the Adams family. While she was doing her things, she explained the preferences and tastes of each family member. Of course, I was familiar with Declan and Dylan's preferences, so I only had to make sure I kept Lena's dislikes in mind.

As dinner time approached, Lucy and I set the table and brought the food out.

The family members had already gathered around, except for Declan.

I wondered if he was still reading.

Then Dylan scanned the table before heading to the kitchen. I couldn't help but glance at him, a little worried that I'd somehow messed something up and he was about to mock me.

A moment later, Dylan returned with a 1-liter bottle of milk.

It reminded me that Lucy had asked me to bring it to the table. I'd completely forgotten it.

I must've looked more flustered than I realized, because Victor explained with a smile, "Dylan needs milk with every meal. He's trying to grow taller than Declan."

"Dad!" Dylan snapped, his ears turning bright red, and he turned his back to hide his embarrassment.

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. I looked at Dylan—already nearing 6 feet tall—I couldn't help but wish he never succeeded. Honestly, it was already enough.

Just then, Declan walked over to the table, glancing at the plates. My anxiety shot back up. I prayed in my mind that Declan wouldn't tell me I missed something with his preferences.

Declan turned toward me and asked, "Nora, where's your place setting?"