Just My Step Sister
912 Words
~William~
I had spent the better part of the night staring at the ceiling, my lips still burning from a kiss that should have never happened. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw those chocolate-colored irises challenging me.
By the afternoon, I needed to drown out the noise in my head. I hit the private gym at the athletic club, pushing myself through a brutal set of squats. The burn in my muscles was the only thing that felt real.
My gym friend, Alex, was leaning against a weight rack nearby, scrolling through his own phone between sets. We had known each other for a long time now and we are close and he's one of the few people who didn't care about my last name, which was probably why I tolerated his constant talking.
Ping.
The sound of a text notification cut through the heavy beat of the gym’s music. My phone was sitting on the bench next to Alex.
"Yo, Will, you got a text," Alex called out, not looking up.
"Never mind it," I grunted, my teeth grit as I pushed the heavy barbell up for another rep. "I’m not finished with this set."
"It's from someone named... Isabel?" Alex said, his tone suddenly shifting from bored to curious.
The weight didn't just feel heavy anymore; Isabel ? The second the name left his mouth, my focus snapped. I racked the barbell with a loud, metallic clang that echoed through the room.
I didn't even stop to wipe the sweat from my forehead before I stepped toward him and snatched the phone out of his hand.
I swiped the screen open. My heart did a weird, jagged little kick against my ribs when I saw her name. One text
“Isabel: Where are you?”
It was a simple question. Short. Almost blunt. But coming from her, after the way we had left things in my study, it felt like something more than a simple text.
"In the gym," I typed back, my thumbs moving faster than my brain could tell them to slow down.
"Whoa," Alex let out a low whistle, a massive grin spreading across his face. "I have never seen you move that fast for a text in my entire life. Not even for a closing deal. Who is this Isabel? Is she that new rival to Juliana?
I stuffed the phone into my pocket, trying to look like I didn't care, though my pulse was still racing. "No. That’s my step-sister."
Alex froze, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. "Your step-sister? The one you spent the last month telling me you absolutely dislike?
The one you said was a 'gold-digging distraction'?"
"I do dislike her," I snapped, grabbing a towel to finally wipe my face.
"Right," Alex teased, crossing his arms. "That’s why you almost dropped a couple hundred pounds of iron just to answer her within three seconds. I’ve never even seen this girl. How does she look? Is she pretty? Or is she just... 'sisterly'?"
The word 'pretty' didn't even begin to cover it, but I wasn't about to tell Alex that. I thought about the way she looked in the dim light of my study—the soft curve of her neck, the way her eyes flashed when she was angry.
"She’s... a Mayfield," I said, which was the most non-committal answer I could give. "It’s complicated."
"Everything with you is complicated," Alex laughed, shaking his head. "But seriously, what about Juliana? You guys dated back in the university days. I know it ended, but you’ve been seeing her a lot lately. Everyone thinks you two are getting back together."
Juliana. She was the daughter of one of my father’s oldest business partners. She was polished, wealthy, and knew exactly which wine to pair with dinner.
We had been the perfect couple on paper, but the spark had died out long ago. Now, we are just trying to merge a few businesses together.
"It’s just business, Alex," I said firmly. "We meet because we have a contract to finalize. That’s it."
"Is it just business, though?" Alex asked, his eyes turning serious for a second. "Because Juliana doesn't look at you like a business partner. She looks at you like a prize she’s trying to reclaim.
“And if your 'step-sister' is as interesting as that text reply suggests, things are about to get really messy in that mansion of yours."
I didn't answer. I couldn't. I looked at my pocket where my phone was tucked away, waiting for it to buzz again. Alex was right about one thing: it was messy.
I was supposed to be the guy who had everything under control. I was supposed to be investigating my mother’s past and keeping the interlopers away from the Sterling fortune. But one four-word text from Isabel Mayfield had me more distracted than a million-dollar business deal ever could.
"Let’s just get back to the workout," I muttered, turning away from Alex's prying eyes.
But as I grabbed the weights, I wasn't thinking about my form. I was wondering why Isabel wanted to know where I was. Was she looking for another fight? Or was she, like me, unable to forget the way the air felt between us when we we're together in my private study?
I hated that I wanted to know the answer. I hated that I was already checking my phone again before the next set.
- Writer
