The house was quiet. Mom and Dad had fallen asleep on the couch again, the late-night movie still playing softly. Riley lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark, heart racing for reasons she refused to name.
At twenty-one, she should have been used to living with her stepbrother, but the tension between them had only grown worse over the last year. Jax, tall, broad-shouldered, with messy dark hair had become impossible to ignore. He was twenty-four, worked construction, and carried himself with that quiet, brooding confidence that made her thighs squeeze together whenever he walked into a room.
She heard her bedroom door open.
Riley sat up quickly, pulling the sheet over her tank top and panties. Jax slipped inside, closing the door behind him.
“Jax… what the hell are you doi
