The cab ride seemed endless. Outside the window, Boston's streets blurred past in a haze of sunlight and shadows. I tapped my fingers against the edge of my seat, the excitement buzzing through my veins like electricity. In exactly one week, my life would officially start at college. One week until I stepped into a world entirely my own—one where I could be Amelia, not just "Jake's little sister."
I cranked up my headphones, letting Switchfoot's "Meant to Live" pound in my ears. Somehow, the rhythm mirrored the pounding of my heart. The city whizzed by, a mixture of honking cars, blinking lights, and impatient pedestrians. And yet, I felt an odd sense of calm.
Because soon, I would see him.
No—not my brother. Well… yes, Jake, too—but I was talking about the other one. The one who had somehow etched himself into my thoughts since the first moment I laid eyes on him in high school.Damien Wolfe. Jake's best friend. Every girl's nightmare. And apparently, my own.
I tried to push the thought away. Focus on college. Focus on freedom. Focus on the life I was about to start. Jake had promised he'd show me everything—the campus, the town, his friends, and all the secret spots that no freshman would ever know. And living with him? That was going to be… interesting, to say the least.
"Trust me, Amelia" Jake had said on the phone a few days ago, "you're going to love it here."
I smiled faintly at the memory. He had always known how to make me feel safe, how to make me excited for the smallest things. And yet, a part of me shivered at the thought of sharing a house with Damien, who—let's face it—made my stomach do somersaults whenever he was near.
I shook my head and looked out the window, trying to focus on the cityscape. Focus on anything other than the thought of amber eyes staring into mine.
The cab slowed and came to a stop in front of a pristine, white two-story house with a manicured lawn and a neatly paved driveway. The sun reflected off the windows, making me wince. My suitcase hit the ground with a soft thud, and I hurriedly paid the driver.
And then… I saw him.
Jake was standing at the front door, looking taller, broader, and even more handsome than I remembered. Sunlight kissed the sharp lines of his face, highlighting the golden tan he had earned from endless afternoons of football practice. And when he smiled, my chest swelled in a familiar warmth.
"I missed you," I breathed, rushing into his arms.
"Missed you more, Lia," he replied, ruffling my hair with a grin that made me want to laugh and sigh at the same time.
It felt… normal. Safe. Comforting. And yet, something told me that the moment I stepped inside, my world was about to tilt in directions I couldn't predict.
The house was just as I remembered—airy, sunlit, and comforting. But there were new additions: a black baby grand piano gleamed near the window, catching my attention immediately.
"You bought it?" I asked, half in disbelief.
He shrugged casually. "Figured you'd like it."
I let out a soft gasp, my hands clutching the straps of my bag. "You're kidding me."
Jake laughed, setting my suitcases down. "Go on, explore. I'll put your things away."
I wandered through the house, my eyes drinking in every detail—the organized bookshelves that made it feel like a personal library, the clean, polished floors, and the subtle coastal decor that made the house feel like a permanent vacation. My steps slowed as I entered the living room.
And then I saw him.
He was sleeping on the couch, face buried behind a thick book. His arms were lean, muscular in that effortless way that said he worked out without trying too hard. Black jeans. Simple black shirt. But somehow, even in simplicity, he looked impossibly perfect.
My chest tightened. Heat crawled up my neck. My hands twitched at my sides. Why was I—I—feeling like this over someone whose face I couldn't even see?
Hormones, right? That had to be it. I was eighteen. I was supposed to blush at a cute smile, not at a stranger lounging on my brother's couch like he owned the place.
Curiosity took over. I leaned in, just slightly, to see what he was reading. Microeconometrics in Business Management. Okay. Not a porn magazine. Small relief.
I reached out, fingers brushing the book gently, intending to move it off his face. And then—like something out of a nightmare—he flinched.
The next moment, he sat up abruptly, gripping my wrist with a strength that made me yelp. My breath caught in my throat. My knees felt like they were about to give way. And then… I saw his eyes.
Amber. Piercing. Sharp. And all-consuming.
For a heartbeat, the world stopped. My pulse thundered in my ears. My stomach twisted, and I realized I couldn't tear my gaze away. This was him. Damien Wolfe,Jake's best friend. The guy every girl wanted and every girl feared.
"You shouldn't sneak up on people," he said, low and dangerous, but with a teasing smirk tugging at his lips.
"I… I wasn't sneaking," I stammered, trying to free my wrist without looking like a complete fool. "I just… I—uh…" Words failed me entirely.
His grip didn't loosen. He leaned back slightly, eyes scanning my face as if memorizing every detail, every expression, every flicker of emotion. And I—stupidly, impossibly—leaned closer.
Heat. Desire. Nervousness. All tangled together like a wildfire in my chest.
"This is… your brother's place?" His voice dropped to a lower register, almost a purr. "You live here?"
I nodded, heart hammering like a drum. "Yeah. Well… my parents own it, technically. But now I'm staying with Jake."
His smirk widened just a fraction, but it didn't reach his eyes. There was something dangerous lurking there, a kind of awareness that made my pulse spike. He tilted his head slightly, amber eyes studying me, like he could see every secret thought in my mind.
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my racing heart. My thoughts were spiraling. Why is he looking at me like that? Why does it feel like he knows me already? And why do I…
"Relax," he finally said, releasing my wrist—but not completely. His fingers lingered just enough to make me shiver. "I don't bite… usually."
I wanted to laugh, but instead, my throat went dry. My gaze darted away, landing on the piano. Anything to avoid those amber eyes, but even as I moved, I felt them following me.
I could sense it. The tension. The unspoken rules. The dangerous attraction hovering like a storm about to break.
And somehow, deep down, I knew that my life had changed the moment I walked through that door. The moment I met Damien Wolfe, everything was different.
Everything.
Even my brother's warnings couldn't have prepared me for this.