Elara
There are three rules you should always follow. First, never kiss a man you have never met before. Second, never kiss a man who is so good-looking it feels dangerous. And third, most important of all, never kiss a man who is both of those things if you are sure you will never see him again.
The explanation is clear. If that man knows what he is doing, the feeling of his mouth on yours will stay with you forever. You will compare every other kiss to that one perfect moment.
I made an angry noise, pushing my face into the pillow before I made myself get up. Anderson has totally wrecked me. I kissed Jackson on the first day back at school, and it was nothing. It was nothing like Anderson's kiss, which was both soft and completely in charge. It did not have that perfect feeling of fire and need and something that was almost kind. It was just a kiss from Jackson. I shoved the thought aside as I walked into the bathroom.
If Jade gets here and I am not ready, she will lay on her car horn like a small, angry devil. I rushed back to my room to get dressed and gave myself one last check in the mirror. The dark roots of my hair made a strong line against the bright pink color falling over my shoulders. My father still has not gotten used to my hair. Sophia, my stepmother, loves it. I really do like her.
My phone buzzed on the dresser and I let out a breath. "I am not ready yet," I answered. Jade said, "I cannot take you today."
She is my best friend in our group, though all of us are tight. Since I do not have a car, because driving makes me too anxious, she is usually my ride to school. I hate going with my father. He asks way too many questions.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Yes," Jade said. I fell into my chair and scowled at my reflection. My blue eyes are the color of the sky after a storm has passed. Right now, they look nothing like Anderson's amazing ones. Fuck that man.
"Just a little dizzy. My sister is staying home to watch me."
Her older sister is in nursing school. They do all those nice, sisterly things together that I never had, since I grew up alone. I twisted a piece of my hair and nodded.
"I hope you feel better." A sound from outside caught my ear. I finished my eyeliner and hurried to the window. My father was coming from the backyard, holding a dead rabbit. "Goodbye."
"Bye. Try not to have too much fun without me."
I was still smiling after she hung up. There is no real fun without Jade. I leaned out my window. "Dad!" I called out. He waved. His shotgun was resting on his shoulder. He still loves to go hunting in the early morning. "Good morning."
"Morning, sweetheart." He stopped right under my window. My room is on the ground floor. "Did you sleep okay?"
"Yes. You are going to be late."
"I am the principal," he reminded me.
How did Sophia ever end up with this man from a tiny town? I closed the curtains and went back to the mirror. One last press of my lips together and I was done. I would have to callIris or just suffer a car ride with Dad. I hurried down the stairs, my books bumping in my backpack, and my steps got slower on the last one.
Sophia was not by herself in the living room. She was talking to someone sitting on the couch. It was not Dad; she never uses that scolding voice with him. I took the last step down, but neither of them saw me. She was blocking my view of the other person. With her hands on her hips and her back perfectly straight, I felt bad for whoever was getting that look. But that did not stop me from going to the kitchen to get some food.
I walked out of the kitchen holding a glass of milk and a plate of pancakes. Sophia was gone from the living room, but her guest was still there. His head was down over his phone, but he was not really looking at it. As I walked past his couch, he lifted his head for just a second and waited. I put the plate down on the dining table and walked right back to him.
What the hell?
Anderson had his ankles crossed, his arms spread out along the back of the couch, the couch my father bought after my mother passed away. His eyes moved over me in a slow, careful way, and I suddenly felt very aware of my pink long-sleeved shirt and my black jeans.
I rubbed my hands over my eyes and looked again. Anderson was still there, watching me with a confident grin. I moved toward him before my brain even told my legs to go. My hand came up in a clumsy wave.
"Hello. What are you doing here?"
His tongue moved over his bottom lip, and I was thrown right back into the memory of our kiss. I did not even see him stand up until his large hand was holding my jaw. The heat from his palm spread across my skin, and my cheeks got hot. Anderson is here. He is real.
"What are you…"
He took the rest of my words with a kiss, a painfully short one, and moved back. I let out an unsteady breath as he sank back into the couch. My thoughts rushed back in, and I panicked. In my father's house? I screamed inside my head.
What is wrong with me? Kissing a stranger in my own home. A stranger who could have been tracking me. No. Sophia seems to know him, so he cannot be some kind of creep. I dared another look at this man I both knew and did not know. Without the big beard and thick mustache, Anderson looked different, clean, and younger. The cut above his eyebrow was gone, too.
Why did it take him so long to show up? Sophia has been here for a month. If he had come when she did, I would never have kissed him.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
Anderson smiled, and a small dent appeared in his left cheek. His beard must have covered it before. My knees felt weak, my legs turning to liquid. He is so fucking good-looking it is just not right. My eyes dropped to his arms, and I wished he was wearing the tank top from that night, not a shirt that hid his tattoo. I put my hands behind my back as his attention returned to me.
"What do you think?" Anderson said, his voice full of playfulness.
Sophia walked into the living room then, saving me from the power of his stare. She pulled me into a hug that made me smile. Sophia is a good person. Maybe that is why Dad loves her.
"Good morning, Elara." She held me away from her, following my look to the young man sitting on our couch as if he owned it and might tell us to get out. Anderson's eyes sparkled, and I rolled mine. Now he knows my name.
"I see you have met your brother."
God, please no.
Brothers do not kiss their sisters. They do not leave them wanting more of their touch. That is what Anderson did to me. He walked over to us and hugged Sophia. She laughed as he gave her a loud, wet kiss on the cheek. There was no sign of the anger or irritation she had with him before.
"Elara, this is Anderson, your brother." He is not my brother. We are not family. To Anderson, she said, "Anderson, this is your sister. Be nice to her."
His nostrils widened. "Mum, I am always nice."
"Hmm, true," Sophia looked her son over and gave him a light tap on the head. She talked about having a son, her only child, but she did not say he was a grown man, a very handsome one at that. "Marcus is upstairs. He will be down in a minute." She giggled like a young girl saying my dad's name. Anderson and I exchanged a look. I was the first to turn away. I do not want him to be my brother. She took his hand. "He is so excited to meet you."
Guess who is not excited to meet him? Me.
Standing next to each other, the family look between them was clear. The same blue eyes. The same light brown hair. Sophia keeps her hair short, just longer than a bob, while Anderson's curls fall over his forehead. He could be my dad's son just from the eye color. Luckily, he is not. He is not my brother.
"Where is Jade?" Sophia asked me.
"She cannot come today," I answered, my eyes stuck on the floor. Our carpet is actually quite nice. "Is Dad ready? I might have to go with him."
Guiding me toward the dining table, she said, "Yes. He will be down any second. Finish your breakfast so he can take you to school."
"School?" Anderson asked.
"Yes, school. Carlton High. The best high school around here that is not too far away." My heart began to hammer. I kept my face empty and picked up my fork. Sophia sat at the head of the table. She is not helping me by giving Anderson that information so easily. "Her father is the principal."
A heavy silence filled the room. I did not dare look at Anderson, but I could feel his eyes on me. I took a bite of my pancake, which had lost all its flavor, and drank more milk to help it go down.
Why did he have to show up today?
Anderson picked up my backpack from the chair next to me. "Is this yours?" My tongue felt stuck in my mouth; all I could do was nod. He sat in the empty seat. His knee touched against mine, and my hold on the glass became desperate. I clenched my teeth as he put an arm over the back of my chair.
"I did not know you were in school, Elara." This was the first time he had said my name, and it sounded like the beginning of a song on his lips. "You do not look like you are still in high school, sis."
Because by nineteen, most people are in college, not high school. I might have left that part out.
"Really?" his mother cut in, coming to my rescue. I did not want her to. She does not know what I did. "Were you not in high school at seventeen?" Sophia added, a little too happily, and I got the feeling she was mad at her son. "Where would you prefer she be at her age? In college?"
"Wait a fucking minute. Elara is seventeen?"
"Anderson," his mother warned.
His head turned slowly toward me, the warmth in his eyes vanishing, replaced by a cold, hard look. A cold feeling went down my spine. The pancake got stuck in my throat, and I started coughing without any stop. Anderson was suddenly next to me, rubbing slow circles on my back until I could breathe again.
"Sorry, sis," he said, his voice as cold as his smile.
Fuck him. I am not, and will never be, his sister. He pulled a cloth from his pocket and handed it to me so I could clean up the mess I had made on the table. I took it with a big, completely fake smile.
"Thanks, bro."