MADISON

The first thing I did after draping myself in a towel was brush my teeth, gazing intently into the mirror, my thoughts beginning to wander until a voice snapped me back.

I turned to see Caden standing there. He must have been speaking for a while, but I had been too lost in thought to notice. Why had I left the door open?

"You're not seriously planning to use the bathroom now that I'm in here, are you?" I asked, adopting a defensive tone. You can never predict when he'll make a move.

His upper lip curled into an amused smirk.

"Am I invited?"

"No. Leave." Blushing and with my eyes rolling in mortification, I moved to close the door, ignoring his laughter and the thought he caused racing through my mind. Just as the door was nearly shut, his hand pressed flat against it, halting my effort.

Not now!

"Cad—" I began wearily, toothbrush still lodged in my mouth.

"Why do you have an electric toothbrush and use it alone in the bathroom?" he asked, his question momentarily throwing me off.

"Duh, to brush, obviously. In the proper place for it," I gestured to the foam filling my mouth.

Caden nodded, a crook smile tugging at the corners of his lips before suggestively biting his lower lip. He released the door and crossed his arms to his chest, his gaze laced with heinous flirting and suspicion.

Wait, what? Is he seriously thinking what I know he is thinking?

"I've heard it has... alternative uses," he shrugged, his smirk dripping with innuendo.

Ugh!

"Your mind is always in the gutter. Get out of here." Blushing, I shoved him while he laughed even more and finally shut the door, left alone with the ridiculous temptation to entertain his insinuation.

After five seconds of listening to the devil on my shoulder whispering, I finalized; absolutely not. My toothbrush has only one purpose and it is to go into my mouth.

As I stood under the warm stream of the shower, I tried to push away the painful reality. The reality that I would never truly understand Caden, that he wouldn't let me in, and the reality that I longed for him to do so, making me feel miserable and pathetic for caring.

Wrapping a medium-sized towel around my damp body, I spent extra moments drying my hair before stepping out of the bathroom.

The living room was vacant, just like the kitchen I passed through. Even the table was tidily arranged.

Strange.

Tightening the towel around my chest, a habitual gesture from growing up, I headed to my room.

And there he was again!

"What are you doing here?" I asked, puzzled, upon seeing him lying on my bed beneath the comforter.

I need to play it cool, even though I secretly enjoyed the sight of him on my bed, his bare, chiseled torso exposed. Those defined muscles, curving outward, showcased his physical prowess, and his alluring hair made it hard to look away.

The things I want to do with him... no! I don't.

"My bedroom door got jammed. I'll need a door doctor, but they're not available until Monday," he explained, realizing the weekend was approaching. A smirk played on his lips, and my skin tingled for his touch.

"I saw you leaving your room when I came in," I continued, maintaining my reasonable façade.

"Yes, the mishap occurred after I grabbed some clothes to take to the laundry room."

"Caden, we can't share a bed."

"Sure we can," he insisted, pulling the covers aside. I almost closed my eyes, but then he added, "And look, I've got my boxers on. No need to freak out." The humor was evident in his tone.

He grinned mischievously, and I couldn't help peeking shamelessly at the tight black boxers clinging to his skin, accentuating his masculine form.

"I'm not afraid of anything," I whispered, feeling heat spread across my face as I bit my lip.

"You practically jumped out of bed the first time I lay naked here."

True.

"I'll sleep on the couch," I declared, heading for the closet to grab my nightwear.

I sensed him sit up, and he defended himself, "The bed is big enough for both of us."

Indeed, I knew that. Compared to the first time we slept together, when we nestled in each other's arms on the living room couch, the bed felt excessively spacious.

With feigned reluctance, I turned to face him, hoping my excitement wasn't too obvious. "Caden."

"It's not like we haven't shared a bed before," he shrugged. "Right now, it's just sleeping and sharing a comforter. Nothing more, PG-13 style." He wore an innocent smile, effortlessly handsome.

"That's all?" I pressed my lips together to suppress a smile.

"Yes. I'll take one end, and you take the other. You can use pillows as a barrier if you want."

"No need for that," I openly declared.

"Cool." He grinned.

I was probably blushing like a teenager already.

After changing into a pink shorts and a white tank top, I turned off the bathroom light and entered my room, where Caden was spending the night—more accurately, the entire weekend, as he'd mentioned.

The room was dim, with only the lamp by the side of the bed providing illumination.

He lay at the far end of the bed, eyes closed. It seemed he might be asleep.

I settled under the covers and sighed audibly, his rhythmic breathing providing a soothing backdrop. My gut dared me to sneak a look. I succumbed to the challenge and turned onto my side.

Caden's thick, long eyelashes and well-defined nose were noticeable even as he slept. His jawline was sharp, and his inherent beauty seemed to enhance, which was almost absurd.

I couldn't resist the urge to trace my fingers gently along his jawline for a moment.

"Why are you so charming?" I whispered. The question was meant for him, but in that quiet dimness, I found myself asking it to the room itself.

I continued to gaze at the peaceful sight of my sleeping companion. Sleeping beauty wasn't just a fairy tale; it was a charming male right beside me.

My tongue glided over my dry lips, and I swallowed, willing myself to sleep.

Turning onto my other side, I switched off the lamp and sighed.

"I had to wash away all the effort I put into cooking dinner since you didn't eat anything."

What?

My heart raced upon hearing his deep voice, laced with humor.

Bravo! I should give myself a pat on the back for being an embarrassingly eccentric stepsister. I just humiliated myself.

"Are you... awake?" I stumbled over my words.

"Hmm," he stifled a laugh.

I wanted to slap myself in the darkness. I had asked the guy why he was charming, and not stopping there, I went ahead and touched him.

"Damn it!" I muttered under my breath.

With closed eyes, I inquired, "You knew when I came in?"

"Yes, and even more so when you were staring and exploring," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"No need to apologize," he assured, and I felt the bed shift as he moved closer. His warmth enveloped me as he whispered, "It was comforting."

"Cool," I took a deep breath and turned toward him. "Sorry I didn't eat much. I got carried away..."

"Yeah," his response carried a smile, soothing my anxiety.

"But I'm not hungry," I assured, genuinely grateful for his effort in preparing dinner for me.

"I am," he declared unexpectedly.

"What?" I blinked, though he couldn't see me in the darkness.

He shifted even closer. His breath brushed against my face, his body heat mingling with mine. He whispered, "I wish we had brought the fork."

Thank goodness, my blush couldn't be seen in the dark. "Oh, right. Yes."

Then he touched me—his fingers grazed over my bare arm, leaving a burning sensation wherever they passed. "Can we argue?" he exhaled, his breathing mirroring my own, fast and intense.

"You said it would be PG-13," I playfully murmured.

"Yes, thirteen years, people argue."

A small laugh escaped me. "Clever."

"Indeed," Caden replied just before his lips met mine. The kiss was a tension-reliever, yet it only scratched the surface of the stirring emotions building within me.

"Caden," I mumbled against his lips.

We both took deep breaths. His hand reached my nape, pulling me closer, while my hands pressed against his bare, solid chest.

He moaned, his voice a seductive plea. "Shhh, Maddie. Argue with me."

There's something ineffable about the sensation of his body pressed against mine, a bliss that only emotions can truly describe.

His lips leave mine, trailing down the curve of my jaw and settling into the crook of my neck, his breath warm against my skin. He lingers there, sucking gently at that damn spot, igniting something electric with his soft, wet kisses. It's as if there's a nerve directly linked to my core because, God, she's throbbing, desperate for relief I can't seem to give.

Caden is now fully over me, one leg nestled between mine, spreading them apart, his half-naked body draped across mine in an embrace both overpowering and perfect. I can feel the hardness of him pressing against my hip, clouding my thoughts with desire.

"This is definitely not PG-13, Caden," I manage, breathless.

"And what is it, then?" he murmurs, his lips capturing my earlobe as I exhale a soft moan.

"Sixteen," I pant, my body writhing beneath him, hips instinctively grinding against the rigid heat of him.

"That's a stretch. This is more like fourteen," he groaned as my hip continued rubbing him.

His hand slipped beneath my tank top, sending a shockwave through me as his touch ignited my skin, goosebumps breaking down in every inch of me.

My throat feels raw, my voice thick and hoarse when I ask, "Then what would fifteen be?"

He breathes a low chuckle, and before I can react, his teeth graze my hardened nipple through my tank top, pulling a sharp gasp from my lips.

"This is," he whispers, before capturing my lips once again.

"Oh!" Thank God the lights are off, because I'm blushing furiously.

"Yup," he breathes against my mouth, his lips brushing over mine. I want him. "Whatever you do with your little brush—that's PG-16."

I blink, my mind stumbling. "I don't do anything with my brush."

"Oh, really?" His voice is thick with amusement, though his hands continue their teasing path across my abdomen.

"You don't?" His tone darkens with a lustful edge.

"What could I possibly do with it, Caden?" Damn, did I just challenge him?

"Not as good as my hand, but it could manage in my absence." He brags.

"I don't do anything."

"So, you're telling me you're an innocent girl."

I nodded in the dark, biting back a grin. "Uh-huh."

"Let's put that to the test then," he whispers, his fingers dangerously lowering, my heartbeat intensifying.

"Caden, this isn't a PG-13 path." Sounding breathless.

"It's diplomatic negotiation. Very essential for avoiding fights." He lies with a smirk, his hand slipping under my shorts.

He's going to find out just how soaked I am. And I am going to let him because my body is the one in charge and she desperately wants him.

"And what if it only escalates the tension?" I murmur, my hips practically writhing to meet his nearing touch.

"Then the conflict intensifies," he answers, pressing his lips to mine again, his tongue sweeping into my mouth as his fingers finally find their mark. My body shudders as his touch slides against my slick heat. "Not so innocent, Mad," he teases.

Normally, I would be embarrassed, but it's like I'm on some drug. "I want to touch you, too," I blurt out.

Yes, definitely on drugs.

He hesitates for a moment, his lips pausing on mine. Is he going to stop? But in the next breath, he exhales a low, seductive, "Let's see where this diplomatic negotiation leads, then." He shifts, positioning his body so I can reach the bulge in his boxers. With a trembling hand, I release him, feeling the weight of him in my palm as his fingers continue their sinful exploration inside my shorts.

The next few moments are filled with nothing but soft moans, shared between us, in the quiet—and it's the most intoxicating feeling.

***

Last night would remain etched in my memory forever. While we hadn't gone beyond PG-16, Caden was gentle and tender. He kissed with care, held me close, and his fingers traced soothing patterns on my skin until I drifted to sleep.

It was a stranger who had shared my bed last night, and I couldn't help but wish he could stay.

For the first time, I glimpsed that soft side of Caden. It existed within him, concealed behind the arrogance he usually displayed.

The morning sunlight streamed through the sliding curtains as I woke up with a smile on my face.

Beside me, Caden was already awake, his gaze fixed on the white ceiling above us.

"Hey, good morning," I whispered. "You're up early."

However, when he didn't turn or acknowledge my greeting, I reached out and touched his jaw. His reaction startled me. My heart knocked in the wall of its cage.

"Do not touch me," he growled, quickly moving away from the bed.

"Caden..." I sat up abruptly, wide-eyed, confused by his sudden shift in demeanor.

He interrupted me, his palm held up to halt me. "Just stop, okay? Stop trying."

His eyes were dark, devoid of the usual hazel warmth. What had happened? "There's nothing between us, and nothing will ever happen," he spat angrily.

Reality came crashing down on me. The fantasy dream that had introduced me to a different side of Caden faded away.

"Are we back to... how things were?" My throat tightened, making it hard to swallow.

I struggled to understand his illogical arguments. Why did he always push me away?

He held my gaze for a brief moment before his voice turned raspy. "I'm going out."

No, he couldn't just leave without an explanation. Yesterday had been real, he had been real. I couldn't let this absurd reality take over.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and followed him, my outfit consisting of tiny shorts and a tank top. "Why are you doing this?" I asked, frustrated and desperate to understand him.

"Stop following me," he snapped roughly, not even bothering to turn around as he unlocked his bedroom door.

"The door was unlocked, wasn't it?" I exclaimed, my frustration growing. Last night wasn't a dream; he had wanted to share a bed with me, to kiss me—or argue, as he called it. He had held me as I fell asleep.

With hands on my hips and my heart racing, I scoffed. "All I see is you fighting something you won't let me in on."

His back was still turned to me, and his voice rumbled with warning. "Mad, get out of my sight."

I wasn't leaving without an explanation. I deserved answers; I was the one left confused and hurt.

Instead of obeying, I stepped closer, determined to make him understand. "What's going on, Caden? Why are you kind one moment and angry the next? Why send mixed signals and then blame me? What are you so afraid of?"

"Nothing, get out," he replied, his body visibly tense. His fists were clenched, and his muscles were taut, but he avoided meeting my eyes.

"What do you mean, 'nothing'? Normal people don't act this way. You're unpredictable, always toying with my emotions. Why? Why punish me for things that aren't my fault? Why be cruel and then ignore my feelings? That's not 'nothing,' Caden." I practically shouted, challenging him to face me. But he remained resolute, his tension only increasing.

"Why won't you talk to me? Just talk, please. I'll understand. I'm your stepsister, your family," I begged, finally reaching out and placing my hand on his back.

He stiffened and turned to face me. His flushed complexion and clenched jaw gave him a sharp, dangerous appearance. His intense gaze was like a dagger, his cold smile not quite reaching his eyes. It was unsettling, but I needed answers.

"I refuse professionals, so why would I talk to a quack therapist like you?" His words were cutting, his tone icy. "The reason you have no clients is obvious. You can't even fix your own messed-up life, yet you keep trying to help others. Healing isn't as simple as kissing me, making me sleep with you, and thinking I'll fall in love with you. Wake up, kid. This isn't a fairy tale. This is reality. I hate your existence. I wish you'd just disappear and never come back. You're like a disease, and that's why you always feel left out. Stop trying to claim a place in my family. You're not one of us, and you never will be."

His words thundered in my ears, accusing and persecuting. I felt my knees grow weak, unable to muster a comeback or refute his claims. Perhaps a part of me knew he was right, but I was taken aback by his audacity.

His cold stare bore into me, his voice devoid of emotion. "Now get out of my room."