Oops, I Stole His Nephew

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Kissed me and now you're playing amnesia? A rough, sleep-heavy voice vibrated right against my collarbone.

The blood drained from my face as the realization of last night's blackout at my professor's house crashed over me. Silas. The untouchable son of my ruthless mentor was currently tangled in my arms.

My lungs forgot how to work.

Cold sweat slicked my shaking palms.

I scrambled frantically to throw myself off the edge of the mattress. A heavy grip clamped down on my waist, yanking me back.

The cold metal zipper of my top was locked dead into the fabric of his collar. Heavy footsteps pounded against the floorboards right outside the door.

"Paige?"

Chapter 1

The first time I met my professor's precious son, he was tangled in my arms. Sleeping like an angel, his hands perfectly behaved. But why the hell was he in my bed?

A cold sweat broke across my spine. I kicked out hard.

The guy startled awake. He had the kind of breathtaking, deep-set eyes that belonged on a billboard. He rubbed his side. "Ouch."

My jaw dropped.

"Creep! Who are you?" My shaking hands scrambled blindly over the sheets for my phone. Instead, I grabbed a leather belt.

"You kissed me, and now you're pretending you don't know me?" He shot me a ridiculously wounded look.

"I I blacked out."

Dead silence filled the room.

"Silas." He tilted his head, his dark gaze locking onto mine.

Silas? If my alcohol-soaked brain was working correctly, my ruthless mentor's son was named Silas.

"This is a massive misunderstanding!" I reached out to grab his arm, desperate to explain.

But his eyes flicked to my hand, and his pupils dilated. "Can we talk like civilized adults? Put the belt down."

I froze. I looked down. I was death-gripping a Gucci belt. Then I looked back at him.

He looked pale and fragile, like a stiff breeze could knock him over. Somebody kill me now.

I chucked the belt across the room. "No, wait I swear I wasn't going to hit you."

"Right. Totally believable." He gave me a dry look. "Unhook me. I'm suffocating."

My stomach dropped. That was when I realized the zipper of my top was completely snagged on his collar.

"Don't snap at me. It's not my fault you need the bathroom," I muttered, frantically wrestling with the metal teeth.

"You want to help me walk there?"

I wanted the floor to swallow me whole.

I finally yanked the zipper free, scrambled off the mattress, and bolted out the door. I sprinted into the hallway without looking back.

The surroundings didn't look like my apartment. Then it hit me like a freight train. I was at my professor's house. I came over yesterday for the holidays. How did I end up

My academic career was officially dead.

"Paige."

My mentor's wife called out my name. The blood drained from my face.

"Morning. Good morning." I plastered my back against the wall, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

The look she gave me was absolute gold.

"Did you not sleep well last night, Paige?" she asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

"Great. I slept great. Really great!" Please buy this. My fingers dug into the hem of my shirt.

"Your professor went out for a morning run. If you're hungry" She trailed off, clearly weirded out by my manic expression.

"I'm not hungry!" I cut her off too fast. "I'll wait for him to get back."

"Good girl." She gave me an approving smile. Then she turned and walked straight toward Silas's bedroom door.

I lunged forward and planted myself right in front of the wood paneling. If she opened this door and saw her precious son looking perfectly wrecked in that bed, my life was over.

"He he doesn't want breakfast."

She blinked.

"He told me."

"Really? I thought you were already asleep when he got in last night."

"Oh!"

"Did you bump into him getting water?"

"Yeah. Exactly." I nodded so hard my neck cracked.

"He's way too spoiled. Sleeping in every single day like this, especially when we have a guest" She started complaining.

"He's just a guy. Sleeping in is normal." Besides, he looked so weak right now I could easily take ten of him in a fight. I aggressively agreed with her while physically herding her toward the kitchen.

"Just out of curiosity, how old is he anyway?" I asked, forcing my voice to sound casual.

"A sophomore in college. And completely lazy."

Sophomore? A massive wave of relief washed over me. Thank God.

I spent the next hour helping her make pancakes, surviving on pure small talk. Inside, my nerves were screaming.

Yesterday, my mom made me bring some local specialties over for the holiday. And my hometown's specialty happened to be incredibly strong liquor. My professor had been thrilled and insisted I stay for dinner.

Chapter 2

Drunk out of my mind last night, I had showered my professor with embarrassing amounts of praise. "Professor, if I ever get married, I'm finding a good man exactly like you!"

"Well, you missed your window with your professor, but he does have a son!" his wife teased with a laugh.

The air turned instantly awkward.

"Forget it. That brat is a total trainwreck. He's not good enough for her!" My professor grumbled, downing another shot.

His wife and I burst out laughing.

"Anyway, Paige, fun is fun, but the lab waits for no one. Since you have some free time over the holidays, draft up the new experiment proposal."

I completely froze.

This was my ruthless mentor. Even completely trashed, he was still finding ways to assign me lab work. He wouldn't even spare me during the holidays.

"That shouldn't be a problem, right? You don't think I'm exploiting you, do you?"

I swallowed hard.

"No, of course not. It's the push I need." I lied through my teeth, piling on more fake praise while swallowing a mouthful of ash. Three hundred and sixty-five days a year, and he exploited me for three hundred and sixty-four of them.

My mom had told me to bring him a holiday gift so he might go a little easier on me. I never imagined that getting him drunk would make him a million times worse.

At dinner, they mentioned his son was out partying somewhere and wouldn't be back. Except, in the middle of the night, I got up to use the bathroom, took a wrong turn, and walked straight into his room.

Maybe years of academic torture had finally broken my brain, because I somehow ended up taking all my frustration out on his son.

I had shamelessly devoured a younger guy. God, what a disaster.

By the time I was sitting at the breakfast table eating pancakes, my professor returned from his run. "Paige, you've had all night to think. Got any ideas for that proposal yet?"

"Oh, yeah. A few," I lied, my stomach tying itself in knots.

If I told him I spent the entire night tangled up with his son and completely forgot about the lab, he would actually murder me.

"Honestly, why are you bringing up work during the holidays? Let the girl breathe for a second," his wife scolded him.

"You don't get it. Science is a full-time, lifelong commitment," he said with dead seriousness.

"Don't worry, I'll definitely outline the framework and send you a rough draft first," I promised immediately.

He nodded in satisfaction.

The kitchen TV broadcasting the local news suddenly cut to an anchor. "A local serial felon is currently facing a maximum of twenty years in federal prison"

His wife glanced at the screen. "Good. Men like that deserve to rot in a cell."

My hand jerked. My fork clattered onto the hardwood floor.

I ducked down to pick it up, my eyes darting uncontrollably toward that bedroom door. My pulse roared in my ears. Twenty years. Twenty years. The words looped endlessly in my head.

A loud crash shattered the silence. The bedroom door flew open.

I practically vaulted out of my chair.

A guy wearing a distressed black leather jacket with noise-canceling headphones hung around his neck kicked the door wide open. I looked up. Silas. I instantly shrank back down into my seat.

The heavy, dark energy radiating off him made it painfully obvious he was coming for my head.

"You're up. Want breakfast?" his mom asked, walking over to him.

"No." His voice was rough, dripping with morning attitude.

"Skipping breakfast every day is going to ruin your health. You can't just abuse your body just because you're young!" she started lecturing.

Silas just stood there, the blue streaks in his dark hair practically burning a hole in my vision. "You. Come here."

Me?

I looked at my professor, then at his wife. My brain completely flatlined.

I was dead. I was so dead.

"Watch your tone, brat. Call her Paige," my professor snapped, slamming his fork down.

"It's fine. Really, it's fine," I stammered frantically.

"Paige?" Silas scoffed, shooting me a look of pure, unadulterated mockery. "You have three seconds."

"Right." I folded instantly.

I kept my head down and followed him straight out the door like a kicked puppy.

Chapter 3

The second the door clicked shut behind us, I slapped my hand over his mouth. I shot a glare back at the wood paneling.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed.

He just looked down at me. His heavy, warm breath fanned across the sensitive skin of my palm, sending a phantom shiver up my arm.

"Take me to the hospital."

Hospital? It took my brain two seconds to process.

I kept my voice down. "Look, we can just get Plan B at a pharmacy. You don't need to make a massive scene."

Going to the hospital? Was he trying to publicly humiliate me?

He went dead silent. He took a sharp breath. "I don't feel good."

He turned his head away, but not before I caught the dark flush creeping up his neck.

"Wait where does it hurt?"

"I'm dizzy," he snapped.

"Why are you dizzy?" I reached up and pressed my palm against his forehead.

Holy crap. He was burning up.

He didn't say a word, just shot me a vicious glare.

"You have a fever?" I asked.

"No idea." He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and slouched toward the elevator, completely ignoring me.

A cold? Looking at his murderous expression, I clamped my mouth shut.

"Right. Just wait here." I slipped back inside, fed my professor's wife a desperate lie about a family emergency, and bolted.

He didn't say a single word the entire Uber ride. He kept his face firmly turned toward the window. Every time I shifted an inch closer, he leaned further away. The freezing tension in the car was palpable.

Fragmented memories from last night suddenly started flashing behind my eyes.

Half-asleep and completely wasted, I had seen a ridiculously gorgeous guy. Convinced it was a dream, I reached out and grabbed his cheek.

He suddenly snapped his eyes open.

"You're my professor's son?" I slurred, glaring at him.

He blinked. "Yeah. And?"

"Your dad tortures me in the lab every single day! He won't even let me breathe during the holidays!" I pinched his face harder, taking out all my academic trauma on him. Just thinking about that damn proposal made my blood boil.

He looked completely caught off guard. At first, he tried to shove my hand away.

Oh, hell no. I was going to show him exactly what absolute authority felt like.

"Every time your dad exploits me, I'm taking it out on you. Got it?" I yanked on his cheek.

"Paying for your dad's sins?" His dark eyes turned dangerously soft, pooling with a magnetic, intoxicating heat.

"Exactly! Scared yet?" I challenged, waiting for him to fight back.

He just laughed softly and shook his head. "Fine."

He completely dropped his defenses, letting me push him down.

My brain completely short-circuited. "You're just going to let me?"

Everything after that was a total blackout. So how was this my fault? He literally handed himself over to me on a silver platter!

"Silas?" I finally broke the suffocating silence in the backseat.

"What." He still looked like he wanted to murder someone.

"I was literally blackout drunk last night. I thought you were a hallucination. If I did something to"

He let out a harsh, mocking scoff, keeping his eyes glued to the window.

"Look, it already happened. If you want me to take responsibility, I guess I have to but if your dad finds out we're hooking up, he's going to kick me out of the program." It was the only logical solution my panicked brain could come up with.

"Relax. I don't hook up with my dad's grad students," he cut me off, his voice dripping with ice.

I practically choked on my own spit. "Perfect."

As if I was begging to date him anyway. What an arrogant jerk.

At the ER, I handled the registration. The triage nurse listened to his symptoms, then shot me a deeply suspicious look. What are you staring at? I snatched the paperwork and dragged Silas toward the examination room.

"Doctor, he needs a check-up. He's running a high fever and feeling dizzy." I shoved the clipboard onto the desk.

The doctor, who had been focused on his charting, slowly lifted his head at the sound of my voice.

The second his face came into focus, the air was violently sucked out of my lungs.

Grant. My toxic ex-boyfriend.

All the blood rushed to my feet, rooting me to the sterile linoleum floor.

Chapter 4

Grant froze the second he saw me. His eyes flicked to Silas standing right behind me, and his pupils visibly contracted. He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. "What are your symptoms?"

"Dizzy," Silas replied, his gaze casually sweeping past the tension in the room.

Grant pulled a digital thermometer from a drawer and handed it over. "Under your tongue. Five minutes."

He lifted his chin and shot me another look.

My lungs locked up completely. What kind of cosmic joke was this? I rushed into an ER and somehow pulled my toxic ex's triage ticket. Except I had not seen his name on the board. The on-call schedule must have changed.

The three of us sat in a silence so heavy it felt like the walls were closing in for five agonizing minutes. Those five minutes stretched out longer than the SATs. Silas pulled the thermometer out, slouched in the plastic chair, and kept his mouth shut.

Grant checked the reading. "You are running a fever." His voice was entirely clinical.

Right. A dull ache started throbbing at my temples. How did he randomly catch a bug?

"Have you been in close contact with anyone carrying a highly contagious virus recently?" Grant asked, typing out a blood work requisition without looking up.

"Nno." I ducked my head, staring aggressively at the tips of my sneakers.

"I was not asking you." Grant stopped typing. He stared at me with narrowed eyes, then shifted his gaze slowly back to Silas.

A lazy, rough drawl floated from the chair. "Oh? Me? Nope. Just been in very close contact with her."

"I will write you a prescription. Get some rest." Grant's voice remained perfectly level. But his pen gouged a vicious tear straight through the medical chart.

"During flu season, if you aren't sure of your partner's viral exposure, I highly recommend using proper protection."

My brain exploded. A humiliating, burning heat crawled up my neck and incinerated my face.

I had spent our entire relationship playing the perfect, quiet, well-behaved girlfriend for Grant. Now, that carefully constructed persona was reduced to absolute ash.

Silas acted like nothing happened. He slouched in his chair, tapping away on his phone, before shooting me a sidelong glance. "Looks basic, acts feral."

I could not form a single word.

"Go to the pharmacy window down the hall," Grant ordered Silas. Then his eyes locked onto mine. "You stay."

My stomach plummeted straight to the floorboards. "I I"

"She is grabbing my meds. Why would she stay?" Silas cut in, his tone suddenly sharp and impatient.

"Exactly. I am getting the meds." I snatched the prescription slip right off the desk and bolted. "Bye."

"Paige"

I completely ignored my name. Pretending to be suddenly deaf, I grabbed Silas by the sleeve of his jacket and dragged him out the door.

After surviving the agonizing line at the pharmacy, I shoved the paper bag of pills toward Silas. He did not take it. He just stared down at me, his eyes dark and calculating.

"You know him." It was not a question. It was a drawled statement of fact.

"No." The lie shot out automatically.

"You do not know him, but you are shaking like a leaf?" He let out a harsh scoff.

"It is cold season. Hospitals give me massive anxiety." I desperately tried to bluff my way out.

Running into my toxic ex? My nervous system was completely fried.

"Not going to talk? Fine. I will go ask him." He pivoted on his heel and headed straight back toward the ER.

"Stop!" I lunged forward and grabbed his arm. "He he is my cousin."

Yes. Another pathetic lie.

He forcefully shook off my grip. He stood perfectly still, his gaze boring a hole straight through my skull. "What a coincidence. He is my uncle."

"Uncle???" The words hit me like a tactical nuke.

It took my brain exactly two seconds to process the math. Silas and Grant. They shared the same last name. The world was a sick, twisted joke.

I let out a defeated exhale. The truth was the only way out. "Ex-boyfriend. We broke up a month ago. He dumped me."

"You actually dated him." Silas kicked a stray cardboard box across the pavement with explosive force. It slammed violently into a nearby trash can.

I flinched back, my shoulders jumping. "Yeah." I stood as perfectly still as possible.

"You knew I was his nephew and went after me on purpose?"

"I had no idea. Seriously, you have to believe me." I scrambled to defend myself.

He ignored me. He snatched the pharmacy bag out of my hand and stormed toward the hospital exit. I had no idea why he was radiating so much murderous energy, but I scrambled to keep up with his long strides.

The second the automatic doors slid open to the outside, he stopped. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it with a sharp click of a lighter, and stared at his phone screen. "How did you break up?"

Huh? Why did he care? How did we break up?

Chapter 5

The memory hit me with a sharp, suffocating pressure in my chest. I had forcefully buried those details just to survive the humiliation.

It took me a long minute to drag the words out. "He ghosted me. Weeks without a text. I finally texted him that we should just break up, and he replied with one word. Okay."

My voice was perfectly flat, but my fingernails were digging half-moons into my palms.

Grant was three years ahead of me in the pre-med track. He was the golden boy, the guy every girl on campus obsessed over. I chased him for three humiliating years before he finally agreed to date me. He was always freezing cold.

During our three-month relationship, he left me on read constantly or took twenty-four hours to reply with a single letter. Holding hands was a rare charity event. Kissing or hugging? Forget it.

On Christmas Eve, I finally scraped together the courage to book a nice hotel room for us. He never showed up. His phone went straight to voicemail.

I sat alone in that hotel room staring at the wall until the sun came up, and that was the exact moment my patience snapped.

"Still thinking about getting back with him?" Silas asked, the cigarette clamped between his teeth.

"No." I meant it. Just thinking about those three months made my throat close up.

"Right. Get back with him so you can get ghosted for the rest of your life." His dark eyes flicked to mine.

"Why do you even care?" I snapped. The guy was ridiculously hostile.

"I don't." He took a drag of his cigarette, looking thoroughly irritated. He pointed at a coffee shop across the street. "Go buy me an iced Americano with an extra shot of espresso."

Me?

"Hold the sugar," he added, his dark eyes dropping to my lips.

I met his gaze, the snarky retort flying out of my mouth automatically. "No sugar? You just want some sugar from me instead?"

He closed his eyes in sheer exasperation. "You really know how to flatter yourself."

"I'm exhausted and thirsty," he demanded. "Go get it."

"Excuse me?" Since when did I become his personal assistant?

"What, you have a problem with that?" He gave me a look of pure disdain. "If I could actually walk properly right now, I wouldn't have to ask. I wonder whose fault that is?"

I choked on my own breath. Fine. Absolutely fine. He was the boss today.

I didn't say another word. I practically sprinted across the street, bought the coffee, and ran back. Then he actually had the nerve to expect me to jam the straw into the plastic lid for him.

"Look, your legs are the problem. Your hands work perfectly fine," I attempted to negotiate.

He let out a dark scoff. He reached out and slowly shoved his jacket sleeve up. Vivid red friction burns completely ringed his wrists, glaring aggressively in the daylight.

I snapped my eyes away instantly.

"Wow, that's a really cool pattern on your jacket," I let out a nervous, strained laugh.

Seeing his murderous expression, I completely dropped the negotiation. I jammed the straw in and handed it over like a dedicated servant. I even threw the wrapper into the trash for him.

"Anything else, Your Majesty?" I asked bluntly.

He didn't answer. He just pulled out his phone. "Figure it out."

Figure it out? I was not psychic. I had no idea what this guy wanted.

"How about we just exchange numbers? If you need anything else, you can text me. I'll take full responsibility for everything." I laid my cards on the table.

He smirked. "But I don't give my number out that easily, Paige."

I swore internally. "Goodbye." I spun on my heel and started walking.

"Stop." He closed the distance between us in two long strides. His tall frame boxed me in, radiating a suffocating, heavy pressure.

He snatched the phone right out of my hand, typed his number into my keypad, and hit dial. "I'm making an exception for you. Actually, my mistake. This is the second exception."

I swallowed hard. If I wasn't terrified of him destroying my academic career by blabbing to my professor, I would have never taken his number. I watched his thumbs tap across his own screen as he saved my contact. Barely Passing - Paige.

My fist clenched. Purely out of spite, I typed his contact name right in front of him. Silas - Crippled Nepo Baby.

He stared at my screen. That icy expression instantly cracked into a dark, genuine laugh. "So vindictive."

"Takes one to know one," I ground out.

"You were pretty aggressive when you kissed me last night too. Are you always this intense?" His eyes dragged over my face, a dangerous smirk playing on his lips. "Interesting."

Chapter 6

I silently begged him to stop smiling. When his lips curved, he flashed his canines, looking completely harmless but dangerously magnetic.

"What, were you about to say you are suddenly interested in me?" I threw the bait, testing the waters.

"Not even close." He killed the smile instantly.

Dammit. He had the upper hand again.

"Stop looking at me like that." He took a half-step back. "I am scared."

"Scared of what?" I checked my reflection in my phone screen. Sure, I was not wearing any makeup today, but I did not look like a sleep paralysis demon.

He suddenly closed the distance, leaning in until his lips brushed my ear. "Scared of you," he murmured.

The moment his body heat enveloped me, my heart hammered against my ribs. His rough voice scraped directly against my eardrum, sending a violently hot shiver racing down my spine.

"I am meeting friends. Bye." He pulled back instantly, severing the tension. He threw up a lazy wave and walked away.

I stood frozen on the pavement, my nervous system completely short-circuiting. All the way home, his face lived rent-free in my head. That absolute bastard. Lighting a match and then walking away from the fire.

A few days later, I finally caved and sent Silas a text. "Are you feeling any better?"

It took him ten agonizing minutes to reply.

"? Better from what?"

What? What else could it be? The fever.

Texting was completely useless. I hit the call button. This time, he picked up on the first ring.

"Did you actually listen to the doctor and take your meds?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

"Yeah." His voice sounded weirdly muffled.

It was dead quiet on his end. Too quiet. Like, suspiciously quiet.

"Just 'yeah'?" I pushed. "I am telling you, it is serious. You need to"

He cut me off, dropping his voice to a harsh whisper. "Talk later."

"Why later? Do not put this off" My anxiety spiked. I was infinitely more stressed about his health than he was.

Suddenly, a couple of guys' voices echoed through the receiver.

"Silas, is that a girlfriend?"

"Since when do you have a girl and not tell us?"

"Is she hot? Tell her to come out!"

"Yeah, bring the wife out to play."

"Tell her we are heading to"

The voice was abruptly cut off by a muffled scuffle, like someone had slapped a hand over a mouth. More rowdy voices exploded in the background.

I froze, my grip tightening on my phone.

"Not a girlfriend," Silas drawled lazily over the noise.

"Another girl obsessed with you, then?"

"Obsessed? She is a little older than that" he laughed.

I choked. Since when the hell was I obsessed with him? The absolute nerve of this guy!

"Hanging up." I slammed the end call button. My blood was literally boiling.

"Let's go. I am taking you to a club downtown for some drinks. We are erasing that miserable nerd of an ex from your memory tonight." My roommate, Lily, snatched my phone right out of my hand and threw a barely-there sequined slip dress straight at my face. "Tonight, you are free."

The second we walked into the thumping bass of the club, Silas called. I declined it immediately. I was still incredibly pissed off about his attitude on the phone. Plus, a crowded nightclub was exactly the worst place to take a call.

He dialed again. I hit ignore.

My screen lit up with a text from him: "?"

I typed out a pure, unadulterated lie: "In a Zoom meeting."

The second I hit send, Lily grabbed my arm and dragged me mysteriously into a quieter corner.

"Paige, you have to do me a massive favor tonight."

"With what?"

Chapter 7

"Your little cousin Chase is over by the bar looking like a kicked puppy," Lily pointed out, shoving me toward him. "He needs a massive favor."

Chase practically threw his entire body weight onto my shoulder, looking incredibly miserable. "Dammit. My toxic ex-girlfriend just walked in with her new guy. I am absolutely furious."

"Ouch. That is brutal." Running into the ex at a club was the ultimate nightmare.

"It gets worse. Her new boyfriend is literally my frat brother." Chase let out a pathetic groan.

Absolutely not. I clenched my fists, a surge of righteous anger kicking in. "That is completely out of line!"

"You have to come to the booth with me. Pretend to be my girlfriend. They don't know you."

"Is that is that even going to work?" I had exactly zero experience playing the fake-dating game.

"Paige, please. I refuse to be the pathetic joke of the night." He sounded like he was actually going to cry.

"I got you." My competitive streak instantly flared up.

I peeled off my jacket, tossed it onto a barstool, and tugged the hem of my slip dress up another lethal inch. Chase immediately wrapped his arm securely around my waist and steered me toward the VIP section.

"Everyone, meet my girlfriend, Paige."

"Hey guys"

I flashed my most stunning, effortless smile. It froze on my face less than a second later.

Because sitting completely cloaked in the shadows of the corner booth, wearing a dark baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, was Silas.

My heart flatlined. I was dead.

He sat in dead silence, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. The dark, calculated smirk playing on his lips made my stomach violently drop.

"Damn, Chase, look at you! Your girl is gorgeous!"

"Moving on fast, man. Respect."

His ex-girlfriend leaned forward, her voice dripping with fake, sugary sweetness. "She looks a little older than us, doesn't she?"

"I prefer them older and out of your league. Show some respect and call her your sister-in-law." Chase pulled me down onto the leather sofa right beside him, completely overacting the devoted boyfriend routine as he picked up a slice of fruit from the platter and offered it to my lips.

I sat there, every muscle in my body locking up tight enough to snap. I stared at the piece of watermelon touching my mouth. Then I flicked my eyes across the table. Silas's dark gaze was tearing straight through me like live ammo.

"Paige, they are watching," Chase hissed directly into my ear, his breath grazing my skin.

The physical proximity was absurdly intimate. Trapped, I opened my mouth and ate the fruit. Chase grabbed a napkin and gently dabbed the corner of my mouth.

"Your girlfriend looks awfully familiar." Silas finally broke his silence, his rough drawl cutting effortlessly through the heavy bass of the club.

A violent chill spiked down my spine. I was literally dancing on the edge of a knife. The entire booth went dead silent, staring between us.

"Wait, you guys know each other?"

"Don't tell me she's one of your exes, Silas?"

The table erupted into loud, chaotic laughter. When the laughter died down, the tension in the air turned razor-sharp. Chase looked down at me, totally confused. I stared back, my face completely blank with panic.

"Face blindness. Never seen her." Silas let out a low, mocking chuckle.

He grabbed his whiskey glass, tipped his head back, and downed the amber liquid in one brutal shot. He slammed the glass down, stood up, and walked out of the booth without another word.

Chase immediately started grilling me in a harsh whisper, demanding to know if I actually knew him.

"He is usually not that aggressive," Chase muttered.

Right. I kept my mouth shut. If only Chase knew exactly how feral Silas could actually be.

The rest of the group brushed it off as a joke, and the tension dissolved. Half an hour passed. Silas never came back to the table.

My phone started vibrating relentlessly in my purse. I slipped away to the relatively quiet hallway outside the restrooms to take the call. It was my professor. He demanded I get back to the university labs ASAP to review the pre-holiday data sets.

"Yes. Understood. I will be there." I rubbed my temples.

The second I hung up and spun around, a massive, towering shadow swallowed me whole. Silas blocked the narrow hallway. He had a fresh cigarette clamped between his teeth, staring down at me with absolute, suffocating dominance.

"Well, hello there sister-in-law." He dragged the syllables out, letting the title drip with pure, malicious venom.

The air evaporated from my lungs.

"That that is really not necessary." My nervous system was glitching. The truth was the only way out of this trap.

"What kind of Zoom meeting takes place in the middle of a nightclub?" He smirked, the dark amusement practically vibrating off his tall frame.

"It just wrapped up." I let out a defeated exhale, dropping my shoulders. "This is a massive misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?" A dark, dangerous laugh rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating against my own ribs. "Hooking up with me, and then letting another guy feed you fruit like a pet. What exactly do you take me for?"

He leaned his heavy frame against the tiled wall, closing the distance until his chest brushed mine. A dark, feverish flush stained the high crests of his cheekbones, dragging all the way to the corners of his sharp eyes. His breathing was heavy, broken. The scent of nicotine and expensive alcohol invaded my senses, wrapping around me like a physical leash.

He was completely, dangerously wasted.

"No, I swear. He is my younger cousin," I breathed out, desperately keeping my voice down.

Chapter 8

I silently prayed Chase would forgive me for throwing him completely under the bus.

"Cousin?" Silas let out a harsh, disbelieving scoff. His eyes darkened, his mind spinning through a hundred dangerous conclusions.

He stood in heavy silence for a long moment, then violently crushed the cherry of his cigarette against the tiled wall. "So if your cousin tells you to bend over backwards, you just do it?"

I choked. His twisted logic completely derailed my brain.

"Silas, what the hell is actually wrong with you?" I wanted to physically hit him. "He is my cousin! He told me his toxic ex showed up with a new guy and begged me to play his fake girlfriend for five minutes! Why would I ever do something like that for real? You are absolutely"

"Unbelievable." I was so furiously humiliated my voice was actually shaking.

He stared at me for a single, heavy second. Then, the absolute murderous tension bleeding off his frame instantly vanished. His shoulders dropped, and a slow, magnetic smirk spread across his face.

"Almost had me thinking you were actually heartless"

My jaw hit the floor.

"I am done talking to you. I am leaving." My heart was hammering a chaotic, frantic rhythm against my ribs as I spun around. The absolute nerve of this guy. Completely shameless.

"Hold on." A heavy, calloused hand clamped around my wrist, locking me in place.

"What do you want now?" I glared up at him.

"Look at the state I am in. What exactly do you think I can do?" He threw the question back at me, his smirk deepening.

"" I was completely speechless. "Can you just speak like a normal human being for one second?"

"Fine. Weren't you just interrogating me about my meds?" He lifted his chin, suddenly playing the victim. "You are the reason I am sick. You take care of me."

"Me? I did not give you a fever!" I was losing my mind. "You are a grown adult! Just swallow the damn pills!"

"They taste like battery acid. I am not taking them."

What kind of absolute garbage excuse was that?

"Plus, I am incredibly dizzy today." He pinched the bridge of his nose, acting so flawlessly I almost fell for it.

"You are too dizzy to take medicine but perfectly fine to hit the club?" He was playing me, and I was not that stupid.

"What? You have a problem with that?" His dark eyes dropped, locking onto mine with an icy challenge. "So you are just going to leave me here to die? Fine. Whatever. I will just go back to the ER tomorrow and pull another ticket." He paused, letting the threat hang heavy in the air. "Heartbreaker."

Go back to the ER? To Grant? He was actively trying to destroy my life.

"Fine! I will do it! Just shut up!" I threw my hands up in sheer defeat.

"Let's go then."

"Now?" My brain scrambled to keep up. I literally just got here.

"Yeah. I am exhausted." He casually rubbed the corner of his eye with his knuckles.

A guy who practically lived at the club was tired at 10 PM? Right.

"Where are we going?" My head was starting to throb.

"I am not going back to my house." He stared at me, waiting for me to make the impossible call.

"You absolutely cannot come to my place." I shot that down instantly. But then my brain caught up. Wait. My parents were out of town visiting relatives for the holiday. The apartment was completely empty tonight. Technically, it wasn't impossible.

"Your call." He rolled his shoulders in a lazy shrug.

I ended up dragging him back to my apartment. Mainly because he threw an absolute fit about hotelsthe sheets weren't sanitized enough, the pillows were the wrong density, and there was no decent food if he woke up starving at 3 AM. He was high-maintenance to an agonizing degree.

I texted Chase, feeding him a weak excuse about an emergency. He bought it without a second thought, cursing me out via text for still being obsessed with my toxic ex.

I walked into my bedroom and stared in absolute defeat at Silas, who had immediately claimed the center of my mattress. I shook my head. I had somehow managed to completely ruin my life with the entire Silas bloodline.

"Paige!"

See? Calling for me again.

"What now?" I knocked sharply on the frosted glass of the bathroom door.

"Turn the water heater down. It is literally boiling me alive."

"The temperature is fine. I use it every day."

He was impossibly difficult.

"Come in and test it yourself then."

Fine. Watch me. I was not playing these games.

"Cover up, I am coming in." I shoved the door open, marching straight toward the showerhead and shoving my hand under the spray. "It's literally perfect. What is your problem?"

The words died in my throat.

The bathroom was suddenly suffocatingly quiet. He had a towel wrapped low around his waist. Water dripped from his dark hair, trailing over his collarbones and tracing the sharp lines of his abs. He just stood there, his dark eyes locked dead onto mine.

"Anything else?" I managed to choke out, my brain completely flatlining.

He didn't say a word. He just lifted his hand and flattened it horizontally just above the crown of my head. I barely reached the center of his chest. He let out a long, heavy sigh.

"You are ten inches shorter than me. No wonder it does not burn you down there."

Chapter 9

I glanced at the showerhead, then at his towering frame. Reality finally clicked. "Right I will just turn it down."

Still standing there. "What exactly do you want?" He stared down at me, his tone completely casual, like he was asking me to pass the toothpaste.

"You" I felt like a sheep who just walked willingly into a wolf's den. I never should have opened that door. "Goodbye."

I was absolutely not playing this dangerous game.

"What exactly were you expecting?" A wicked, unrestrained smirk spread across his face. "Trying to save water?"

"In your dreams!" I yanked the door open and bolted. I practically sprinted to the kitchen and downed a massive glass of ice water, my pulse roaring in my ears.

That night, he claimed my master bedroom, and I took the guest room. As for the ointment he complained about earlier, he handled it himself. He did not need my help at all.

My brain spun. Why the hell did he insist on coming to my apartment? Younger guys were impossible to read. His mood violently shifted three times a day.

He claimed he was exhausted the second we got in. He flat-out refused to play co-op on the console. "I am tired. Not playing."

Fine. He had boundless energy an hour ago, and now he was suddenly shutting down.

"Are you hungry? Do you need water?" I tried to play the responsible host.

"Not hungry. Just back up and give me some space."

I choked. "What is your problem? So weird."

"Go to sleep." He reached over and violently killed the bedside lamp, cursing under his breath. "I do not feel good. Get out."

Get out? Why was he snapping at me? All I did was accidentally grab his abs a second ago. It was a pure reflex. I tripped on the rug, panicked, and reached out to catch myself. He just happened to be standing way too close. My nails probably dug a little too hard into his skin. Whatever. Honestly, I did not even realize he was that shredded. My blackout drunk brain completely erased all the visual evidence from our one-night stand.

I crashed hard, sleeping completely dead until the next morning. A sharp, rhythmic knocking at the front door jerked me awake. I let out a miserable groan.

"Who is it?" I dragged my feet toward the foyer, my hair a complete bird's nest.

It could not be my parents. They would not be back from their holiday road trip until tomorrow. Amazon delivery? The building super? Silence. Whoever was out there refused to answer.

I leaned forward and pressed my eye against the peephole. My blood turned to absolute ice.

Grant.

What the hell? How did he even know my apartment number?

The humiliating memory hit me like a physical blow. Thanksgiving. My parents had begged him to come over for dinner. I texted him the address. My entire family sat around the dining table waiting for him for six hours. He never showed up. He texted me later claiming a patient destabilized. I knew it was a pathetic, calculated lie. Whatever.

I unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open, keeping my expression entirely deadpan. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" He was wearing a tailored charcoal suit, looking effortlessly, devastatingly sharp. It was the first time I had ever seen him dressed this formally. My eyes dropped, suddenly noticing the expensive, heavy gift bags hanging from his left hand.

"Now?" My temples throbbed. "Why did you not text me before showing up? Just dropping by unannounced to give me a massive heart attack?"

He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses. "You blocked my number. I could not contact you."

Right. An awkward flush crept up my neck. The day we broke up, I completely nuked him from my phone. Scrubbed his number, blocked his socials. Not because I was scared he would reach out. Because I was terrified I would break down and text him first.

"I am on a tight schedule. I do not have much time." He lifted his wrist, pointedly checking his Rolex before locking his cold gaze onto mine. "It is my first time visiting. You are not going to leave me standing in the hallway, are you?"

I choked on the air. He knew exactly how violently incapable I was of saying no to him. That was the absolute core of our toxic dynamic. When he told me to wait, I waited. I would wait until my brain fractured, and the second he snapped his fingers, I would forget every ounce of pain and come running back.

"Just thirty minutes," he pressed, his face radiating that same sickening, absolute certainty that I would fold.

Chapter 10

Even though I had no idea what he wanted, I still let him in. Our breakup had been a chaotic, unresolved mess. We both needed absolute closure.

"Wait here." I pushed the front door shut.

The second the lock clicked, my brain misfired. Silas was still asleep in my master bedroom. I sprinted down the hall.

He was barely awake, his eyes half-lidded. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep. Just do not come out of this room." I fired off the warning.

His dark eyes narrowed in deep suspicion. "Why? You hiding another guy behind my back?"

"No!" How the hell was I supposed to explain this? "Your uncle is here. He is right outside the door." I spat the truth out.

His eyes snapped wide open. He sat up immediately, his gaze drilling a lethal hole straight through me. "Why the hell is he here? I thought you two broke up."

"We did. I have no idea why he is here." My nerves were completely fried. "Look, he said he only needs thirty minutes to talk. Just stay in here."

"If you have nothing to hide, what are you so terrified of?" he drawled, his voice dropping to a dangerous register.

My mind was a chaotic mess. What was I afraid of? I didn't even know anymore. "Just stay put. I cannot explain this to him." The entire situation was a catastrophic disaster.

He let out a harsh, freezing scoff. The tension in the room spiked. He stared at me in dead silence for a long moment, then dropped two words. "Beg me."

I froze. Silas was absolutely ruthless. He was never the type to just let someone off the hook. But explaining his half-naked presence in my bedroom to Grant was literally impossible. He just wanted the upper hand. Fine. I would give it to him.

"Please," I forced the word out.

"Unbelievable." Instead of his usual arrogant smirk, a dark, explosive anger ripped across his face. "Go catch up with your ex then. Get the hell out of my face." He swore violently, throwing the duvet completely over his head, cutting me off entirely.

My head throbbed. I had zero clue what just triggered that reaction. But Grant was waiting in the living room. I couldn't hide in here forever.

"I will call you when breakfast is ready." I spun on my heel and walked out.

Grant was sitting dead center on my living room sofa. His cold, calculating eyes locked onto me the second I walked in. My skin crawled under his intense scrutiny.

"Are you done throwing this little tantrum?" he asked, his voice effortlessly condescending.

A phantom spike of panic squeezed my chest. Pure muscle memory. In the past, whenever he dropped that line, I would instantly fold, terrified he would ghost me again. But then reality clicked. We were over. A massive wave of relief washed out the anxiety.

"Dragging my nephew into my ER the other day that was just to get a reaction out of me, wasn't it?"

"No." My brain stalled out. How was I supposed to untangle this mess?

"Paige, I am a very busy man." He let out a long, heavy sigh, practically lecturing me. "I do not have the time or the patience to coddle you. Drop the act."

"I" I stood up straight, crossing my arms defensively. "I do not need you to coddle me."

So, the very first time he actually went out of his way to find me, it was just to remind me how busy he was and to frame me as the irrational, immature one? A dry, bitter laugh escaped my lips.

"Grant, if you are so incredibly busy, I highly suggest you stop wasting your valuable time here." I kept my voice perfectly flat. "We broke up."

He completely froze. His lips parted, but no words came out. The shock radiating off him was almost comical. He stood up, closing the distance between us, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "I am literally standing right here in your apartment. What more do you want from me?"

I stared back at him. "I don't want anything from you. We are done. Whether you show up here or not means absolutely nothing to me anymore."

His jaw locked tight. The cold indifference cracked, replaced by a rigid, ugly tension. "You don't want anything, but you went straight after my nephew? Just to get revenge on me?"

Revenge? "I had absolutely no idea he was related to you. If I had known"

"Stop lying," he snapped, cutting me off.

"I am not lying."

"He is entirely wrong for you!" His perfectly controlled demeanor finally fractured.

A suffocating silence slammed down on the living room. He was still the exact same arrogant prick, standing entirely above me, casually dictating exactly how I should run my life.

Chapter 11

I took a slow breath, letting out a dry laugh. "I am wrong for him, but I am right for you? You have got to be kidding me."

"Are you saying you are not?" He was dead serious. His sheer, unadulterated arrogance left me completely speechless.

"Our ages and backgrounds match perfectly. We like the exact same indie movies. We listen to the same playlists. We even order our steaks cooked the exact same way. Our lifestyles align, early to bed, early to rise, no staying out late. I have been thinking about this a lot recently, and analytically, we are a perfect match." He adjusted his cuffs, his tone entirely clinical. "I admit I was swamped with the hospital recently and neglected you. I am here today to fix that. Once we clear the air, I want to hit the courthouse next week on my day off and get the license. We can skip the actual wedding ceremony for now. I simply do not have the time."

A bitter, hollow feeling twisted the pit of my stomach. If he had dropped this speech on me six months ago, I would have been in tears, desperately grateful for the crumbs of his attention. Right now, all I felt was a deep, exhausting urge to laugh in his face.

"Except I actually love staying up until 3 AM. I love clubbing. I want to get tattoos." I looked him dead in the eye, my voice perfectly steady. "Look at that. We are a terrible match."

He froze, genuinely thrown off balance. After a few seconds of heavy silence, he let out another patronizing sigh. "Those habits are incredibly self-destructive for a woman. I highly suggest you fix that behavior."

The back of my throat burned like swallowed ash. He had absolutely no idea. His perfect match was nothing but a suffocating, manufactured illusion I built just to keep him around. I had spent three years forcing myself to listen to his boring pretentious playlists, sitting through dry documentaries that made my eyes glaze over, and burying every single piece of my actual personality just to mold myself into his ideal, quiet girlfriend. I was completely, utterly done chasing a ghost.

"Grant, just leave. I am exhausted." I pointed at the front door, stripping all emotion from my voice.

"Paige, what exactly are you playing at?" He stepped forward and grabbed my shoulders, his grip digging into my collarbones. "You are seriously throwing this away? For what? Because of Silas? That arrogant, immature brat?"

"This has absolutely nothing to do with him." I shoved his hands off me. He still did not get it. The only third party that destroyed our relationship was his relentless, suffocating emotional neglect. I had hit my absolute limit.

A flash of genuine panic finally cracked his perfect composure. It was the first time I had ever seen him lose control.

"Paige, where the hell did you put my pants?"

Silas.

The blood instantly drained from my face, a cold sweat breaking out across my spine.

Grant's eyes darkened drastically. He stared at me, the silence turning venomous as he waited for an explanation. My lungs forgot how to work. I did not even get the chance to lie before the main event walked right into the crossfire.

Silas strolled lazily out of my master bedroom, wearing absolutely nothing but a white towel slung dangerously low across his hips. Water dripped from the messy dark strands of his hair, trailing slowly down his chest.

Grant's jaw locked. I stopped breathing entirely.

"Uncle Grant?" Silas stopped in his tracks, playing the role of the shocked nephew with absolute, Oscar-worthy perfection. "What are you doing here?"

If he had just kept his mouth shut, I might have survived. But the second he spoke, my grave was officially dug.

"Right. You" Grant's face twisted into an ugly, complicated knot. "What exactly are you doing in her apartment?"

"What do you think I am doing?" Silas flashed a dark, deeply suggestive smirk directly at me. "You already know the answer, man. Stop interrogating her. You are making her blush."

"You two are living together?" Grant snapped his head back to me, his voice pure ice.

"Not not exactly" I stammered, my voice completely failing me.

"Come on, give us a break. It is the honeymoon phase. Just do not tell my dad." Silas closed the distance and wrapped a heavy, bare arm securely around my waist, pulling my back flush against his damp, burning chest.

The sudden skin-to-skin contact sent a violent heat rushing straight to my cheeks. I desperately tried to elbow him away, but his grip tightened like a steel vise, locking me entirely against his side. My brain flatlined.

"Silas, you absolute" Grant's face turned a violent shade of pale green. He swallowed the rest of the curse, shooting me one last, venomous glare. "I am leaving."

"Take care. Obviously, I am not really dressed to walk you out," Silas drawled, gesturing lazily to his towel.

The second the front door slammed shut, I let out a massive, shaking exhale. Silas was an absolute agent of chaos.

"I literally told you not to come out! Why the hell did you do that? And what was with all that incredibly misleading garbage you just fed him?" I forcefully shoved myself out of his grip, putting three feet of solid distance between us.

Chapter 12

He stood perfectly still, his dark eyes locked dead onto mine. "Paige, is there actually something wrong with your brain? Why the hell did you ever like him?" he asked, completely serious.

"You don't have to be so incredibly rude about it. He is your uncle, after all." I shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his intense gaze. Honestly, I did not even know why I liked him anymore. Maybe it was just because he was ridiculously good-looking. Maybe it was because every other pre-med girl on campus was obsessed with him, and I just blindly followed the crowd.

"If you like him so much, go chase him down." He dropped the sentence like lead, turned his back, and strode straight into the bedroom.

I stared after him. Like him? Absolutely not. I would never understand the twisted logic of younger guys.

Remembering he was missing his pants, I followed him in. "I didn't touch your clothes. Did you check under the bed?" I scanned the room, then froze as a sudden, glaring realization hit me. "Wait, are you currently?"

He paused mid-reach for his shirt. He turned his head, his dark eyes narrowing. "What exactly is going through that head of yours?"

What? My eyes were literally glued to the sharp V-line of his abs. I could not help staring. It was pure curiosity. I let out a breath, the denial slipping out automatically. "Nothing absolutely nothing."

The tension in the room turned suffocatingly thick. He stayed dead silent, the dark look on his face deepening. "Paige, are you seriously creeping on me first thing in the morning?"

I choked on my own saliva. "I am not!" I scrambled to defend myself.

He completely ignored me. He yanked his shirt over his head with record speed, acting like I was actively trying to assault him. Great. I could not even imagine what kind of absolute predator he thought I was now.

"I get it now. That is literally the only thing on your mind, isn't it?" he snapped, aggressively fixing his collar.

I blinked, completely thrown off by the sudden hostility. "If I said I was just admiring the aesthetics, would you believe me?" I stammered out the excuse.

He shot me a flat, unimpressed look. "That is a very unique way to admire someone." He snatched his phone off the nightstand and headed straight for the front door.

"You" The absolute sheer nerve of him left me entirely speechless.

He stopped abruptly in the doorframe. He slowly turned around, that arrogant, magnetic smirk firmly back in place. "For the record, I only show off my abs to my girlfriend."

That absolute bastard! A violent, burning heat rushed straight to my cheeks. I scrambled after him, desperate to change the subject. "Are you skipping breakfast?"

"I lost my appetite." He stepped out and slammed the front door shut with a sharp bang.

He was just gone? I stared at the closed door, wondering exactly what kind of cosmic curse I triggered to have both my toxic ex and this absolute menace crash my morning.

When my mom finally got back from her trip, she immediately interrogated me about the expensive gift bags sitting on the coffee table. "Won them in a grocery store raffle." I lied without blinking.

As for Silas, he completely ghosted me. I didn't text him, and he didn't text me.

A few days later, I packed up and headed back to campus. Then, late one night, my phone screen lit up with a text from Silas. It was a video attachment.

What the hell?

I tapped play. The video showed a massive living room packed with relatives. A chaotic little kid was sprinting in circles, waving a piece of fabric frantically in the air and screaming at the top of his lungs. "Silas has girl clothes in his room!"

"How do you know it is for girls?" a younger girl asked in the background.

"Because my mom wears stuff like this, and my dad doesn't!"

The entire room full of adults erupted into roaring laughter.

"Put that down!" The harsh, warning growl belonged entirely to Silas.

I burst out laughing, secondhand embarrassment washing over me. Oh, Silas. You actually got busted smuggling a girl's clothes into your room, and now your little cousin is parading it around the family gathering. This is pure karma for being such a player.

A second later, another text popped up on my screen. "Look familiar?"

Familiar? The design of the fabric suddenly clicked in my brain. Oh my god. That was my missing going-out top. The exact one I wore the night I got blackout drunk at my professor's house. A cold sweat broke across my neck. My fingers flew across the keyboard, driven by pure panic and rage.

"Silas, you absolute freak! Did you steal my clothes?!"

He replied instantly. ""

Using ellipses on me? I wanted to reach through the screen and strangle him. I hit the call button immediately.

"Hello!" I practically yelled.

"Yeah." His rough drawl filtered through the speaker. He actually had the nerve to pick up.

"When exactly did you steal that? Do you have any idea how creepy that is?"

"Ha" A low, dark chuckle vibrated against my ear. "The same night you pinned me down."

"I pinned you down?" Wait. The night at his dad's house?

Chapter 13

The memory hit me like a truck. That morning, I had bolted out of his bedroom feeling a very specific, cool draft against my chest.

"You hid it?"

If he had not hidden it, how the hell would I have forgotten to put it back on? It was a pretty crucial piece of clothing.

"Why would I need to hide something like that?" he asked, his voice laced with a dark laugh.

I shot straight up in bed.

"Remember now?" he prompted when I stayed dead silent.

"Why didn't you put it away somewhere?" My scalp prickled. The absolute mortification was suffocating.

"Put it away how? It is literally two scraps of lace. Did you want me to put it in a display case?" he shot back.

"Silas!" I was completely losing my mind. "Honestly, that set was a little too tight on me anyway. Just throw it in the trash."

"No. I am keeping it. It was expensive."

"You absolute If we are done here, I am hanging up!" I desperately needed to regulate my nervous system.

"We are not done."

"What else do you want from me?"

"Thanks to your little item, the entire extended family now thinks I have a girlfriend and that I brought her to the house."

"Right. And?"

"My dad beat the crap out of me and kicked me out."

"That is tragic." I gave him exactly one second of genuine sympathy. "My condolences."

I hit the end call button. Serves him right for mocking me. I was not going to reply to a single text he sent.

Five seconds later, a text popped up. "Hypothetically, what do you think my dad would do if he found out the girl I brought back was his own grad student?"

I stopped breathing. "He would literally murder you." He was straight-up blackmailing me.

"Exactly. Which is why I cannot go home."

"Sounds like a you problem. Take care."

He did not text back. My anxiety immediately spiked into the red zone.

Thirty minutes later, my apartment buzzer went off. I jumped off the mattress. A delivery? I dragged myself out to the entryway and checked the intercom screen. Silas.

What the hell was he doing here? I hit the speaker button. "Who are you looking for?" I pitched my voice high, trying to fake a wrong number.

"You." He saw right through it instantly. "Buzz me in."

I was so dead. He was here to collect. "Why are you here?"

"I got kicked out because of you. You are taking me in."

"Absolutely not. I have a roommate. It is totally inappropriate."

"I am not leaving until you open this door." He stood perfectly still, his dark eyes locking onto the camera lens.

I swear on my life, I only hit the buzzer because I was terrified he would actually stand out there all night and cause a scene with the neighbors.

Silas strolled in, his eyes doing a slow sweep of the living room. "Place is tiny. I guess I can make it work."

I choked. Beggars cannot be choosers! "How long are you planning to stay?"

I rubbed my temples, watching him drop casually onto my sofa like he owned the place. It was a cramped two-bedroom apartment I shared with another grad student. She was out of state for a two-month fellowship, leaving me entirely alone for the semester.

"Depends on my mood."

Depends on his mood? He did not look like a guy who just got violently kicked out by his dad. He looked like he was on vacation.

"You are taking the couch tonight."

He just kept scrolling on his phone, completely ignoring me.

"What? Were you expecting a bed?" I crossed my arms. "Do not push it. It is my apartment. You are lucky I even offered the couch."

"I never said I would not take the couch." He shot me a flat look.

Right. "Make yourself at home then. I am going to wash my hair."

I was completely drained. It was the weekend, I had exactly zero plans to leave the house, and my hair was an absolute disaster.

I leaned over the bathroom sink, scrubbing shampoo into my scalp as fast as humanly possible. Halfway through, a massive shadow blocked the overhead light. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It took my brain a full second to remember Silas was in my apartment.

"What are you doing?"

"I am starving." He leaned against the doorframe, staring down at me.

"Then order Uber Eats." My head was literally covered in suds.

He stood there in silence for a moment before dropping a completely deadpan line. "My mom says takeout is bad for my health."

I wanted to drown him in the sink.

Chapter 14

"Did your mom ever tell you it's highly inappropriate to live with a girl?" My scalp tingled. Having him stare at me while I bent over the sink to wash my hair felt ridiculously humiliating.

"My mom doesn't teach me that stuff." He leaned down, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. "I'm entirely self-taught."

"Wow you must be a really fast learner." I shifted my angle, desperately trying to dodge his line of sight.

"You have a lot of hair." He casually stepped to the other side of the sink, showing exactly zero intention of leaving.

"Is my hair volume offending you?" I snapped, just wanting five minutes of peace to scrub my scalp.

He stared at me for a long second before letting out a dramatic sigh. "Experts say older girls with thick hair have massive temper issues."

I choked on my own breath.

"What kind of garbage experts are you listening to? Get out." I reached blindly for the bathroom door.

"Want me to help you?" he asked, completely deadpan.

Help me? The absolute sheer tension short-circuited my brain. I froze completely. "What what exactly are you going to do?"

"Ha" A low laugh shook his chest. "Wash your hair. What exactly were you thinking, Paige?"

Dammit. My mind was completely in the gutter.

"I'm good!" I rejected him instantly, a burning heat flushing my cheeks.

He completely ignored me. He stepped right into my space and grabbed the showerhead to rinse the suds out.

"Hold still." His large hand gently but firmly gripped the back of my head. His long fingers massaged the shampoo into my scalp. My heart hammered a chaotic, frantic rhythm against my ribs.

"Seriously, I don't need help." I jerked my head up to take over. My skull slammed hard into the showerhead. It slipped from his grip, clattered onto the wet tiles, and started thrashing wildly across the floor like a high-pressure snake.

Perfect. Within seconds, both of us were absolutely drenched.

"Silas! Grab the damn thing!" I panicked, frantically jumping back.

"Stop screaming. You're going to give the neighbors the wrong idea." He calmly reached down, snatched the thrashing metal head, and stepped right back into my space. "I told you to hold still."

Unbelievable.

After that, I completely surrendered. I stood in dead silence while he meticulously rinsed the rest of the soap from my hair.

The second he finished, I wrapped a towel tight around my head, sprinted into the living room, and turned my back on him to blow-dry the mess. Of course, two seconds later, his heavy footsteps closed in right behind me.

"Silas, if you keep doing this, I swear" My patience was hanging by an absolute thread. He was pushing every single button I had.

"You swear what?" He leaned in, his voice dropping an octave. "You're going to pin me down again?"

"I will kick you out onto the street!" Did this guy have zero shame?

He paused for a beat. "If you can't have me, you destroy me?"

I clamped my eyes shut, took a deep breath, and mentally chanted to ignore him a hundred times. He finally backed off, dropping onto the sofa in silence while I finished drying my hair.

"What do you want to eat?" I tossed my phone straight at his chest. The screen was already glowing with the DoorDash app.

I ignored the screen, locking his dark eyes onto mine instead.

"I am way too lazy to cook." I let out an exhausted sigh. "It takes forever, and I have zero culinary skills."

He sat in silence for a moment before pushing himself off the couch and walking toward the kitchen. "What is in the fridge?"

I trailed behind him. Honestly, I couldn't even remember what was in there.

He pulled the stainless steel door open and stared blankly at the endless rows of sheet masks and eye patches. His expression turned grim.

"I practically never cook." Then, a memory clicked. "My mom shoved a bag of frozen shrimp in the freezer drawer. It should still be at the bottom."

He bent down, yanked the freezer drawer open, and pulled out the bag of frosted shrimp with a heavy sigh. "Do you have any rice