Page 26 of ’Til You Break

I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve only been here a few days. I haven’t had enough time to figure out his schedule or how he works. Besides, this moment was bound to happen eventually. We live under the same roof. Avoiding him forever isn’t an option.

With that in mind, I pull on a pair of baggy track pants and the oversized t-shirt I normally sleep in, before heading for the kitchen. I’m hoping that less enticing clothes will make it clear I’m not interested in taking this relationship any further.

But, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the thrill of what happened that night at the club. Our bodies pressed together, fingers wandering where they didn’t belong...

The sting of regret that followed isn’t worth those few moments of excitement. Put simply, I realize that I can’t control myself around him. My mind switches off when I am near him, leaving nothing but cravings and the burning need to sink into his depravity. The way he looks at me. The need burning in his eyes. His body trembling with desire.

I would have loved every second of it if he were anyone else.

But we’re practically family. We shared a home for years. Watched each other grow from children into young adults. It doesn’t matter that we’re not related by blood. Our bond is sacred in a completely different way.

Breaking it can only end badly.

Vik isn’t in the kitchen when I walk in, but it’s obvious he’s been busy here. He’s gathered all the fruit and vegetables that are nearing their expiration dates and chopped them into small pieces.

I walk around the island to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, when I hear something outside.

I peer through the blinds and spot Vik outside, beside the pool. He is soaking wet and kneeling at the edge, fiddling with the pool crawler’s filter.

An instant swarm of butterflies erupts in my stomach at the sight of him from behind.

I was right about him. His back is covered in tattoos that stretch across his overdeveloped muscles. They are similar to those on the front; intricate linework forms a dragon in the center, its wings spread across his shoulders.

“For God’s sake,” I mutter.

He really isn’t making this any easier.

He finishes whatever he’s doing and stands. I turn away before he catches me staring, but I don’t flee from the kitchen either.

I refuse to be made to feel uncomfortable.

It’s a difficult goal, but if I’m going to stay here, I have to face the awkwardness instead of letting it consume me. Vik being shirtless certainly isn’t helping. Neither is watching every muscle flex whenever he moves.

I return to the other side of the kitchen island, sip my water, and wait for him. We may as well get the awkwardness from the club out of the way so we can return to some semblance of normality.

“Morning,” I call as soon as I hear the back door open. Letting him know I’m here feels like the right thing to do.

“I’m making smoothies,” he says, coming in through the laundry. “Want one?”

“Su— Oh my gosh, what happened to you?”

My jaw nearly hits the marble countertop. Vik looks like he’s gone three rounds with Mike Tyson. His cheek is swollen and purple, although thankfully the bruise hasn’t spread to his eye. Instead, there’s a small cut near the outer corner. His knuckles are just as battered and split across the joints. It’s impossible to tell whether the rest of him is injured beneath the black-ink pistols covering his chest.

“Went a little hard during sparring,” he says smoothly, almost casually. “Had to relieve some tension after...”

He winks.

It happens so quickly I’m not even sure I imagined it. But his tone carries the same playful wickedness, making this so much harder than it already is. It’s as if he wants to test the choice I’ve made to keep whatever this is between us firmly under control.

Even though he has no idea I’ve already decided that boundary can never move. Desperate to find some shred of resolve, I shake my head and wander over to the dining table.

Vik gets to work on our smoothies, dropping strawberries into the blender.

“You know it’s not going to happen again, right?” My words disappear beneath the roar of the blender.

“What was that?” he asks, switching it off.

I open my mouth to repeat myself. He flicks the blender straight back on.