Eyes That Undress

Chapter Two:

“You’re staring again,” Harper said, slurping her iced coffee.

“I’m not.” I pulled my hoodie lower, but my eyes betrayed me, locked onto the screen of my phone where Liam’s photo was frozen mid-smirk.

“You’ve been replaying that five-second video of him handing you a glass of water for an hour. You sure you’re not already pregnant by imagination?”

“Shut up,” I muttered, but a stupid grin played on my lips.

Harper leaned in. “So, what was he like in real life? Tall, dark, deadly?”

I nodded slowly. “He looked through me like I was glass—and I still felt stripped bare.”

“Gross and hot. But also gross.”

“Exactly,” I sighed, my heart still pounding like he was in the room.

She shook her head. “Careful. You’re one missed period away from becoming a scandal.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

Harper arched a brow. “But you want to.”

I didn’t respond.

I didn’t have to.

Two weeks passed. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. And then… he showed up at our house.

I was barefoot in the kitchen, munching on popcorn and watching some trashy reality show when the doorbell rang. Dad was at the office. I wasn’t expecting anyone.

I pulled the door open—and nearly dropped the bowl.

He stood there in a navy trench coat, black gloves, and a look that screamed control.

“Liam?” I blinked. “I—Dad’s not home.”

“I know.”

I gripped the door tighter. “Then… why are you here?”

He looked past me, eyes sweeping the living room like he was measuring it.

“I forgot a file. Your father said I could come by and grab it.”

“Oh.”

A beat passed. I didn’t move. Neither did he.

“You gonna let me in?” he asked, voice low and laced with amusement.

“Right. Yes. Of course. Come in.”

m

He stepped inside, and suddenly the house felt smaller. The air shifted. Or maybe it was me.

“You live here alone?” he asked as he walked toward Dad’s study.

“When he’s not home, yes.”

He stopped. Turned. “You shouldn’t tell men that, Isla.”

I swallowed. “I didn’t mean—”

“Doesn’t matter what you meant. Be smarter.”

Was that concern?

I watched him disappear down the hall, wondering how a man could be so cold and still set my skin on fire.

When he came back, file in hand, I was sitting on the arm of the couch.

“You always wear short shorts when you’re home alone?”

I looked down. Crap.

“They’re comfortable,” I mumbled, pulling my hoodie down again.

He didn’t speak. Just stared. Long enough for my skin to break into goosebumps.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you can read every thought I’ve ever had.”

He stepped closer. “Can I?”

I held my breath. “What am I thinking right now?”

“That I should kiss you.”

My lips parted

“That I want to,” he added, voice rough now. “That you want me to.”

My heart thundered.

“But I won’t.”

He stepped back.

“Because you’re too young?”

“No,” he said, turning toward the door. “Because your father’s the only man I’ve ever owed a damn thing to.”

The door clicked shut behind him

And I stood there, knees weak, wondering why rejection tasted like electricity.

That night, I tossed and turned.

What kind of man walks into your home, undresses your soul with a stare, then walks out like nothing happened?

Liam freaking Sinclair.

I texted Harper.

> He came over today.

> OMG TELL ME EVERYTHING.

> He didn’t kiss me. But he almost did.

> Girl… this man is playing with fire.

> Then I hope I’m the matchbox.

Two days later, he was back.

Only this time, it wasn’t my house. It was the school auditorium.

My father’s company was funding a scholarship, and Liam was the guest speaker. I had no idea until I walked in, saw him on stage, and nearly dropped dead in the middle of my classmates.

He was in a tailored black suit, addressing the crowd with all the charisma of a king.

“I was twenty when I lost everything,” he said. “And thirty when I built something ten times greater. No one gave it to me—I took it. And I never said sorry.”

Every word hit like a bullet.

My friends were whispering, giggling over how hot he looked.

But he only glanced at one face in the crowd.

Mine.

I didn’t imagine it. That half-second pause. The flicker of heat.

He saw me.

And he knew exactly what he was doing.

After the speech, I slipped away, trying not to look like I was searching for him.

Which, of course, I was.

And then—boom. I ran into him outside by the black-tinted car with his driver.

“Are you following me now?” I asked, pretending to be bold.

He smirked. “You go to this school. I forgot.”

“Convenient.”

“You looked nervous.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Good. Because I need you to understand something, Isla.”

I folded my arms. “What?”

“I don’t lose control.”

I took a step closer. “What if you already have?”

His jaw ticked. “Then it won’t happen again.”

But his eyes—they said otherwise.

And I knew it.

Knew I was getting under his skin.

Which made me want to dive deeper.

Because Liam Sinclair was a storm in a suit.

And I was already halfway into the thunder.

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