2

Chapter 2

Clarissa.

My eyes were stuck on his for so long, I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. Damien’s eyes, those piercing blue oceans, stared straight into my soul like they could unravel every secret I tried to bury. His broad chest, his defined and hefty muscles, the hard lines of his six-pack… God, I didn’t even realize my hand was still pressed against his chest until I felt it start to tremble, his breathing going up and down.

I was frozen, not from fear but from something deeper. A feeling I thought I’d buried years ago, long before I reminded myself he was my step-cousin.

That was when the memory hit me like a wave, sweeping me back to a moment three years ago. A time before he travelled and I began to accept Clinton as my boyfriend out of frustration and reminding myself that he is just my cousin and off-limits!

Damien had always been the man of my dreams. Even when we were still in secondary school. Even when I knew I shouldn’t feel the way I did. He was my step-cousin. My family, actually not by blood, but still, it is supposed to be off-limits and forbidden for us to date.

And yet, I’d had the biggest crush on him for years.

The worst part? He never even noticed. Not in that way. To him, I was always just Clarissa, his sweet little cousin. His responsibility. His best friend. Someone to protect and care for genuinely. But deep down, I didn’t want his kindness. I didn’t want to be his little sister. I wanted more, so much more.

But he often sees me as someone he never wants to love.

That flashback came flooding in so fast I almost forgot where I was. I remembered the day I was humiliated in school. The day my classmates mocked me for accidentally kissing a boy during a game. They called me ugly, childish, and desperate. I cried so bitterly and ran out in tears.

And Damien… he was the only one who followed me. He found me crying by the empty basketball court, sat beside me, and wiped my tears with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“You’re not ugly,” he told me softly. “You’re the most beautiful girl I know, Clarissa. And you’re worth kissing. Their cruel words shouldn’t hurt you or make you sad.”

I felt so wanted at that moment and smiled. Then, without warning, he brought my face closer and kissed me passionately.

Not on the cheek.

A real kiss, which was soft and tender, but it didn’t feel wrong to me even though I knew it was. It felt like something that made sense in a world that never did.

I never told anyone about it because they'd scold me. After that day, he left for the States, and I buried that memory deep down, locked away like a secret I was never supposed to have. I had to forget about him and memories about him and accept the bitter truth that I have a betrothed and he was my step-cousin!

But now?

Here he is, standing in front of me. Shirtless and so sexy, he behaves older and stronger. Hotter than ever.

And my hand was still on his chest.

I snapped out of the memory just as he tilted his head and asked, “Clarissa… Are you okay?”

His voice pulled me back to reality. I blinked twice, realizing I was still blushing. I quickly pulled my hand away from his chest like I’d been caught stealing. My cheeks were burning, and I was sure he could see it. Oh no!

“I’m fine,” I lied, smiling sheepishly and stepping back. I tried to hide my face, but it was already too red. God, I was so obvious.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “What are you doing here? I mean… why are you here?”

I straightened, forcing myself to speak clearly. “Seriously? You don’t know? This is my sister’s apartment. I called her earlier because I had nowhere to go. My boyfriend…” I paused, biting my lip. “My ex… Clinton threw me out. She said I could come stay here while she’s away. What about you? I thought you were in the States. What are you doing here?”

He folded his arms across his chest casually, like my presence didn’t faze him one bit. I actually expect that he has no atom of feelings for me after all. “I came back two months ago. Moved in here when Alicia said she was traveling for work. She offered me the place while she’s gone. I guess she was meant to tell you before asking you to come.”

And just like that… it hit me.

That’s what Alicia was trying to say on the phone earlier. The part I couldn’t hear because of the poor network. She was trying to warn me that Damien was the one staying in her place.

Now, we were going to be living together? No! No!

My breath caught. Could this be the opportunity I looked for with him!?

He took a step closer. Then another. Until my back touched the wall and I had nowhere left to go. His eyes dropped to my lips before locking back on mine. Oh…those seductive eyes, I held my breath immediately.

“I live here,” he said calmly. “So, if you want to stay… that’s up to me.”

My heartbeat doubled. “Up to you?”

He leaned in slightly, his voice a little lower. “So, Clarissa… What are you going to do to convince me to let you stay?”

The air in the room was suddenly hot, and I could feel sweat forming at the back of my neck. I couldn’t think. All I could see was his body, his curvy waistline, and the tattoo on his chest. When did he get so damn hot?

I swallowed and shoved him lightly. “Oh, please, Damien. Stop that. You’re my step-cousin. This isn’t funny.”

But the pressure behind my words wasn’t real; my heart palpitated as I tried to look normal.

Then, out of nowhere, I remembered Clinton. The way he looked at me. The way he humiliated me. The betrayal was still too fresh. And just like that, the pain hit me all over again.

I looked down, trying to hold back the tears. My eyes were already stinging.

“I just had the worst day of my life, Damien,” I said quietly. “And I’m not really in the mood for jokes. I need to be alone. I was heading upstairs.”

He watched me for a second longer. His gaze shifted, softened. “Wait… have you been crying?”

“No,” I lied again, shaking my head and moving toward the door. “Never mind. I’ll leave if that’s what you want. I don’t want to be a bother.”

I grabbed my bag and turned, but then… He caught my hand; his grip was firm and gentle, more like the way he used to hold me back then in school.

“Hey,” he said, his voice suddenly calm and sincere. “I’m sorry. For what I said. Stay here with me, Clarissa. Please.”

I blinked.

Was he serious?

“You… Really?” I asked, breathless. “We can share the house?”

He nodded. “Of course. You’re my step-cousin. We’ve known each other since forever. There’s no way I’m letting you sleep outside. Just don’t distract me from my studies, alright?”

He reached out and yanked my hair playfully, the way he used to when we were kids.

I rolled my eyes, half smiling. “You always treat me like a child.”

“Maybe you act like one,” he teased.

I didn’t care anymore. I was too relieved. “Thank you, Damien. Really. I promise I won’t distract you.”

I rushed upstairs with my bag, but he called out, “Wait…Clarissa!”

I turned around.

He tilted his head. “My shirt.”

Oh.

I looked down. I was still wearing his black t-shirt. My face flushed again.

“I’ll just take it off…” I said, raising my hand to pull off the shirt. I mean, I always do that before.

He raised his hand. “Whoa, stop. I was kidding. You were seriously about to take it off in front of me? Cmon, we are no longer kids, and you can’t keep doing that.” He laughed. “I’m a man, you know… even if we’re related. Be careful and don’t do this to other guys out there.”

He winked. “Keep it. Looks better on you anyway.”

I smiled, clutching the shirt like it was made of silk, and ran back upstairs.

By the time I changed and freshened up, it was already past five. Just then, my phone buzzed, a message from school authority to our group chat. There was going to be a welcome party tonight for the new freshmen at 6 PM.

Of course. What did I expect from a fancy elite university?

I dressed up quickly. A short red dress, subtle glitter on my cheeks, gold hoops, and lip gloss. I looked good, and I needed this. I needed to breathe again; probably getting drunk could help me get over the betrayal.

When I came downstairs, Damien was on the couch, wearing a black shirt now, sipping wine and reading a thick book.

“I’m going out,” I said. “It’s just a welcome party at the university.”

He didn’t look up immediately.

So I added, “How do I look?”

He slowly raised his eyes. His jaw literally dropped. I could see it, the shock. His eyes scanned every part of me.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath.

I blinked. “What?”

He cleared his throat. “I mean… you look great.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

I turned to go, but he stood up, suddenly serious. “Wait.”

I turned. “Yes?”

He took a deep breath. “Clarissa, the dress looks… too short. You can’t wear that. Go and change.”

I froze. My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

His tone changed; it was commanding, firm, and literally possessive.

“I said go change. You’re not stepping out in that.”

I laughed, shocked. “You can’t tell me what to wear. You’re not my dad. Not my brother. Not even my boyfriend.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Listen to me, if you walk out that door dressed like this, I swear to God I will…”

He stopped.

I raised a brow. “You’ll what?”

I took a few slow steps toward him, close enough to feel his breath on my skin.

I reached for his shirt collar and pulled him just a little closer.

I looked him in the eye and whispered…

“What are you going to do to me, Damien?”