RUIN ME, STEPFATHER

CHAPTER ONE

Nora ended the call with her mom and dropped her phone onto the bed like the device had scorched her fingers. The conversation replayed in her mind, each word twisting her stomach into knots.

"What happened now?" Chloe asked from across the dorm room, propping her chin in her hands while she watched Nora pace.

"Mom wants me home for the holidays." Nora groaned and pressed her palms over her eyes, trying to block out the mental image of what waited for her there.

"That doesn't sound like the end of the world."

Nora dropped her hands and shot her roommate a look that could have frozen hell over. "You know exactly why I can't go back there."

Chloe's lips twitched with barely contained amusement. "Your stepdad?"

"Don't you dare call him that," Nora snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. "Louis is only six years older than me. The whole situation is absurd. Every time they go out together, people stare at them like they're watching some kind of spectacle. He looks more like her boyfriend's younger brother than her husband."

Chloe's grin widened into something downright wicked. "You mean he's attractive, and that bothers the hell out of you."

"That's not what I said at all." Nora turned away and busied herself with yanking her suitcase out from under the bed, hoping the activity would hide the flush creeping up her neck.

"You didn't need to spell it out. The way you disappear whenever your mom brings you home tells me everything I need to know. He gets to you in ways you don't want to admit."

Nora zipped her bag with enough force to nearly break the zipper. "I despise him, Chloe. That's the beginning and end of it."

Chloe threw back her head and laughed. "Sure thing. Keep telling yourself that story."

The honk of a car horn outside cut through their conversation. Nora grabbed Chloe in a quick hug, then dragged her suitcase down the narrow dorm stairs, each step feeling like a march toward her own execution.

Her mother practically glowed when Nora slid into the passenger seat of the sedan, but Nora kept her gaze fixed on the passing landscape until they pulled into the familiar driveway of her childhood home.

Inside, Angela immediately began bustling around with grocery bags, her energy infectious despite Nora's sullen mood. "I have to run back to the office for a couple of hours to finish up some year-end reports. Louis is upstairs working in his office. Please try to be civil, Nora." She planted a quick kiss on her daughter's cheek and disappeared out the front door, her heels clicking a rapid rhythm against the concrete.

The house settled into an uncomfortable silence that seemed to press against Nora's eardrums.

She hauled her suitcase toward the staircase, each step echoing in the empty foyer. Halfway down the upstairs hallway, she froze in place.

The sound of rushing water carried from the bathroom at the end of the hall. Steam drifted through the partially open door, turning the air thick and humid.

Her mouth went completely dry. Every rational part of her mind screamed at her to keep walking to her old bedroom, to pretend she had not noticed anything at all.

But her feet had apparently decided to mutiny against her brain.

The door stood open just wide enough to reveal the interior. Through the fogged glass of the shower door, she could see his silhouette.

Louis.

Water cascaded over his shoulders, tracing the defined lines of his chest before flowing down the ridged muscles of his abdomen. He ran his hands through his dark hair, pushing the wet strands back from his forehead while droplets clung to the sharp line of his jaw.

Nora's pulse began hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Heat flooded through her body in relentless waves, bringing with it a confusion that made her stomach churn with self-loathing.

Her eyes traveled lower despite every moral fiber in her body screaming at her to look away. The steam created a hazy barrier across the glass, but it was not enough to completely obscure the lean lines of his hips or the powerful muscles of his thighs.

Her breath caught in her throat. She knew with crystal clarity that she should turn around and walk away before her knees gave out completely. But her treacherous mind had other plans, conjuring images that made her face burn with shame and something else she refused to name.

Her thighs pressed together involuntarily. A shiver raced up her spine despite the warm air surrounding her. She hated every cell in her body for responding this way, but the ache that settled low in her belly ignored her mental protests entirely.

Then something shifted in the shower.

He moved with deliberate slowness, as if he had all the time in the world.

Nora's heart leaped into her throat, threatening to choke her. She stumbled backward, but her reaction came far too late.

In the mirror mounted above the bathroom sink, his dark eyes found hers with unerring precision.

The world seemed to stop spinning on its axis.

He did not startle or make any attempt to cover himself. His gaze remained locked on her reflection, steady and knowing, as if he had been aware of her presence from the moment she had stopped in the hallway.

Then his mouth curved into the faintest suggestion of a smile.

Nora's breathing turned ragged, her face burning with mortification while every nerve ending in her body came alive with a mixture of shame and something far more dangerous.

She should run. She should slam the door shut and pretend this moment had never happened, that she had never seen him like this, that her body had never responded with such traitorous intensity.

But her feet remained planted on the carpet.

And Louis continued to watch her in the mirror, that knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth while the water continued to stream down his body.

The silence stretched between them, heavy with implications that Nora did not want to examine too closely. Her suitcase sat forgotten beside her, and somewhere in the distance, she could hear the tick of the hallway clock marking each passing second of her humiliation.

Still, she could not bring herself to move.

And neither could he.

When Nora finally found the strength, she broke away and rushed into her room. She slammed the door and leaned against it, her chest rising and falling in frantic waves.

Her hands shook as she peeled off her travel clothes and tugged on her nightgown, thin cotton that clung to her damp skin. She told herself it was only for comfort, that she was not dressing this way for anyone else, least of all him.

She sat on the bed, hugging her knees, but the silence in the house only made her more restless. After a few minutes, she padded downstairs to the kitchen, telling herself she only needed water.

The refrigerator light spilled across the room as she pulled out a bottle. She pressed the cool surface to her forehead, trying to steady her breathing.

The sound of footsteps made her stiff. Slow and unhurried, they crossed the hall until the kitchen doorway filled with him.

Louis.

His hair was damp, his shirt clinging in places where it had not yet dried. He leaned against the frame for a moment, studying her with a gaze that sent heat rushing through her again.

"Enjoy the show upstairs?" His voice was quiet, low, and threaded with amusement.

The bottle trembled in her hand. "I—I was not—"

He stepped into the kitchen, closing the space between them. "You were standing there long enough to make me wonder."

Her throat tightened. "It was a mistake. I did not mean—"

"To look?" His smile deepened as he stopped in front of her. "Or to like what you saw?"

Her back brushed against the counter as he planted one hand beside her hip. The cool marble pressed against her spine, but her body burned under his nearness.

"I…" Her voice faltered. She tried to move, but her legs refused to obey.

His eyes lowered briefly, catching on the sheer outline of her nightgown before rising again to meet hers. "You should not wear something like this around me," he said softly. "Unless you want me to notice."

Her breath caught, her pulse stuttering painfully. "Louis… please…"

He tilted his head, closing the last sliver of distance. His voice dropped to a whisper that brushed her ear. "Tell me, Nora. Should I stop?"

His hand slipped lower, brushing the hem of her nightgown, his fingers ghosting against her thigh. Her whole body trembled, torn between fear and the pull that made her chest ache. She squeezed her eyes shut, biting back a sound that betrayed how much she felt.

Louis’s other hand rose, cupping her face, tilting it upward until she had no choice but to look at him. Her lips parted on a shaky breath, and for a long moment the kitchen was filled with nothing but the hum of the refrigerator and the thunder of her own heart.

Then his hand slid beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown.

Nora gasped, her knees buckling, her fingers clutching at the counter to steady herself.