003–MY SECRET CRUSH IS MY STEP-UNCLE?

ROSE'S POV

My skin still feels warm from last night, the memory of our kiss revisited me a thousand times as I slept. But, the moment I step out of my room, Dad's cold voice rings through the walls–the last way I planned on starting my day.

 Last night was real, I actually went against my parents...particularly mom's expectations. Before I could completely register it in my head, Mom's voice from the kitchen interrupts my thoughts. I adjust my nightwear with a sigh and head toward the kitchen.

"Oh Rose, you didn't call last night." Mom face squeezes with worry as she watches me enter the kitchen. "I was worried sick! Where were you?" She say, her voice cracking with concern.

   

"Uhm..." I shift uncomfortably, glancing around the kitchen for a change of subject. "Mom... I was out celebrating my birthday, the regular way." I say with a forced smile, hoping she doesn't figure I'm lying. "Breakfast huh? You're up early." I try to move the conversation in another direction. But I can't ignore the silent doubt in her eyes.

"But I called the head of department last night..."

My heart drops. Mom did what?

"And I was told that none of your students received an invitation to a birthday celebration because they were all with her, working on the project." Mom folds her arms over her chest and stare silently at me.

I won't look away. I may be an adult but my mom has the power of making me feel like a frightened toddler. "Ehhh..." But my eyes still dart around the kitchen, trying to come up with an excuse.

"Where were you last night?" She repeats the question, her voice firmer.

"I...uhm....I was with Monique...we were... partying alone. Jeez, mom, I wanted something different, come on."

She forces a weak smile and waves her hands, brushing off the impending confrontation, she never does this. "Take this for your dad and uncle in the living room." She sets a tray of freshly baked pancakes and coffee mugs in front of me. "I think grandma is there with them too. They are waiting."

"Uncle?" I ask, shaking my head in disbelief. "Dad's step brother? I thought he disappeared into thin air or something?"

"Well..." Mom hesitates, her eyes avoiding me. "He's never around. He's the black sheep of the family." She hands me the tray. "Just go and serve them okay? The housekeeper is getting his room ready."

"A room? How long is he saying?" I ask, feeling a bit uneasy.

"Darling, you know things are tight." She says, her tone sour. "Your dad's stepbrother has billions. He returned from the States a month ago and is willing to work with the Hilton firm. He'll be staying for a while. Just... treat him well, okay? Get on his good side." She rubs my back and leads me toward the door, opening it and heading back the kitchen.

I step into the living room and see three heads bent over scattered files on the coffee table. Two of them are familiar–Grandma and Dad – but the third one... that face. It's unfamiliar yet...slightly familiar. I move closer to where he sits. "Sorry to interrupt." My voice trails off as I lower the tray. My eyes meet his, and it misses a beat--Green eyes that I've fantasied about for weeks. The man I kissed last night at the club, is here in my living room. 

"Good morning Dad. Grandma... and...you."

I'm still holding the tray and staring at him. No, it can't be him. Not here, not now. I try to match the confusing pieces in my head... "My uncle?" The words slip out quietly. 

Slow panic rise within me, as my body heats up under his gaze. Am I really attracted to him? Or is it just a reaction from last night's connection?

"Rose. Rose?" My dad snaps his fingers and I regain my composure. "This is my brother Ryan, it's probably your first time meeting him."

"Step-brother." Ryan stresses the word with a touch of venom. I can feel the tension between them.

Never have I imagined meeting my step-uncle in this manner–the one dad never talks about, the one he only mentions about when he's ranting about his bad behavior. I expected someone older, distant. Ryan looks... untouchable, different from the man that kissed me in that club like his life depended on it.

"Uhm...sorry. uhm... Welcome uncle." I mumble, trying to look away. As I set the tray on the table, my eyes keeps moving back to him. He leans back against the couch, watching my discomfort.

The room is suddenly too hot and my entire body burns from the heat. Ryan leans forward to lift his coffee mug, his fingers brush against mine, setting something within me to life, his touch burns down to my lower waist. The same fingers that pleased me last night.

My sweaty palms struggle to hold the tray firm, but my fingers slip, the tray wobbles, splashing coffee everywhere. A gasp breaks out of me as tea spills all over Ryan's shirt, ruining the fabric.

Dad and grandma rush to their feet, apologies rolling out, but I'm unable to move or speak. I can't take my eyes off Ryan's face. He doesn't seem mad, he just sets his lips tightly.

I just spilled tea on his shirt. Why am I awkward around him? 

"I'm...sorry." I murmur, fixing my gaze on his shoes, Ryan feels more frightening today.

Ryan grins, his green eyes gleaming in amusement. "It's fine." He says in his low, intimate tone. "I didn't plan on wearing this shirt for a long time, so, don't bother."

Mom enters the room. "Oh Rose...Mr. Ryan. You're supposed to look after your uncle. He's had a rough day." Her voice has a touch of humor, as though nothing awkward is happening. "Take him to your bathroom okay? The housekeeper is still fixing his room."

My bathroom? Ofcourse, to Mom, it's just a harmless suggestion. Take him to your bathroom to clean up. But my mind conjures up images of us in my bathub. 'Rose, pull yourself together. He's your uncle. Whatever feelings you had towards him was a mistake.'

I hurry up the stairs, struggling to keep enough distance between us as possible because of my body's traitorous reaction to him. Ryan is as affected as I am, even though he looks so calm and self composed, his tense jaw, and uneven breathe gives him out. But is it really desire? Or just guilt? Or regret?

I push the door to my bedroom open. A million butterfly flutter in my stomach as Ryan step in behind me, his presence causing hot, immoral moisture to rise between my thighs.

Ryan's eyes roam around taking in the room silently, majority of my drawers and boxes are locked, there's really nothing on display but I can't help peeking back to see the look on his face whether he approves or disproves.

Standing in my bathroom, my reflection stares back at me through mirror. With shaky hands, I trace the edge of the mirror. Would mom be mad if she finds out what I'd done? 

I fill the tub and move toward the door. Ryan is in the same position I left him, leaning against the wall with his ankles crossed and arms resting on his waist. I step out, trying to ignore my trembling body but it's not exactly possible with Ryan this close.

"The maid will bring something for you to change into." I whisper.

Before I can walk pat him, he grabs my wrist, I want to fling it off, but he quickly holds my waist, pulling me back inside. The door closes behind us.

 "You're my uncle..." The words barely leaves my mouth, I wonder if he hears me. "How can this... this isn't possible."

My feet are stuck to the ground. Did I make a terrible mistake last night? His hot breath fans my neck, his body heat suffocates me as he leans closer. My brain spins with confusion. I'm trapped again and the knowledge of what could happen next seems too real to ignore.