Chapter Five

Yubi

The house was too quiet.

That was the first thing I noticed when I crept out of my room later that night, still wearing my soft pink pajama shorts and an oversized tee. 

Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago Mom and Trey’s dad were probably passed out after drinking too much celebratory champagne, Kiara had driven home with Trey and maybe he was spending the night at his house, not that I cared anyway. 

My throat felt tight as I remembered earlier at the party, Trey and I had argued, Why did everything with Trey feel like an argument lately, even when we weren’t speaking? Why did it feel like the air changed whenever he walked into a room?

Why did my heart ache every time his eyes lingered on me?

The same eyes that had looked furious tonight when Kevin asked me to dance. And furious when I said yes. And furious while he slow danced with Kiara like he didn’t even want her near him.

I shook my head. Water. All I needed was water.

The hallway was dim, just the soft glow from the kitchen night light spilling under the door. I padded inside, rubbing my eyes, already reaching for a glass then i froze.

Trey was sitting on the counter. Of course he was. Lately he seemed to be everywhere I went. 

Barefoot, wearing black sweatpants and a white shirt that clung a little too well to his chest. His hair was messy, pushed back carelessly like he’d run his fingers through it a thousand times, and a bowl of instant noodles sat beside him, steam curling into the air.

He looked up the second I stepped in.

Those eyes. Dark. Sharp. Familiar in a way that hurt.

“Oh,” I croaked. “I didn’t know you were here.”

He set the bowl down beside him and kept staring, face unreadable. “It’s your kitchen too, Yubi. You are allowed.”

Heat rose to my cheeks. I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it at the sink, keeping my back turned because I could feel his gaze burning into me like a touch.

The silence was heavy. Thick. Almost physical.

I sipped the water, but my hands were shaking.

“Could you not hover?” I snapped, frustrated at the way my pulse refused to calm down.

“That’s me sitting,” he said dryly. “You are the one hovering.”

I nearly rolled my eyes. Why did he always twist everything?

Still, I forced myself to move to the opposite counter, pretending to examine the cereal boxes I had seen a hundred times. Just so I didn’t have to look at him.

But he spoke before I could escape again.

“Kevin is not good for you Yubi.”

The words sliced the quiet clean in half.

I blinked, turning slowly. “Excuse me?”

Trey stared at me like he’d been waiting all night to say it. “I know him. I know what he is like with girls. He doesn’t date them, he uses them.”

A laugh escaped me sharp, disbelieving. “Wow. And you think it’s your job to warn tell me that?”

“Yes,” he said immediately, jaw tight. “It is.”

“It’s none of your business Trey.”

“It is,” he snapped back. “It’s my business to protect you.”

“Why?” My voice shook, but I didn’t care. “Because you are my what exactly?”

His nostrils flared. “Your big brother.”

The word felt like a slap on my face in a mocking way. 

I set the glass down too hard, water sloshing over the rim. “Step brother. Let’s be clear.”

His gaze flickered. Just for a moment. Enough to tell me he felt it too, the sharpness of that boundary, the reminder.

The truth we both wished wasn’t true.

But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

“And since when,” I continued, voice rising, “do you get to control who I dance with? Or talk to? Or like or even date?”

“I’m not trying to control you.”

“Really? Because it sure felt like that tonight.”

He pushed off the counter, landing on the floor with a soft thud that made my heartbeat lurch. He was too close now. Too tall. Too tense.

“You don’t know what Kevin is like,” he repeated quietly. “You don’t know him like I do.”

“I don’t want to know him the way you know him,” I said. “And you don’t get to scare me away from people just because you feel like it.”

His jaw tensed. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“You are trying to be territorial.”

“That’s not”

“And why?” I stepped forward, anger heating my skin. “Why do you get to lecture me? Do I ever tell you who to date?”

His eyes narrowed. “That’s different.”

“How?” I challenged, my breath shallow. “How is it different?”

“Because it just is.”

“No,” I said, heart pounding. “It’s because you want one rule for me and another for yourself. You can be with Kiara, but I can’t dance with someone at a party?”

Something dark flashed across his face. Ugly. Raw.

“That wasn’t dancing,” he muttered.

“And what was it, then?”

His voice dropped. “You were smiling at him.” My lips parted a little, and I chuckled 

This wasn’t anger anymore. This was something else. Something I recognized because I felt it too, felt it every time Kiara draped herself over him: this was Jealousy.

“Trey” My voice cracked. “You don’t get to be jealous.”

“I’m not,” he growled.

“You crawled out of your skin when Kevin touched me.”

“You looked like you liked it,” he snapped, his voice breaking, like that bothered him more than anything.

“And so what if I did?” I whispered.

His chest rose sharply, breath faltering.

“You are not his,” he said. Quiet. Trembling. “You are”

He cut himself off, but the unspoken word hung in the air between us. Mine.

I swallowed hard. “I’m not yours either Trey.”

He stepped closer. Two feet left between us. My body went rigid.

“Don’t tell me who to dance with,” I whispered, heat burning behind my eyelids. “Don’t act like you have some right over me. I never tell you not to date Kiara. Even though I hate”

I clamped my mouth shut too late.

His voice was soft but lethal. “You hate what?”

My breath shook. “Nothing.”

“Yubi.” His voice dropped to something low and dangerous. “Tell me.”

“I hate the way she touches you,” I whispered. “I hate the way you look at her. I hate”

But the rest died on my tongue, because he moved.

In a single heartbeat, Trey closed the distance between us. His hands came up to my waist hot, firm, trembling and he pushed me lightly back against the counter.

I gasped.

“Yubi,” he breathed, face inches from mine. “Stop lying.”

“I’m not”

“Yes, you are.” His forehead pressed softly to mine, his breath warm against my lips. “You think I don’t see it? You think I don’t feel it every time you look at me? Every time you get close? Every time you pretend I’m just your sister now?”

“Trey,” I whispered, voice breaking. “We can’t. We are ”

“I know,” he breathed. “God, I know.”

His fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt, like he needed to hold on to something.

“But I can’t stand watching some guy put his hands on you.”

“That’s not your place,” I whispered, but my voice was shaking so hard it barely came out.

“I don’t care,” he said.

And then he kissed me.

Hard, desperate, wrong but perfect.

The world tilted, and my hands flew to his chest, but I didn’t push him away. I pulled him closer. His mouth moved against mine like he’d been starving all week, like the kiss at the party had haunted him the same way it haunted me.

Like he had been waiting for this moment.

Like he couldn’t not kiss me.

His breath was ragged, mine worse. And for a moment, for one stolen, forbidden moment, nothing existed except the warmth of his hands, the taste of him, the ache in my chest that finally, finally made sense.

He broke away first, forehead still pressed to mine, breathing hard.

“Yubi” he whispered, voice wrecked. “Tell me to stop.”

I couldn’t. I didn’t.