Five

Steam wafted around me as I emerged from the shower, my skin still buzzing from the heat. After that incredibly awkward dinner, I really needed the hot water to wash away the tension that had settled in my shoulders. My hair was damp, sticking to my neck, and my skin sparkled with tiny beads of water that trickled down to the towel wrapped snugly around me.

I felt lighter, calmer—like I could finally breathe again. For a moment, being here almost felt normal.

That is, until I opened the bathroom door.

I froze. My brain took a couple of seconds to process what I was seeing. Then it hit me—Rowan Harrigan, the bane of my existence, was lounging on my bed. My bed. Like he owned the place.

He was leaning back on his elbows, one leg casually crossed over the other, looking like he was at home. His lazy gaze flicked up when I opened the door, and a slow smirk crept across his face.

I screamed, loud enough that I probably woke up everyone in the mansion. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

Rowan didn’t even flinch. "Relax," he replied, his voice maddeningly calm. "You’re loud enough to summon ghosts."

I tightened my grip on the towel with one hand, pointing at him with the other. "Get out! Are you crazy?!"

He glanced around, giving a feigned frown as if confused. "Last I checked, this is our house. Didn’t know there were restricted areas."

My jaw dropped. "R–restricted? It’s my room!"

Rowan tilted his head, those green eyes sparkling with mischief. "You sure? I could’ve sworn you seemed more at home in the pool."

I gasped, the memory of that pool incident flashing through my mind. My face turned red. "You’re unbelievable."

He chuckled softly, clearly enjoying my embarrassment. His gaze drifted down to my chest...at my hardened nipples, lingering just long enough to send a shiver down my spine. "You really should lock your door next time, princess. Someone might get the wrong idea."

No way did he just say that...he wasn’t even–

"I will lock it," I snapped, stepping back toward the bathroom, ready to grab the nearest shampoo bottle as a weapon if needed. "Now please get out before I–"

Rowan rolled his eyes as if I were the unreasonable one. "You’re so dramatic," he murmured, rising to his feet.

But instead of leaving, he took a step closer to me. Then another.

I blinked, my heart racing. "W–what are you doing?"

He didn’t respond right away. His smirk faded into a more serious expression as he stepped in close, just inches away. His height towered over me, and suddenly the room felt too warm.

I instinctively took a step back, gripping my towel tighter. "Rowan," I warned, though it came out more like a question.

He moved even closer, the scent of his cologne...clean, sharp, and annoyingly appealing—filling my senses. My back hit the wall, and panic surged through me, my pulse racing.

Rowan leaned down slightly, his voice low and teasing. "You really think I’d waste my time doing anything to you, brother? Don’t flatter yourself."

I stared at him, cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and anger. "Then what was that s–supposed to be? Some intimidation tactic?"

He chuckled softly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "If I wanted to intimidate you, you’d know it."

For a moment, we locked eyes—green against brown, and everything felt heavier than it should have. Then he suddenly pulled back, acting as if nothing had happened, and strolled toward the door.

"Relax," he called over his shoulder. "I just came to let you know Dad wants us up early tomorrow. He’s planning some big ’family bonding breakfast.’ Try not to scream this time."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving me speechless, flustered, and acutely aware of how fast my heart was racing.

I groaned, pressing my forehead against the cool wall. "Oh, this is going to be a nightmare."

Rowan let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair, almost as if he was trying to shake off more than just his bangs. For a moment, he looked almost... exhausted. But then his face hardened again, and he leaned against the doorframe like he owned the whole place.

"You know what, Atlas?" His voice was low, almost casual, but there was an edge to it. "Since it’s clear I’m not thrilled about this whole ’new family’ situation, let’s get one thing straight."

I tightened my grip on the towel, steeling myself. "What thing?"

He let out a humorless laugh. "I didn’t ask for a stepmom. And I sure as fuck didn’t ask for a stepbrother." His eyes swept over me, cutting. "But out of everyone, it just had to be you."

I blinked, stung by his bluntness. "Wow. Thanks."

Rowan pushed off the wall and stepped closer again, this time making sure I heard him. "I don’t want people at school or at home thinking we’re... whatever this is meant to be. Step-siblings. Friends. Anything. The last thing I need is to be associated with you."

My mouth dropped open in shock. "Excuse me?"

He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Don’t act surprised. We’re not the same, Atlas. We don’t even breathe the same air. And if you’re smart, you’ll keep your distance, let me do the same."

I felt a knot form in my stomach, anger and humiliation mixing together. "You’re unbelievable," I managed to say, though my voice wavered.

"Yeah?" He tilted his head, that mocking smile reappearing. "Believe it. Because I’d rather die than let anyone know you’re my stepbrother. So do us both a favor and pretend I don’t exist when we’re out there."

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. His words landed like heavy stones, but his tone was so casual it felt almost rehearsed.

I swallowed hard, forcing steadiness into my voice. "Fine. If that’s what you want, Rowan. I’ll pretend I’m invisible. I don’t care."

He shrugged, as if I had just agreed to a business arrangement rather than something personal. "Good. That makes two of us."

I stood there for what felt like ages, staring at the spot he’d just occupied. My fingers dug into the towel, and I exhaled a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

"Unbelievable," I muttered again, this time softer.

Rowan’s lips curled into a faint, self-satisfied smile when I went along with his ridiculous rule. It wasn’t a kind smile—more like one of triumph, the kind someone wears when they’ve won an argument they instigated in the first place.

"Glad we see eye to eye," he said, straightening up and shoving his hands into his pockets as he strolled toward the door.

I stood there, still damp from my shower and wrapped in nothing but a towel, watching him walk away as if he’d done me a favor. Something inside me snapped a little.

"How long," I said, my voice breaking the silence, "do you think you can keep this from your jerk friends?"

He paused mid-step. For a heartbeat, the air in the room thickened. Slowly, he turned back, his green eyes narrowing in a way that made me instantly regret my words—but I didn’t back down.

"Excuse me?" His tone was calm, but it carried the promise of a storm.

"Y–you heard me." I crossed my arms, despite my towel threatening to slip. "It’s only a matter of time before they find out, Rowan. You can’t control everything, no matter how much you think you can."

His jaw tightened. "Here’s some advice, Atlas—mind your own fucking business."

I blinked, stunned by the venom in his voice. But he wasn’t finished.

"And while you’re at it," he added, stepping closer just to twist the knife, "tell your gold-digging mom not to bother trying to ’bond’ with me. I’m not interested in being a family."

His words struck like a slap, sharper than I expected. Before I could find any words, anything to respond with—he turned and stormed out, slamming the door with enough force to rattle the frame.

The sound echoed in the sudden silence, and I just stood there, staring at the door, half-hoping it might open again. My throat felt tight, and I bit my lip, holding back the sting in my eyes.

"Welcome to the family," I whispered to myself, the bitterness coating my tongue as I finally let out a shaky laugh that didn’t feel like humor.