Chapter 7: Between Hate and Desire

“Let go of me!” I snarled, yanking my arm free. 

I was just as bewildered by the strange sensation as he was. It was as if a magnet was pulling me toward him, and my heart was racing so fast it felt like it might burst out of my chest.

My action seemed to snap him out of his trance. He blinked rapidly, his eyes wide as if he couldn’t fathom what was happening, as if he couldn’t believe he’d let himself get so lost in that short moment. And then, his expression shifted instantly from dazed to furious.

“Fine. Have it your way,” I said, trying to sound tough and annoyed even though I was still confused  from what had just happened. I quickly turned and hurried into my room, closing the door behind me.

I leaned against the door, still confused.  I put my hands flat on the cool wood and tried to breathe slowly and deeply, but each breath was shaky. My mind was reeling, spinning so fast I could barely think straight.  

What was that strong feeling I’d had? I told myself firmly that I hated him; I knew I did. He was cruel, he was mean, alright? But why the hell did my chest get this strange, fluttering sensation every time we fought, like a thousand tiny butterflies were trapped inside? And that tingly shock we felt when we touched, was it real, or was I just imagining it?

Had he felt that too? And why the hell was my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat, thundering like a racehorse’s hooves? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make sense of any of it. Nothing about these confusing, conflicting feelings made sense at all.

   

Dammit, what is wrong with me?!

That night, to avoid him, I asked the house helpers to bring my dinner to my room. Our parents were out at a party, as they often were. We usually ate together when they were home, at Uncle Greg’s request, but when they were gone, Theo and I went our separate ways.

After finishing my homework, I decided to go downstairs to get some milk. As I walked past the gym, I noticed the door was slightly ajar. Curious, I glanced inside and froze. Theo was working out, lifting heavy weights, and he was shirtless, wearing only a pair of boxers. I couldn’t look away.

  

I gasped at the sight and told myself to look away immediately but my eyes refused to obey. My cheeks burned bright red, and I swallowed hard, suddenly started noticing every detail. His body was incredible,  toned and perfectly proportioned. 

Then I found myself admiring the sharp definition of his six-pack abs, the way his biceps bulged smoothly as he lifted the dumbbells, the veins that stood out on his neck when he strained against the weight, and the strong lines of his hips and thighs. Even the obvious outline of his body beneath his boxers made my throat go dry, and I kept swallowing, as if that could ease the sudden tightness there.

I’d seen plenty of attractive, muscular men at public gyms before, but none of them had ever affected me like this. His physique wasn’t just muscular, it was almost flawlessly shaped, every muscle in exactly the right place.

I felt that familiar flutter in my chest, the same one that hit me whenever we argued, and I couldn't help but curse silently. Not this again. After what happened earlier, I should be avoiding him, not standing here admiring his muscular physique. But the longer I watched, the more I felt that strange pull. 

Does he have to look like that? I wondered, equal parts frustrated and flustered. It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t the most attractive person I’d ever seen.

I was so caught up in staring that I didn’t notice he’d finished his set until he dropped the dumbbells with a loud clang that echoed through the room. I gasped, blinking rapidly as if waking from a dream. I saw his eyes dart toward the door, and I panicked, turning and running away before he could see me. 

I wasn’t sure if he’d spotted me, or if my gasp had given me away, but I prayed he hadn’t. The last thing I needed was for him to get angry and accuse me of checking him out, even though that was exactly what I’d been doing.

I ran back to my room, slamming the door shut, and leaned against it, breathing heavily. I slapped my cheeks multiple times, angry at myself for being so foolish.

"This is wrong! He’s my stepbrother and I hate him!  He’s cruel, he’s disrespectful and  he makes my life miserable. But why can’t I tear my eyes away? It’s like I’m hypnotized, staring at his body, dammit!”

Oh no! This can’t be happening. I am not attracted to him. Yes, he has a nice body, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a terrible person. And I shouldn’t be admiring him. He's my stepbrother for  Pete’s sake!  I can’t be lusting over my freaking stepbrother!