Lahat ng Kabanata ng We shouldn’t be doing this, Step-brother: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

SiennaThe rest of that evening blurred by. Mom and Dad came home, filling the house with their usual chatter about work, while Jaxon and I sat on opposite ends of the couch pretending to watch TV. Only we knew the truth—the heat between us had been cut short by my cramps, leaving something unsaid and unfinished.But if Jaxon was frustrated, he didn’t show it.All week, he became something else entirely. A caretaker.Every morning, he checked in before school. “You good?” he’d ask, his voice softer than usual, his hand brushing my shoulder like he was afraid I might break.At lunch, he’d slide his juice toward me. “You need this more.”After classes, he’d carry my bag, pretending it wasn’t heavy when I knew it was.At home, he’d hover while I studied. Sometimes he’d make me tea, sometimes he’d grab a blanket and toss it over me before settling down with his game. But always—always—his eyes found me.And the strangest part? I let him.Because the truth was, by midweek, the cramps had f

SiennaMy heart nearly burst out of my chest when I heard that sound upstairs. It was faint—a floorboard creaking, maybe the shift of a door—but it was enough to make my stomach drop.Before I could even react, Jaxon was already moving. Quick, smooth, like nothing had happened. One second he was close to me, his warmth all over me, and the next he was back at the dining table, flipping his notebook open like the world’s most serious student.I froze for a beat, still half in shock. My fingers scrambled over my top, fixing it, pulling it straight, making sure nothing looked out of place. My cheeks were on fire. My whole body was buzzing, but I forced myself to grab my notes, lay back against the couch, and pretend I had been reading the whole time.I pressed my pen to the paper, hand shaking so badly I could barely write my own name. I swallowed hard and prayed my dad or his mom wouldn’t come down the stairs.For a long moment, the house was dead quiet. Just the ticking of the wall clo

SiennaThe air between us snapped like a live wire. Jaxon’s mouth moved against mine with a hunger that made my whole body tremble, my hands clawing at his shirt before I even realized what I was doing.Somewhere between kisses, clothes started tumbling to the floor—his hoodie, my cardigan, his t-shirt. We didn’t stop to think. We didn’t even breathe. It was like the whole week of holding back had erupted in one unstoppable wave.“I missed you too,” I whispered against his lips, the words breaking out before I could hold them in. And I meant it—God, I meant it with everything in me.His hands slid over my waist, pulling me closer, and my heart thundered so loud I swore he could hear it. By the time I realized how far we’d gone, we were both stripped down to nothing but our underwear, tangled against the wall.That was when reality slammed into me.“Wait,” I gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. My face burned hot, half from breathlessness, half from what I was about to say.He pulled

SiennaThe fork in my hand suddenly felt too heavy. Mom’s words hung in the air like a stone dropped into still water.“So… what about prom? Have you thought about your dates yet?”I swallowed, hard, my mind racing. I could feel Jaxon’s stare burning into me, both of us fumbling for a reply but neither daring to speak first.Dad leaned forward, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Well? You two must’ve thought about it by now. Don’t tell me nobody’s asked either of you.”I forced a laugh, my voice thinner than I wanted. “It’s… um… it’s complicated.”Jaxon shifted in his seat, clearing his throat like he was about to buy me time. But Mom didn’t give us much of a pause. She tilted her head, her smile playful but sharp enough to feel like a spotlight.“Complicated?” she echoed. “Come on, Sienna. You’re a pretty girl. Don’t tell me you don’t have a line of boys waiting.”I blushed hard, staring down at my plate. My voice came out smaller this time. “It’s not really like that.”Dad chuckled, tur

SiennaThe school was alive that Friday like it had been waiting all year for this single day. Streamers, balloons, and banners were strung up in the halls, some already crooked from students tugging at them on their way to class. The air smelled faintly of markers, tape, and the hairspray girls had sprayed on themselves before first period. Everywhere I looked, it was prom, prom, prom.Campaign posters for Prom King and Queen littered the walls, taped over lockers and bulletin boards. Some were flashy, with glitter and pictures, others just sharpie-scrawled slogans. Every time a bell rang, someone new shoved flyers into your hands, chanting promises about free candy if you voted for them.And then, there was the other kind of “advertising.” A few seniors—bold or just stupid—moved through the hallway selling little “prom packs” out of their backpacks: boxes of condoms, mini bottles of baby oil, even perfume samples swiped from their sisters’ dressers. Giggles and whispers followed the