Chapter One
KIRA POV
I was curled up in my reading nook, the perfect little hideaway with a view of the garden, where my brother Jason and his friend Drew were kicking a football around. I tried to focus on the book in my lap, but every now and then, my eyes would drift to the two of them running across the grass, laughter echoing through the open window.
Drew had been around for years, just another one of Jason’s friends—until recently. Something had changed. He wasn’t the lanky kid from high school anymore. College had done something to him, transformed him in ways I couldn’t ignore. The boyishness had melted away, replaced by muscles and broad shoulders that strained against his shirt. Even now, I could see how much he’d bulked up since the last time I really noticed him.
I lowered my book slightly, just in time to see Drew peel off his shirt. The sight caught me off guard, and I found myself staring. His entire body was on display, the lean lines of his six-pack catching the sunlight. His skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat as he ran a hand through his tousled hair, and it was hard to look away. Where did all those muscles come from? Since when had he become... this?
It was like he’d grown overnight, practically tripling in size. He made the boys at school look like scrawny amateurs in comparison. Drew had this presence now—confidence, strength. The kind that made you forget about every guy who’d ever tried to impress you before.
I didn’t even pretend to be reading anymore. My book lay forgotten in my lap as my eyes followed him. Drew jogged to the side of the garden, grabbing a water bottle and taking a long drink. His throat bobbed with each swallow, and then, in one swift motion, he tipped the bottle over his head. The water cascaded down his chest, tracing every ridge of his abs and soaking his dark hair. He shook his head to get rid of the excess water, droplets flying through the air, catching the light.
I swallowed, suddenly feeling my pulse quicken as I realized just how long I’d been staring. But I couldn’t tear my gaze away. There was something magnetic about the way he moved; he was effortless and completely unaware of the effect he was having.
Suddenly, something hard hit me square in the head, jolting me out of my daze. The football. My glasses flew off, and everything around me blurred into an indistinct haze. Panic surged through me as I frantically dropped to my knees, my hands sweeping across the ground, trying to find my glasses.
Before I could make sense of anything, my foot slipped, and I tumbled forward. Cold water engulfed me as I crashed into the pool, thrashing in a desperate attempt to stay above the surface. I couldn’t swim, and panic gripped me harder with every second.
Just as I felt myself sinking, strong arms wrapped around me and yanked me up roughly. In a swift motion, I was dragged to the pool’s edge and shoved out of the water with far less care than expected. I gasped for breath, coughing up water and trying to get my bearings.
Drew loomed over me, his expression anything but amused. “You alright?” he snapped, his tone laced with irritation. Water dripped off his soaked form as he stood there, glaring down at me.
I coughed again, trying to respond, but the words stuck in my throat. Drew ran a hand over his face, clearly fuming, his muscles tense with frustration. My brother came running to us and looked more irritated than worried, “what have we said about you being by the pool?”
I hugged myself tightly, trying to ward off the chill that seemed to seep into my bones. Frustration flared inside me, made worse by the way my brother spoke to me as if I were a child instead of an eighteen-year-old. My voice came out weak and unsteady as I stammered, “I... I lost my glasses.”
He rolled his eyes, clearly not in the mood for excuses. “Yeah, no kidding. I could see that much.” He crouched down, retrieving my glasses from the ground before thrusting them into my hands, his jaw clenched.
I took them from him, sliding them back on, my heart still racing as I blinked up at Drew. His usually calm demeanour was nowhere to be found—he was angry, really angry. His wet hair stuck to his forehead, water still dripping from his body, and his eyes burned with frustration.
“You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, Kira,” he growled, running a hand through his soaked hair in exasperation.
I swallowed hard, feeling my face flush with a mix of embarrassment and guilt. “I—I’m sorry…”
He shook his head, frustration still simmering in his voice. But then his gaze shifted, lingering lower, settling on my soaking wet t-shirt that clung to every curve of my body, especially my chest. My breasts, larger than I’d ever wanted, were impossible to hide beneath the drenched fabric despite my usual efforts to cover them up with baggy clothes.
I saw his tongue dart out, wetting his lips, and his expression changed. His eyes darkened, the irritation melting into something else—desire. It was unmistakable. That flash of hunger in his gaze sent a shiver down my spine, making the air between us feel suddenly heavier.
Without waiting for a response, he turned sharply and stormed off, water dripping behind him as he headed back toward Jason. I stayed there, soaked and speechless, my stomach in knots as I watched him walk away, the weight of his anger hanging heavily in the air.
