They look soft. The light catches her lower lip, and I can’t look away. Then she runs her tongue over it, like she doesn’t even realize.
My reaction is immediate. Sharp enough to knock the breath out of me.
For a second, my mind blanks. Then it goes somewhere it shouldn’t.
What would it feel like to kiss her?
The thought hits fast and vivid.Too vivid. My brain jumps ahead before I can stop it—closing the distance, pulling her closer, the space between us gone.
I shut it down just as quickly.
What the hell is wrong with me?
The thought cuts clean through everything else, snapping the moment in half.
She’s my sister. That alone should’ve stopped it. Should’ve been enough.
But it wasn’t.
I force my gaze away, locking it on the horizon over her shoulder like distance might help reset something in my head.
Get it together.
Charlotte shifts in front of me, still focused on what she’s doing, completely unaware. Of course she’s unsuspecting. She’s not the one thinking like this.
The realization settles heavy in my chest. And then another thought follows, colder.
If she knew. If she had any idea where my head just went?—
My stomach turns.
She wouldn’t just disappear for a while like she sometimes does. She’d be gone for good.
I can see it too clearly—her packing up, heading back to the other side of the island, putting distance between us that wouldn’t close again.
Something tightens in my chest.
I can’t lose her like that. Not again. Not because of something I should’ve been able to control.
So I shove the thought down, lock it away, and keep my eyes fixed straight ahead.
Because if Charlotte ever found out, nothing between us would survive it.
I keep my gaze fixed past her shoulder, out toward the stretch of sand where the tide is slowly creeping back in.
Focus on that. Not on how close she is. Not on her hands still moving through my hair. Just the water. The steady rhythm of the scissors. Anything else.
My cock doesn’t cooperate.
A second later, I feel it—low and unmistakable. Tension tightening in my stomach, sharp enough to send a wave of dread through me.
My grip shifts against the log.
No.
Not now.
Not here.
