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She looks at me for a long time without responding, doing that intoxicating lip-biting thing again. I’m doing everything possible to avoid leaning across the table and tasting something even more delicious than her food.

“R-really?” she murmurs.

Stop, stop, stop.

“Your body is perfect, Layla. You’re right not to be ashamed of it. Everything about you is perfect.”

She stands abruptly, her chair legs squeaking against the floor.

“I’m done,” she says, picking up her plate with plenty of food left on it.

Without waiting for me to say anything, she leaves the room quickly. She knows I just overstepped. I shared way too much. Yet still, as I watch her go, I’m hungry to not only say more butdomore.

CHAPTERFIVE

Layla

Everything about you is perfect.

I replay the moment as I rinse the dishes, preparing them for the dishwasher.

He was leaning across the table, staring at me like he’d happily pick up where we left off at the wedding. His steaminess was so obvious I couldn’t doubt it, especially when I felt his gaze on me when I left… watching me walk away.

Just like Noah often watches Mom.

Miles walks into the room behind me. I hear him but don’t turn, as if ignoring him will make any of this easier.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he says gruffly.

I turn, my whole body shaking. Every inch of my body is searing under his attention. I’m doing my best to hide it and contain the fiery ball of lust that continuously expands inside me.

“Then why did you?” I murmur.

He walks across the room, stopping just shy of me. His scent is in the air, overpowering the spices, but that could be because I’m hungrier forthosescents. For his bodywash and shampoo. For him, underneath it all, a primal connection I can’t fight against much longer.

“It’s the truth,” he growls. “Your body is perfect. Your smile is perfect.You

are—”

“You shouldn’t be saying this,” I cut in, my voice weak. “Youknowyou shouldn’t. You’re my step-uncle.”

It’s a fact we both know, but I throw it out there as a last-ditch effort to put the brakes on this.

“I know,” he says. “It’s wrong, but it’s the truth.”

I fold my arms, glaring up at him. “So, I guess we’re done pretending we never kissed, huh?”

Behaving confrontationally is the only way I can defend against the desire within. It doesn’t stop, not even for a second, constantly pulsing within me, screaming at me, demanding things I shouldn’t want… things Ineed.

“I tried,” he says.

I laugh, hating how mean I sound, but not sure how else to go about this.

“Did you really?”

“If I hadn’t tried…” He movesevencloser. “I would’ve kissed you the second I walked through the door.”

“Why are you saying this?”

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