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She could have been seriously hurt. Her head was a hair away from slamming on the corner of my desk. My pulse was pounding like a hammer when I saw her fall.
And it kept hammering.
It’s pounding still.
“Well, I’m heading out.”
Her husky voice curls through my insides, clenching my gut. With effort, I keep my head down for a beat, not wanting her to see my inner turmoil on my face. I form what I hope is a polite smile before looking up. “You did great today.”
She snorts. “I know you’re lying. You’ve been annoyed with me all day. I’m sorry I invaded your space.”
My head jerks back. Is that really what she thinks? “Mariana, I haven’t been annoyed with you at all.”
She stares at me skeptically, making my face warm. God, I must have really been transparent today, though she misinterpreted the reason. How could I have allowed myself to be so cold to her?
“I mean it,” I say. “I’ve been very stressed today about…something else, and I’m realizing now that I must have taken it out on you. For that, I’m very sorry.”
She expels a breath through pursed lips. “I didn’t even think of that. I’m sorry if I took it personally.”
I shake my head sharply. “Don’t apologize. It was your first day. You’re helping me out of a bind. And here I was rude to you. I am very sorry.”
She smiles sweetly, and something loosens in my chest.
Oh God, this isn’t good. This pent-up lust is swaying into tender territory, and I can’t feel tenderness for this woman.
Not this kind of tenderness, at least. It’s not at all familial.
It’s the kind that makes me want to pull her onto my lap and nuzzle my face against hers. I want to call hermyMariana.
Clearly, aiming for distance from her didn’t do me a lick of good.
God, please show me the way. Help me through this.
ChapterSeven
Mariana
With one hand on the steering wheel, I use the other to knead my shoulders, sending tingles down my spine. God, what a day.
I don’t need to tell Sofia about how curt Brandon was with me all day—that he seems to think I’m just as irresponsible as the rest of my family does. She certainly doesn’t need to know about the ottoman incident.
I’ll have to think of something good to tell her. He did assign me an important organizing task, though I had to practically beg him to let me do it. But it allowed me to browse through all kinds of Biblical history books, which will probably sound impressive to her.
As I walk into our apartment, the scent of warm cookies hits my nose. A smile tugs at my lips. Baking was our thing growing up. Something just Sofia and I shared. My mom was too precious about her culinary processes to let me participate in cooking or baking, but Sofia always did, from the moment she was old enough to do it herself.
There’s a skip in my step as I walk through the living room, but as soon as I enter the kitchen, my stomach plummets.
Sofia and her best friend, Danielle, are both smiling over a bowl of batter. Dani pours a bag of chocolate chips while Sofia stirs. They make such a pretty picture.
You’ve been replaced, Mari.
What a childish thought, yet I can’t reason this ache in my chest away. Sofia wasmine. My big sister. She used to go out of her way to arrange girls’ nights for just the two of us, with cookie baking and Netflix binges.
Until Finn came into the picture. I didn’t like him, and that meant Sofia pushed me into the periphery of her life.
When I set my work bag on a kitchen chair and walk to the counter, Sofia’s smile falters, but I don’t let it deter me. “Hey, Dani,” I say.
“How was your first day?” Sofia asks without looking my way.
