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Chapter 5

A L E X

I’ve never heard her speak before, never heard her voice. There has always been distance between us, I made sure of it. But for some reason the moment I hear it, I can tell it is her. It sounds like her, and I am myself weirded out by that thought. But it does sound like her. Soft, challenging, and a little pulling as if the moment I hear it, I am liable to turn and look at her, I am required to answer.

But I don’t. I don’t move at all. I keep facing the fridge, hoping that somehow I get camouflaged with this kitchen. Her footsteps are loud as they break the silence of the room and I realize she is not coming in from outside, no, her footsteps sound from the other side of the house. I walked into the den.

Fuck.

May be if I just scoot and crawl…

“Sophia?” she speaks again, and I go stiffer, as if that is going to help at all. She walks closer, I hear her footsteps. A few more steps, and she’s going to see me here and then tell Sophia I watched her swim naked right in front of me and my sister will never look at my face again.

“Sophia!” she yells again. “Did you hear me? I said someone saw me swimming naked on the beach! I think it was your-”

I thank the can that slips and falls to the floor, making her stop right when she was about to take my name–*I wonder if she knows my name. I wonder if she calls me Alex, or Alessandro. *

*I wonder if I’m going insane. *

I turn to find her looking right at me, her honey brown eyes sharp and blaming. *She knows it was me, and she’s come here to tell Sophia. *

She opens her mouth to speak, and my eyes fall on her lips, I hate it when she stops and closes her mouth. I hate it even more when I find out why.

“Grace.” My sister walks out of her bedroom, her blonde hair is a mess, compared to Grace’s. Her voice is groggy like she was sleeping. “Alex?” she looks at me with utterly confused eyes, but then her eyes soften into a smile, and she runs up to me and into my arms. I close my hands around her and spin her around while she shrieks with joy–a sound I’ve been dying to hear. When I stop, I find Grace’s eyes, just as sharp and full of blame, still staring into mine. One more second of her gaze at me and it gets a little too prickly for me to let her be.

I know I deserve it, partially, but no one glares at Alessandro Moretti. Not even the girl who looks adorable doing it.

I tilt my head, narrow my eyes, and a spell breaks inside her, making her look away. My eyes follow her every movement as her tongue darts out to lick her lips that seem to have gone dry. Because of me? The sight of her squirming under my gaze is something I do not hate so much, what’s scarier is that I want to see it again.

“Alex?” Sophia says and pulls away from me, making me turn my gaze to her.

She’s looking at me expectantly, so I probably missed a question. “What?” I ask softly.

“I said who told you I was here? I wanted to surprise you.” She steps away from me and bends to pick up the spilled can of milk. “Which is why I told Lizzy my flight was later today.”

I look at Grace, wondering if she will answer it for me. He saw me swimming naked this morning, that’s how. But she doesn’t, she only levels my glare with a weaker one of her own. “I smelled coffee,” I lie, and suddenly Grace’s weak gaze hardens, making something shift inside me.

“Right,” Sophia sings and dances around to reach her coffee machine. I take the free moment to study Grace, so I can analyze how long I have before she rats me out. She is wearing a tank top now that shows a lot more skin than her hoodie, but a lot less than when she was swimming in nothing. As my gaze follows the soft green vein on her arm, I notice her freckles, sprinkled not only on her face but across her body, on her arms, in the gap of her belly and her thighs. I take a deep breath. Her hair that seemed pretty straight earlier at the beach have turned a little wavy after drying out, though they are still just as dark. But I know all of this already, I've watched her a little too much, a little too closely in the past many years to not miss any details. I could draw her from memory if only I still had the art for it.

And I hate the fact just as much.

I try not to look at her face, but then my will power fails against my curiosity.

It’s funny, she looks offended as much as she looks confused. And weirdly enough, between all of that, there is a flicker of fear, intimidation.

I like that, I think I almost smile at that thought.

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