Steps of Desire

I woke up the next morning feeling like I had run a marathon in my sleep. My hair stuck everywhere, my throat felt dry, and the stupid butterflies in my stomach wouldn't calm down. I hated that they were because of him. Ryan, my accidental new... everything.

I slid out of bed, feet hitting the cold floor, and dragged myself to the bathroom. The mirror showed the truth: puffy eyes, a faint pillow mark on my cheek, and a messy bun that had clearly lost the will to live.

"Cute," I muttered, splashing cold water on my face.

Downstairs, the house was already buzzing with noise. Someone clattering dishes, soft classical music (Mom's favorite), and the low hum of the espresso machine. I inhaled deeply, bracing myself.

When I reached the kitchen, Ryan was already there like he owned the place. His shirt was slightly lifted where he leaned on the counter, exposing sharp abs that made me swallow hard. His hair was messy in a deliberate way that screamed; I woke up like this but still look better than you.

He glanced over his shoulder the moment I stepped in. "You look like you lost a fight with your pillow," he said with a straight face.

I grabbed the nearest apple and threw it at him. "Shut up."

He caught it with one hand without barely looking at it and took a bite. "I see mornings bring out your charm," he said.

I wanted to roll my eyes, but Mrs. Caldwell chose that moment to sweep into the kitchen wearing a silk robe and an expression that made me stand straighter instantly.

"Ella, dear," she said, voice sugary but sharp underneath. "You'll need to look more presentable, we have brunch reservations with the Harringtons."

I blinked. "Who?"

Her lips tightened. "Important family friends."

Ryan smirked like he could feel the annoyance radiating off me. I sucked in a breath. "Sure."

Mrs. Caldwell left the room leaving the scent of expensive perfume trailing behind her.

I turned to Ryan. "Is your mother always like... that?"

He shrugged. "Always." Then he added, "You get used to it."

There was something there, something that made me pause. But before I could ask, Liam barged in through the patio door like a tornado.

"Ry-an!" he shouted, dragging out the name like a kid calling for ice cream. He spotted me and grinned. "Oh! You must be Ella. Hi. I'm Liam, the emotional support friend."

I laughed in a surprised manner. "What does that even mean?"

"He means he annoys me for fun," Ryan muttered.

Liam flopped onto a barstool. "Well somebody has to balance your angry-iceberg energy." I snorted and Ryan glared at me.

"See? She agrees," Liam said triumphantly.

Ryan shook his head but he didn't deny it. Sophie FaceTimed me right then, her timing always dramatic. Her face popped up on the screen with a bright smile, braids tied up, already sipping iced coffee as she lived in a music video.

"Girl. Tell me everything, does he annoy you yet?"

I angled the camera so she could see him. She leaned back like she had been slapped. "Oh wow. That's him? The stepbrother? I expected... a softer and less intense look. Why does he look like he fires people for breathing wrong?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Who's that?"

"My best friend," I said. "Ignore her."

"Ignore him," Sophie shot back. "Ella, blink twice if he's already giving you drama."

"Oh trust me, she's blinking," Liam chimed in.

I groaned. "I hate all of you."

Ryan smirked. "No you don't."

And I hated that he was right.

By the time brunch rolled around, I was dressed in a soft cream blouse and high-waisted jeans that made me feel like I had tried but not too hard. Mom inspected me like I was a product on display, but she only said, "Acceptable," which was basically her version of applause.

Ryan walked down the stairs at that exact moment, adjusting his sleeves. I swear that shirt fits him too well on purpose. His eyes landed on me for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

"You clean up," he said simply.

"Barely," I muttered, but something tight pulled in my chest.

The Harringtons' restaurant was all glass windows and overpriced brunch plates. The moment we sat, the air turned stiff. Mrs. Caldwell was all smiles, but Mom tried too hard. The Harringtons acted like they were auditioning for a royalty role.

But me? I was too busy pretending not to notice how Ryan's knee kept brushing mine under the table. It wasn't constant but just enough to throw my heartbeat into chaos.

At one point I shifted slightly, and his knee pressed into mine again. It was more deliberate this time.

I glared at him but he didn't even look at me, he just kept eating like nothing had happened.

Liam texted the group chat (yes, somehow there was a group chat already):

Liam: U two look weirdly tense over there.

Sophie: He's touching you isn't he

Me: OMG CAN YALL CHILL

Sophie: No

Liam: Definitely no

I hid my phone before I screamed. Halfway through brunch, the Harrington son, Jake. He arrived late. He's also tall with golden hair and a polished smile. The kind of guy who smelled like expensive cologne and privilege.

He sat right next to me and was way too close. "Ella, right?" he asked, flashing a smooth smile. "I've heard about you."

I blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah. Ryan mentioned you yesterday."

My breath caught. "He did?"

Ryan's jaw tightened. "Barely."

Jake chuckled. "He undersold you."

I felt heat rise to my face, and Ryan's expression shifted into something sharp, something almost possessive.

"So Ella," Jake said, leaning closer, "maybe you and I could....."

"She's busy," Ryan cut in flatly.

I turned to him. "Excuse me? I can answer for myself."

He stared right at me, unmoving. "You don't know him."

"And you do?" I shot back.

Jake raised his hands. "Hey, I'm harmless." Ryan scoffed quietly.

I pushed my chair back. "I'm going for some air." I walked outside and the warm air hit my face as I breathed out shakily.

"You let guys like that get too close?" Ryan asked as he joined me.

I turned around, heat rising in my chest. "I talk to people and that's normal."

"Not him," he said.

"You don't get to decide that," I snapped.

He stepped closer with his eyes locked on mine. "I'm trying to look out for you," he said. "You just make it damn difficult."

"Because you come off like you own me," I said, my voice shaking with irritation.

His breath hitched. Something flickered in his eyes; heat, frustration, something I couldn't name. Then he moved one step closer and the air between us tightened.

He reached out to my waist, rubbing around my back like it was a normal thing to do. He froze and removed his hands immediately when he realized what he was doing. He stepped very close enough that I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. And for a second, I felt he was going to pull me closer for a kiss. My heart pounded against my ribs as I could feel the hesitation about whether he wanted to do something that was forbidden. 

"This... whatever this is... it can't happen."  He said with a rough voice while he stepped back.

My chest twisted. "Then stop starting it."

He looked at me like I had pinned him to a wall. He didn't respond, didn't deny it, or even pretend.

Mom called our names from inside, snapping the tension. Ryan exhaled hard and walked in first with his shoulders stiff. I followed slowly, breathing unevenly because I wasn't stupid.

I knew what that moment was and I guess knew too, but we both pretended like we didn't.

But pretending never lasts, not in a house like ours and not with feelings like this.

And I knew deep down that this was just the beginning.