My Stepbrother Wants Me Chapter 91: Sending Lucy Out- Part 1

Catherine’s POV

It was well into the evening when the expected knock finally ca.

"Co in," I called out.

Julian walked in, closing the door softly behind him. "Hey?"

"Hi," I said back. He took a few steps toward , and when he was standing right at my front, he leaned in quickly and tried to kiss .

I pulled back instantly, turning my face away just as his lips brushed my cheek instead of my mouth. I didn’t push him, but the ssage was clear.

He paused, his hands still hovering near my shoulders. "Hmm, are you still mad, Wildcat?" he asked, his voice low.

It’s been a while since he called that.

I gave a short, humorless laugh and tilted my head. "Mad? What do you think?" I watched his face closely. "Julian, were you planning to hide from that Lucy told you she suspected of being the one who assaulted her?"

He actually recoiled. His eyes widened slightly, and he took a quick step back. "How did you... how do you know that?"

"How I know isn’t the point," I said, standing up to face him fully. I folded my arms tightly across my chest. "The point is that you believed her. That’s why you insisted I go and see her, wasn’t it?"

"Ugh, no, absolutely not," he insisted, shaking his head quickly. "I didn’t believe her for a second. That’s why I asked you to go. I wanted Lucy to see you cared to check on her, so she would realize that you aren’t this monster she’s making you out to be in her head. She’s injured and traumatized; she’s hallucinating or just pointing the finger at the person she dislikes the most."

I let out a low, disbelieving sound, it was a cynical little "wow." "Wow. So let get this straight. The point is that she accused of a very serious, terrible cri and instead of cautioning her, instead of telling her that’s a ridiculous, hateful thing to say, you chose to send into her room as so kind of emotional proof to validate my innocence? You used to prove your point to her?"

Julian moved closer again, trying to take my hand, but I kept my arms folded. "Please, try to understand. Lucy is going through so much right now. All I wanted was to make her feel safe in this house, and to gently guide her away from these irrational thoughts."

I nodded slowly, continuously, a fake placid look settling on my face. "Fine," the word ca out clipped and cold. "I understand your priorities."

I let the subject of the assault drop for the mont, shifting imdiately to the next, more pressing matter. "How long does Lucy intend to live with us? She’s been here for close to two months. Is she staying until our parents get back?"

Julian looked flustered by the change in topic. "Actually, I have no idea. But when she’s well enough to talk, I will definitely talk to her about it."

I kept my arms folded. "No, Julian. She’s injured but she can still communicate." I t his gaze, hardening my eyes. "Until you talk with Lucy and find out exactly when she will be leaving, I have absolutely nothing to discuss with you about us."

He tried to protest. "Catherine, that’s unfair. Don’t do this again."

"I’m being serious," I cut in, my voice quiet but firm. "Right now, I think you care more about protecting Lucy and her feelings than you care about protecting from a false accusation she’s throwing around. Until you prove wrong? until you make my comfort a priority over hers, I don’t want to talk to you about anything."

He stood there, his mouth slightly open with no words coming out. I didn’t wait for him to respond. I just walked over to the door, opened it, and waited for him to leave. He gave a frustrated, defeated look, but he finally sighed and walked out. I shut the door and locked it. Round one of getting Lucy out of my life, complete.

*^

"Gosh, why can’t I sleep?" I tossed and turned until it beca unbearable.

I finally threw the covers off, deciding that pacing in my room would only drive mad. I needed to move, to occupy my hands. Maybe a glass of water, or so warm milk.

I slipped out of my room and crept down to the kitchen. I paused just inside the doorway when I saw I wasn’t alone.

Gabriel was there, sitting at the large wooden table, under-cabinet lighting. He wasn’t eating; he was just sitting, slowly nursing a drink, probably whiskey, judging by the color.

He looked up when he heard . He didn’t seem surprised, only weary. "Couldn’t sleep either?" he asked calmly.

I walked over to the counter and started pouring myself a glass of water. "I guess not. I have no idea why, honestly. Too much going on." I took a slow sip. "What about you? Why are you still up?"

He leaned back in his chair, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "I was going to play the piano for a while, but then I got down here, and... I ended up just changing my mind. I didn’t feel like listening to myself."

"Oh," I said. "That’s a sha. You should play now." I moved toward the table, leaning against the back of an empty chair. "It’s been ages since I heard you play. And is that offer to teach still up? I feel like I need a distraction."

For an unknown reason, he let out a short laugh. Did I make a joke? Well, it faded quickly, though. He stopped swirling the glass, and his face suddenly fell and the smile completely vanished.

I noticed the change imdiately. It was a complete shift, like a switch being flipped from amusent back to judgnt. I couldn’t help but wonder if I said anything stupid.

"Uhm... Did I say sothing wrong?" I asked quietly, pushing off the chair and taking a hesitant step closer.

He shook his head, looking down at his drink. "No. You didn’t."

Then, slowly, he looked up, and his gaze was focused and intense, holding captive. He bypassed the small talk, bypassing the music.

"Are you ready to tell the truth now, Catherine?" his voice barely above a whisper. "You can’t just try to move on from that. I don’t want to have to keep talking to soone who can’t trust ."

I knew exactly what he ant. He was still referring to Lucy’s accusation.

"Gabriel? Do you really want us to talk about that here?!" I hissed, imdiately looking around the room, although I knew everyone was asleep. I instinctively moved closer to him, lowering my own voice. "Soone could hear, please."

"No one will. I didn’t ntion anything. You can give what I want to hear without spilling the details."

Oh yeah, he was right.

I looked back at him, my expression begging for understanding. "I lied. I’m sorry. I was just... scared," I admitted, the confession tumbling out almost against my will. "I was terrified that you would pick her side, and that you would tell everyone. I didn’t want you to tell on ."

He set his glass down gently on the table. "Why do you have it all wrong? Can’t you see that I’m not that type of person?" The question was laid out in a hurtful tone. "I told you I didn’t know what to think, but I never said I was going to turn you in. I’m on your side. I don’t care about the other party."

I moved closer to the table, finally putting my hands down. "I know," I whispered, guilt washing over . "I just panicked. I’m sorry."

He nodded and looked at without saying anything, so we stood there for a long mont. I eventually reached out to grab the water glass I had placed on the table earlier. At the exact sa mont, Gabriel moved to pick up his whiskey glass and our hands brushed.

It wasn’t a harsh collision, just a soft contact of skin. My fingers skimd the back of his hand.

I realized his eyes were on , so I looked up, neither of us moved.

We stayed there, fingers touching the glass, neither pulling away, our eyes locked in the dim light of the kitchen.

Then, the sudden heat of the mont startled back to reality. Shit! What the hell was that?

I gasped slightly and yanked my hand away from the glass, taking a quick step back.

"So I... I’m going to bed," I mumbled, roughly and shakily. I didn’t wait for his reply. I turned and practically fled, leaving him alone.

My heart hamred wildly against my ribs, as a voice rang in my head. Has he caught feelings for you? No way! Not with Gabriel! It can’t be!