My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 548

Chapter 548

I laughed softly, “You spend months acting emotionally unavailable.”

“I was emotionally unavailable.”

“You gave me whiplash.”

His expression remained serious, “I did not do it intentionally.”

Raphael’s hand slid slightly higher against my waist.

“I know now.”

Raphael’s hand slid slightly higher against my waist.

“Do you know what the worst part was?”

His eyes searched mine, “What?”

I looked down briefly, because suddenly this felt terrifying, more terrifying than anything he had admitted tonight, “After all that, I couldn’t stop what I felt for you. Which was honestly very hard for me.”

His hand tightened slightly against my waist.

I swallowed, “There were so many reasons it was a terrible idea. You were intimidating. You barely talked about your feelings. You confused me constantly. Sometimes I genuinely thought you hated me.”

His eyebrows pulled together immediately, “I never hated you.”

“You did. You called me a gold digger.”

His expression flattened, “That was one time.”

“One time?” I repeated. “You looked at me like I was personally responsible for the collapse of western civilization.”

A faint grimace appeared on his face.

“You were horrible,” I added.

“I was suspicious.”

“You were rude.”

“I was conducting due diligence.”

“On me?”

“You were living in my house.”

I stared at him in disbelief, “See? This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

His hand tightened slightly at my waist, “For the record,” he said, completely serious, “I regretted that almost immediately.”

I blinked, “Immediately?”

A pause, “Within forty-eight hours.”

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My mouth fell open, “Raphael!”

“What?”

“That is not immediately.”

“It is for me.”

I smiled, shaking my head and then I looked away for a second, toward the sleeping animals, anywhere except him because this part felt too exposed.

“When it first happened, I kept waiting for it to go away,” my voice had become quieter, “It didn’t.”

Raphael listened completely focused without interrupting, the way he always did.

“I told myself I was imagining things,” I laughed weakly, “Then you would do something ridiculous.”

His expression remained serious, “What qualifies as ridiculous?”

I looked up at him, my chest tightening. “It was a hundred little things, Raphael. The way you always seemed to know when I was struggling before anyone else did. The way you took care of me when I wasn’t even taking care of myself. The hunt you arranged for me. The app you built so reading wouldn’t feel like a battle every day. The way you helped me when I was hurting myself. The job you gave me when I had no confidence left, when I didn’t believe I was capable of anything. You made me feel useful. You made me feel proud of myself again. And you listened, really listened. Every small thing I told you mattered to you. You remembered things nobody else would’ve remembered.”

The lump in my throat returned.

“I kept trying to convince myself it didn’t mean anything because you didn’t… It never worked and I was scared to tell you.”

The confession came out barely above a whisper.

Raphael became very still, “Why?”

I laughed softly because the answer felt obvious, “Because you were Raphael.”

His forehead creased.

That only made me smile, “See? That’s exactly what I mean.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know.”

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