Dangerous Games

Adeline POV

Three days. I have managed to avoid being alone with Raymond for three days.

I helped Mom in the kitchen, met up with high school friends, found excuses to be anywhere he isn’t . But our house wasn’t that big, and avoidance only worked for so long.

I was curled up on my bed with my laptop, half-heartedly browsing job sites, when I heard the shower start running down the hall.

Mom had left an hour before for her book club, which meant I was alone in the house with him.

The sound of water hitting tile made my pulse quicken, and suddenly I couldn’t focus on the résumé I was supposed to be updating.

All I could think about was him naked, with water running down that incredible body, his hands…

“Stop,” I whispered to myself.

But I couldn’t stop. Every night since I had been home, I had lain awake remembering.

The weight of him, the way he had touched me like I was something precious, the things he had whispered against my skin that made me feel alive for the first time in my life.

And every morning, I saw him at breakfast, perfectly polite and distant, acting like we were nothing more than awkward step-relatives.

The shower shut off, and I knew I should go downstairs, I should be putting distance between us. Instead, I found myself frozen, listening to him move around the master bedroom. My mother’s bedroom.

This was torture.

A soft knock on my door made me jump out of my skin.

“Adeline? Can I please come in?”

I should have said no. Should have told him to leave me alone, that we had agreed to keep our distance.

“Yeah,” I heard myself say.

The door opened, and he stepped inside wearing jeans and a t-shirt, his hair still damp from the shower. He looked younger like that, less intimidating, but somehow that just made everything worse.

“Your mother will be back soon,” he said, closing the door behind him. “We needed to establish some boundaries.”

“Such as?”

“No more looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want me.” His voice was strained. “It is going to give us away.”

He was right. I could feel it in the way my breath caught when he walked into a room, the way heat flooded my cheeks when our eyes met accidentally. Mom might have been in love, but she wasn’t stupid.

“Fine,” I said. “No looking.”

“No being alone together.”

“We are alone now.”

“That was the last time.”

“Good.”

But neither of us moved. He was standing by the door like he wanted to bolt, but his eyes were fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin burn.

“This is killing me,” he said quietly. “Having you here, seeing you every day, pretending I don’t remember—”

“Don’t.” I cut him off because I couldn’t hear this. “Don’t say it.”

“Don’t say what? That I couldn’t stop thinking about you? That every time I see you I remembered how you felt—”

“Stop.” But there was no strength in my voice.

He took a step closer, and I could see the war happening in his eyes. Desire battling with guilt, need fighting with responsibility.

“We can’t do this,” I whispered.

“I know.”

Another step closer. “She is my mother.”

“I know that too.”

“She loves you.”

“And I am trying to love her back.” His voice broke slightly. “But all I can think about is you.”

The air between us crackled with electricity. I should have moved away, should have reminded him of all the reasons this was impossible. Instead, I found myself standing up, moving toward him.

“This is insane,” I breathed.

“Completely insane.”

But his hands were reaching for me then, and I wasn’t pulling away. When his fingers touched my face, I leaned into the contact like I had been starving for it.

“We can’t ,” I whispered, even as I was stepping closer.

“Tell me to stop.”

I should have. God, I should have. But the words wouldn’t come.

He kissed me instead, soft and desperate, and every rational thought evaporated. His mouth moved over mine like he had been dying for this, and I melted against him completely.

“This is wrong…I should be angry,” I gasped against his lips.

But his hands were in my hair then, and I was pulling him closer, and nothing had ever felt more right in my life.

When he lifted me onto my desk, scattering papers everywhere, I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him between them. Three days of tension and denial exploded into desperate need.

His hands slid under my shirt, and I arched into his touch with a soft moan. It had been too long since I had felt his skin against mine, since I had felt this alive.

“Adeline,” he breathed against my neck, and hearing my name in that voice destroyed what was left of my self-control.

I was reaching for the hem of his shirt when we heard the unmistakable sound of a car in the driveway.

We froze, both breathing hard, staring at each other with wide, panicked eyes.

“Shit,” Raymond whispered.

I heard mom's voice up from downstairs. “I am home! The Book club ended early!”

Reality crashed back in like a bucket of ice water. I scrambled off the desk, smoothing my shirt with shaking hands while Raymond ran his fingers through his hair.

“Go,” I hissed. “She can’t see you in here.”

He nodded, moving toward the door, but paused with his hand on the handle.

“Adeline—”

“Just go.”

He slipped out just as I heard Mom’s footsteps on the stairs. I grabbed a random paper and pretended to be reading it, praying my face didn’t betray what had just happened.

“Sweetheart?” Mom knocked on my door. “How was the job hunt going?”

“Good,” I called back, amazed at how normal my voice sounded. “Making progress.”

“That is wonderful. Have you seen Raymond? His car was here but—”

“I thought he went for a walk,” I lied.

“Oh, okay. Well, dinner in an hour?”

“Sounds perfect mom.”

Her footsteps retreated, and I collapsed back onto my bed, heart still racing. That had been too close. Way too close.

My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: This can’t happen again. We had to be more careful.

I stared at the message, my hands still shaking. He was right. What had just happened was beyond reckless. If Mom had walked in five minutes earlier…

I typed back…I know. It was a mistake.

But even as I sent the message, I knew it was a lie. It hadn’t felt like a mistake.

And that was exactly why it was so dangerous.