Noah's POV
By around nine in the morning, Adrian was getting ready to leave. I stayed inside, standing near the patio window with a cup of coffee in my hand.
From there, I could see them clearly—Adrian outside, loading his bags into the truck, and Olivia next to him, her arms folded against the morning chill. They leaned in close, sharing small kisses between his trips to the truck.
Each time he kissed her, something burned inside my chest.
My fingers tightened around the cup so hard I felt the ceramic press into my skin. For a second, I wondered if it would crack and spill hot coffee everywhere.
I watched as she fixed the collar of his coat, and he laughed at something she said. I couldn't hear their words from here, but I didn't really need to. The picture was clear enough.
A thought slipped into my mind, quiet at first.
Do I even have a chance? Or am I just... the extra person in this house?
My vision seemed to darken a little at the edges as I watched them being sweet together.
I let out a small, humorless smirk.
"Great," I muttered under my breath. "What am I even doing?"
Then another thought came, sharper this time.
He's leaving.
My eyes followed him as he closed the truck door and walked back to her for one last kiss.
"I'll grab the opportunity to check my chances now that the tiger is leaving the den open," I told myself silently.
It sounded crazy, even in my own head. He's my brother. I know that. I know what kind of person that makes me look like.
But my heart argued back. There's no harm in knowing, right? No harm in checking if there's even a small space for me in her heart.
"She's mine for the next two days…" I whispered, the words tasting both wrong and tempting.
Outside, Adrian wrapped his arms around her one last time. I set my cup down before my hand shook and gave me away.
Olivia's POV
I kissed Adrian one last time by the truck, my hands resting on his chest.
"Text me when you get there," I said.
"I will," he replied.
His thumb brushed my cheek, and he gave me one more quick kiss on the lips before stepping back into the truck. The engine started with a low rumble.
"Be careful on the road!" I called out.
He leaned out the window and smiled.
"Take care of the house for me," he said. "And take care of Noah, too."
I laughed and waved as he pulled out of the driveway and drove down the road until he turned the corner and vanished from sight.
The morning suddenly felt quieter.
When I turned back toward the house, I saw Noah standing inside, looking at me through the patio window. His face was unreadable from that distance, but when I opened the door and stepped in, he was already walking toward me.
He greeted me at the door with a warm smile.
"So, he's off?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said, taking a breath.
I slipped off my shoes and placed them by the door.
"Why didn't you come out and see him off with me?" I asked, looking at him.
He shrugged slightly, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"I didn't want to ruin your moment," he said.
Something about the way he said it made me blink, but I just smiled.
"It's not ruining anything," I replied. "You're his brother."
"Still," he said softly. "It felt like your scene, not mine."
I didn't know what to say to that, so I let it go.
"I'm going to make brunch," I said.
He followed me toward the kitchen.
"What are you planning to make?" he asked.
I opened the fridge and looked inside. Not many cooked leftovers, just basics.
"Something simple. Maybe toast and scrambled eggs?"
I grabbed a loaf of bread from the fridge and set it on the counter. Then I reached back in for the milk. At the same time, Noah reached in too.
Instead of the milk, his hand closed over mine.
I froze.
His fingers wrapped around my hand firmly. I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep me there.
He was standing very close now. Close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body. I looked up, and he was already staring down at me, his eyes locked on mine.
For a second, everything else faded—the hum of the fridge, the faint sound of a car passing outside, even my own breathing.
I could feel his breath on my face, soft and warm.
His face lowered, slowly, carefully, like he was giving me time to stop him if I wanted to. The space between us shrank, inch by inch.
My heart began to pound so loud it felt like it might jump out of my chest. My throat tightened.
Then, just before his face got too close, I yanked my hand free.
"I—uh…" I stepped back quickly and turned away from him. "I'll, um… start with the bread."
I grabbed the loaf and focused on the wrapper, fingers picking at the plastic like it was the most important thing in the world. I pulled and folded and pressed the edges again and again, just to have something to do.
The air felt thick and awkward.
For a moment, he didn't say anything. Then, suddenly, he stepped closer and gently took the bread from my hands.
"I'll toast this," he said, his voice calm, almost too calm. "You make the scrambled eggs instead. Deal?"
I swallowed and nodded quickly, still avoiding his eyes.
"Okay," I said, turning toward the stove.
I grabbed the eggs from the counter and broke them into a bowl, my hands moving faster than usual. My heart hadn't calmed down yet. I felt almost out of breath, like I had been running when I hadn't even moved much.
After a moment, I turned my head slightly and saw his back as he stood at the counter, preparing the toast.
I watched him for a few seconds, lost in thought.
I felt it.
He isn't just being friendly.
He is purposely tossing more wood into a bonfire that was already starting to burn.
And even though I knew I should step away from the fire, I could feel myself standing there, too close to the heat, pretending not to notice the flames growing higher.