Without warning, I reached down and gave her ass a hard smack.
"That's for spray painting my car," I said.
Her breath hitched, and she bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile. "You're such a caveman."
"Caveman? How about this?" I said, smacking her...
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Esmeralda's POV – 3 Years Ago
The wedding was a blur of shimmering lights, tinkling laughter, and the clink of champagne glasses. Everything felt surreal as I stood there, dressed in a soft blush gown that made me feel like a princess, with my hair done up in loose waves and a crown of flowers. Mom had insisted I looked "perfect," like the youngest daughter of a soon-to-be socialite should.
Yet, none of that mattered when I saw him.
Caleb Fergusson.
He was leaning against the bar, a drink clutched in his hand, and from the way his eyes were glazed over, it was clear he was already too far gone. Even drunk, there was something so magnetic about him. His brown hair fell in messy waves over his forehead.
I should have been disgusted cause he's my step brother, I know that. Trevor had warned me to stay away from him – said Caleb was nothing but trouble. But I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop my eyes from trailing over to him every time I thought no one was watching. He didn't even seem to care about the wedding – his father's wedding – like it was just another thing to get through before he could leave.
And then, everything changed.
It was after the vows, during the reception when things spiraled. One second, I was standing with Gwen, trying to force a smile through all the congratulations, and the next, I saw Trevor lunging at Caleb.
"Back off, you piece of—" Trevor's voice echoed through the room as he shoved Caleb against the wall, knocking over a vase. Glass shattered, and the guests gasped, but all I could see was Caleb's smirk, blood dripping from his lip as if he wasn't fazed at all.
They fought right there, in front of everyone. Caleb threw a punch, landing squarely on Trevor's jaw, but it wasn't just about the fight. It was personal. Raw. There was venom in Caleb's eyes, something so dark I couldn't understand it.
"Is this all you got, Kensington?" Caleb spat, swaying slightly as he squared up to my brother.
Gwen tried to intervene, but Caleb shot her a look that froze her in place. I'd never seen her look so shaken. "Get out of my face, Gwen," he snarled, his voice dripping with something sharp and broken.
I should have hated him. I should have felt disgusted by the way he taunted Trevor, how he made Gwen flinch. But I couldn't. There was something deeper there, something I couldn't explain. He wasn't just a bad boy acting out. There was pain behind those brown eyes, pain he was drowning in alcohol.
But then, he noticed me.
I don't even know how long he'd been staring, but when our eyes locked, something shifted in him. The chaos of the night melted away, and suddenly, it was just the two of us in that crowded ballroom.
"Hey, cherry," he slurred, pushing past Trevor and Gwen, stumbling toward me. He was close, too close, the smell of whiskey heavy on his breath. "All dolled up, huh? What are you, fifteen? Sixteen?"
"Fifteen," I whispered, my throat suddenly dry. I wanted to step back, but I couldn't. My feet were glued to the floor.
Caleb leaned down, his breath hot against my neck, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. "You shouldn't be wearing that dress. You're too... innocent for this crowd," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm, his fingers brushing against the sleeve of my gown. "Bet you don't even know what men like me could do to a girl like you."
I swallowed hard, my heart hammering in my chest. His words felt heavy, wrong, but there was a part of me, a small part, that wasn't scared. I was curious. Drawn to the darkness in him.
"What's wrong, cherry? Cat got your tongue?" he teased, his voice low and husky, leaning in so close his lips almost brushed my ear. "You should stay away from guys like me. But something tells me... you don't want to."
I couldn't respond. I didn't know how. His presence was suffocating, intoxicating in a way that made my head spin. And then, as quickly as he'd invaded my space, he pulled back, eyes scanning me up and down one last time.
"Shame," he muttered, his voice trailing off as he stumbled away, leaving me standing there, breathless and shaken.
After that night, I never saw him again. Not until now, anyway.
I was shipped off to the States before I could even make sense of what had happened. My mind replayed that moment for weeks, months. I hated myself for it – for not pushing him away, for not telling Trevor or Gwen. But the truth was, I didn't want to. As much as I should have despised him, I found myself thinking about him, about his broken smile, the look in his eyes, and the way he made me feel so small and fragile, yet so alive.
But it didn't matter anymore. It was just one night. A memory that should have faded.
So why, after all this time, did he still have such a hold on me?
