Sienna's POV

I didn’t sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Rhett. The hallway. The game. His mouth a few inches away from mine. His words—like a match struck too close to dry wood.

“Kiss me.”

Almost like it won't stop playing in my head.

By morning, I was a walking wire. Tense. Tight. Ticking.

When I got to her car for a drive to school, she noticed before I said a word.

"What the hell happened to you?" she asked as I strapped in my seatbelt.

"Nothing."

She narrowed her eyes. "Don’t pull that silent martyr crap with me. You didn’t text me last night. That’s almost illegal. What happened?"

I sighed, dropped my head back against the seat. "Rhett."

Her expression twisted. Equal parts exasperation and curiosity. "Again? Did he confess his undying love and offer to write your name in blood?"

I rolled my eyes.

“Oh my gosh don't tell me....He bumped into you naked”

"No silly. I'll kill myself if that ever happens. It was a truth or dare game. He dared me to kiss him in front of everyone."

Her jaw dropped. "And what did you do?"

"I left.”

Her eyes got widder. “Just like that?”

“Yeah just like that. I stormed out like a drama queen and now I can’t breathe right."

She handed me my latte like it was a sedative. "Babe. You’re already in too deep."

"He gets under my skin. And now, thanks to Professor Liu, I have to work with him. For months."

"Capstone partners?"

I nodded.

"Sweet Jesus. You'll be the envy of everyone in school."

“I guess.” I said disinterestedly.

We parked and sat in the car, sipping and staring into nothing.

"You ever think," I murmured, "maybe we keep running from the things we want most because deep down we’re terrified they’ll ruin us?"

Lia blinked. "Whoa. Are you okay? That was dangerously close to poetry."

We laughed. "Shut up."

Rhett wasn’t in the ethics lecture today. or the next day even. Maxwell was back, boring as ever. I barely heard a word. All I saw was Rhett. Teaching beautifully. I was in a dream world.

I looked up only to see Rhett staring at me from the patio.

what the fuck are you doing here?

I wanted to scream. But I went to the library instead. Because pretending to care about my future was better than drowning in my feelings and daydreaming about my stepbrother.

I had just settled into a study cubicle when a text pinged.

Rhett: Simulation briefing. Professor Liu. Her office. Now.

Of course.

I found him leaning against Liu's doorframe. Arms crossed. Hair slightly messy. Black hoodie. Eyes that dragged heat up my spine.

"You didn’t respond," he said.

"You didn’t ask."

He smirked. "Sassy this morning."

"Get used to it."

“Ice queen I love your bite.”

Professor Liu waved us in. "I’m thrilled to have you two work together. High potential. High conflict. This could be explosive."

I blinked. "Are you... encouraging us to fight?"

"Friction breeds brilliance," she said cheerfully.

"You two will be roleplaying a crisis negotiation between two hostile organizations. You’re on the peace team."

Rhett grinned. "So we get to make people play nice while we hate each other."

"Exactly," Liu said. "I want weekly progress updates. Role integrity. Emotional complexity. Think method acting, but for law."

"We get to pick our orgs?" I asked.

"Yes. You have full creative license. Just make it convincing."

We stepped outside after the meeting. I turned to Rhett. "We need rules."

"Rules?"

"No flirting. No games. No cheap shots in front of Liu. And definitely no kissing."

He chuckled. "You forgot one."

"What?"

He stepped closer, voice low. "No pretending we don’t want to."

Heat rose to my cheeks. I quickly walked away before I did something reckless.

By Thursday, we’d chosen our simulation roles. I was director of an NGO fighting for displaced civilians. Rhett was the military strategist leading peace talks on behalf of a splinter government. Power imbalance? Check. Tension? Definitely.

Lia helped us draft the fictional history. She took notes while Rhett and I bickered over territorial disputes and imaginary war crimes like it was our job.

"You two need therapy," she muttered.

"We need a ceasefire," I replied.

"You need to bang," she corrected under her breath.

I kicked her lightly under the table and she winced. Rhett saw it. Smirked.

"If you guys are done kicking each other," he said, "maybe we can figure out how your organization managed to plant aid centers in occupied zones."

"Because we actually care about people, unlike your warmongering faction."

"We provide structure. You provide chaos wrapped in sentiment."

"You’re delusional."

He leaned back, hands behind his head. "It's just psychology.” He winced. “And you’re hot when you’re righteous."

"You’re exhausting to deal with."

Lia raised a hand. "Hey, Professor Liu said high conflict, not high foreplay."

I groaned. "Can we focus?"

By Friday, the storm hit.

Angela was hosting a formal fundraiser. One of her many high-society performances. I had no intention of attending. Until she left a silk dress on my bed with a handwritten note:

"Be civil. Just for one night. Please. You're part of the family now."

I glared at the dress for an hour. Then put it on.

Maybe because I needed to remember how to breathe around people who didn’t turn my bones to smoke and made me want to blow my brains out or whatever I don't know.

When I stepped out, the ballroom at the hotel shimmered with chandeliers and money. The music was soft, the food pretentious. Angela kissed both my cheeks, radiant in gold.

"You look stunning," she whispered. "Try to enjoy it."

I spotted my dad across the room, drink in hand, nodding along to a story told by someone in a three-piece suit.

Then, of course, I saw Rhett.

Dark navy tux. No tie. Tattoo just visible under his collar. Hair slicked back like he belonged on a magazine cover. Actually dripping with hotness.

He saw me. Smirked.

I headed straight for the bar.

"Vodka. Something strong."

"You hate vodka," a familiar voice said beside me.

"You don't even know what I like. Well tonight I hate everything."

"So... you got my text?"

"Which one? The one about rules or the one you broke five minutes after we made them?"

He didn’t look apologetic. "You look beautiful."

"You look like trouble."

He leaned against the bar, eyes burning. "What if I told you I want more than games now?"

"I’d say you’re lying to yourself."

"And if I said I meant it?"

I stared at him. My heart thundered.

But before I could answer, Angela appeared. "Rhett, darling. I need you to meet someone from the board."

He glanced at me. "To be continued."

My eyes rolled.

Angela noticed the tension. Her eyes narrowed. "Everything okay?"

"Sure," I said flatly.

She hesitated, then left.

I needed air. Again.

I slipped out the back into a rooftop garden. The night was cold. The sky pinpricked with stars I didn’t care about. I sat on a stone bench and buried my face in my hands.

"You can’t keep running," Lia’s voice said beside me.

I jumped. "Jesus, Lia. You scared me."

She sat down, handed me a stolen dessert. "Angela told me you looked pale. I told her it was probably because of your stepbrother."

"He’s not my brother."

"You keep saying that. Your mouth says it. Your body says something else."

"Lia."

She turned toward me, eyes fierce. "You like him. And he likes you. And if you keep pretending it doesn’t mean anything, you’re going to end up with a whole lot of regret and nothing to show for it."

"It’s complicated."

"What is? Everything worth having is complicated."

I stared at the stars. "I'm scared.”

Her hands rubbed mine. "tell me about it.”

“I don’t want to lose myself in him. Since my mother....”

"Shhhhhhh..... you don't have to. Just... let yourself have something."

Before I could respond, the door opened.

Rhett.

He stopped when he saw us. Hands in his pockets.

"Should I come back later?"

Lia stood. "Nope. I was just leaving."

She winked at me. "Don't waste it."

And then she was gone.

Rhett approached slowly. "You okay?"

"Depends. Are you going to start another round of argument or try to kiss me again?"

He smiled faintly. "Neither. Or maybe. I don’t know. I just... wanted to see you. To check if you're fine with all the noise."

We stood in silence. The night pressed in.

Then he said, "Come with me."

I frowned. "What?"

"Right now. Let’s get out of here."

"And go where?"

"Anywhere that isn’t full of fake people and rules we didn’t agree to."

I hesitated.

"Trust me," he said softly.

I looked at the ballroom behind us. At the safe life, the structured version of me that fit everyone else’s mold.

I looked at my uptight self.

Then I looked at him. Wild, reckless and maybe real.

And I nodded.

We left. Out the side doors. Past the valet. Into the night.

But we weren’t alone.

Because just as we turned the corner of the building, flashes popped. Cameras.

Click.

Click.

Click.

And a voice I recognized from every sleazy tabloid site shouted—

"Rhett Carter! Tell us about her. Is that your stepsister? Are you two dating?"