Each accidental touch sent that strange warmth racing through me, like my body was recognizing something my mind couldn’t quite grasp. It wasn’t just attraction—it was something deeper, more fundamental, like my very cells were responding to him on a level I couldn’t understand.
The moment the last can was shelved, I made my escape to my room.Strategic retreat, I told myself.Totally different from running away. Running away involves actual running. This is more of a brisk walk with purpose.
I was pretending to study Mandarin—because apparently, my life wasn’t complicated enough without adding characters to the mix—when Wei knocked. The sound made me jump, nearly sending my textbook flying.
“Come in,” I called, already dreading the incoming brotherly inquisition. Wei had that look in his eyes earlier, the one that said he was about to go full Sherlock Holmes on my personal life.
He sat on my bed, ruffling my hair like I was still eleven instead of a college student with a driver’s license. “So, you and Jaxson are doing your best impression of awkward exes at a wedding. Want to tell me what happened?”
My face burst into flames. I could practically feel my skin sizzling.Oh, you know, just your typical stepbrother hand job drama. Just another Tuesday in the Sinclair-Ji soap opera. Nothing special. Completely normal family stuff.
“Nothing happened,” I muttered, suddenly finding my textbook fascinating. Who knew Chinese characters could be so interesting? Look at all those strokes and radicals. Absolutely riveting.
“Right,” Wei drawled, his knowing smirk making my stomach drop to somewhere around my ankles. “And I’m secretly a K-pop idol. Come on, Lan’er. Jaxson's walking around like you just announced you're moving back to China, and you’re hiding in here like a manga protagonist with relationship troubles.”
“What are you trying to say, Wei?”Please don’t channel your inner Sherlock Holmes right now. Or your inner anyone who might actually figure out what happened.
His expression shifted to something that made me think of a cat playing with its prey before the final pounce. “That whatever has Jaxson looking like a kicked puppy needs to be fixed. He has enough on his plate without…” He waved his hand vaguely, encompassing what I assumed was the whole disaster thatwas my existence. “…whatever happened between you two last night.”
The way he emphasized ‘happened’ made me want to crawl under my bed and never come out. Guilt twisted in my stomach like a knife.Fantastic. I’ve graduated from disaster gay to family burden. Achievement unlocked: Making Life Harder for Everyone.
“Trust me, Wei, the last thing I want is to trouble Jaxson.”I just want to forget how his hands felt on my— I just want to forget that I’m hopelessly in love with my stepbrother. I just want to be normal.“I know he’s dealing with a lot and… fuck, I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know how to handle… things.”
“‘Things,’” Wei repeated, his lips twitching as he watched me squirm like a bug under a microscope. “You mean your raging hormones and terrible life choices?”
“I know, okay?”I know exactly how terrible my life choices are. In HD. With surround sound. In IMAX 3D with those special glasses and the seats that vibrate during action scenes.
He stood up, patting my head with exaggerated gentleness like I was a particularly slow puppy who’d finally learned to sit. “Good. Fix it before the party. Because if I have to watch you two dance around each other like awkward penguins all night, I’m spiking the punch.” His grin turned positively demonic. “And who knows what might happen then?”
After he left, I collapsed onto my bed, glaring at the ceiling like it was responsible for my problems. Maybe it was. Maybe there was a leak that had dripped some kind of insanity-inducing mold onto me while I slept. That would explain a lot more than “I’m hopelessly in love with my stepbrother who gave me a hand job last night.”
Sometimes I wondered if Wei’s real hobby was collecting blackmail material on all of us. He probably had a secret folderlabeled “Sinclair-Ji Family Disasters” with subfolders for each of us. Mine was probably the largest.
Talk to Jaxson. Right. Simple. Just walk up to the guy who gave you your first orgasm that wasn’t self-induced and… what? Ask about the weather? “Hey, nice day we’re having. By the way, thanks for the hand job last night. Really cleared up the tension. Weather forecast says partly cloudy with a chance of awkward boners.”
This party is going to be a disaster of epic proportions.
Just another day in the Sinclair-Ji household. God help us all.
Eleven
LAN
Finding a moment to talk to Jaxson was like trying to catch smoke with chopsticks. Between him playing master chef with Wei and Colt, and the house slowly filling up with what felt like half the city’s population, I was running out of both time and excuses.
By five, the apartment had transformed into some kind of frat house meets food festival meets United Nations summit. The air was thick with competing scents—sizzling burgers, Xander’s signature spiced wings, and enough testosterone to qualify as an environmental hazard. Music thumped from Nico’s ridiculously expensive speakers, and every flat surface had been colonized by either food, drinks, or people with questionable sitting postures.
Xander and Nico rolled in with their entourage—Tyler, Justin, Ben, Chris, and Josh—looking suspiciously pleased with themselves, like they’d just pulled off a heist involving nothing but charm and good looks. Then came Wei’s friends, Luke and Kyle, followed by Colt’s bestie Scott who somehow managed to look even more intimidating than Colt himself, which I hadn’t thought physically possible.
And because the universe loves its little jokes, Bree showed up too, armed with party food like we weren’t already drowning in enough calories to feed a small country through winter.
“Lan!” She launched herself at me with her usual dramatic flair. “Miss me? Of course you did. I’m irreplaceable.”
“You didn’t have to bring food.” I eyed her reusable bag, which was suspiciously heavy for someone who once burned water. “We just went shopping this morning. There’s enough food here to survive the apocalypse, plus dessert.”
“And miss a chance to play the perfect guest?” She winked, a gleam in her eye that spelled trouble with a capital everything. “Besides, I needed an excuse to check on my favorite soap opera. TheSinclair-Ji Show, now with extra sexual tension!”
I clamped my hand over her mouth, glancing around frantically to make sure no one had heard. “Could you possibly broadcast that a little louder? I think there might be some people in Canada who didn’t quite catch it.”