Clarissa's POV

“You must think that something is wrong with me for liking someone I can never be with,” I whisper nervously.

She gently takes my hand in hers, “no one knows more than me what it means to like someone you’re not supposed to want. I have been in love with Atticus since the first day I met him. I was never supposed to have feelings for him, not when he was dating my best friend. It’s crazy to know I was in pain because of Anya, and now the same is

happening to you. Because of her.”

“It’s not just her,” l admit. “I know Anya is a pain in the ass, but I would feel the same way if it was any other girl. I hate seeing him with any woman that’s not me. I know it’s selfish and wrong, but I don’t know how to control my feelings.”

She gently rubs my back, “I know what you’re going through, Clarissa. I’m here to support you through it all. It will not be easy, especially since he’s your stepbrother.”

I nod, “I know that. I know getting a tattoo with his name was stupid, also. Everyone would freak out if they knew what I truly felt for him."

“As I promised you, no one will ever hear it from my mouth.” She promises me.

I smile and hug her, “I wish we were this close since the first day I was adopted into the Fawns family. I wouldn’t have been so lonely.”

“I wish the same.” She admits. “But at least we have each other now.”

“Why are you always trying to steal my wife from me?” Atticus asks as he spots us.

Autumn gapes at him, “you promised me that you would wait instead of coming to see me without a single warning."

He chuckles and pulls her into his arms, “I couldn’t wait. I wanted to see you in this dress. I can’t wait to get it-“

I clear my throat, “I love that you’re together for good now, but I don’t need to hear the rest of that sentence.”

Autumn blushes and playfully hits his shoulder, “come on, let’s get Clarissa to the ballroom so that she can find herself a date for tonight.”

“A date?” Atticus asks. “She doesn’t need a date. I’ve seen all the men present tonight; none of them are worthy of my sister.”

Autumn rolls her eyes, “we are not looking for a husband for her, Atticus. Just someone to dance with for the night.”

He shrugs, “I’ll love to see what Damon has to say about this.”

My heart skips a beat at the mention of Damon.

“Damon?” Autumn asks. “Why do you think Damon will have to say anything about her dancing with a man tonight?”

Atticus looked at her like she was crazy, “have you not been around him? Damon gets crazy protective over Clarissa; sometimes, even I need to tell him to lighten up. Ever since that witch almost killed her, he has become even worse. He’s always making sure that she’s out of danger.”

My heart skips yet another beat. It was true. Damon has become even more overprotective ever since that awful day.

I’d never seen him so scared, but even I was

terrified of never seeing him again. I thought she was going to kill me while my family watched.

I’m not sure what happened that night. Everyone was bound by spell-filled chains, but somehow, we all broke free from them. Autumn wasn’t there to help us, and I’m sure none of the witches there were responsible for freeing us; nothing made sense.

I’m happy that we were released, but it still bothers me that I didn’t know what truly happened on that night.

I also couldn’t explain why my arm had been sore lately since that night.

“Are you ready?” Autumn asks me as we near the entrance of the ballroom.

I wasn’t ready, but as long as she remained by my side, I should be okay.

“How many people are here already?” I ask Atticus.

“Hundreds.” He informs me. “Just stick by our side, and tonight will pass quickly.”

Autumn sighs, “are you truly going to stop her from dancing with someone tonight?”

He smiles, “I would rather step in and stop your plans than watch Damon beat some poor guy up today and spoil our party.”

Autumn looks at me and smiles. She knows what hearing him say those words would mean to me. I think she’s intentionally trying to provoke Atticus so that he would say exactly what I wanted to hear.

She hooks her arm through mine, and Atticus sighs behind us. “I miss the times you couldn’t stand being away from me.”

“What are you speaking about?” Autumn demands. “I’m right in front of you.”

“As long as we aren’t touching, it isn’t closeenough.” He complains.

She laughs and pulls me along with her. I search the room for Damon; it’s packed, just like Atticus said earlier.

Where is he?

“His eyes are already on you,” Autumn whispers, so only l can hear.

I try not to show my excitement at her words.

“He’s to your right, don’t look at him. Pretend you’re interested in someone else.” She orders me.

My eyes snap to hers, “I don’t know if I could do that.”

“If you want a reaction out of him, you will have to push out of your comfort zone. So far, you’re too nice to him. Make him uncomfortable; make him terrified of losing you to someone else.” She tries explaining.

Would this work?

I didn’t want to entertain anyone else but Damon. But maybe Autumn did have a point.

I’ve tried it my way for years, and nothing has changed between Damon and me. He’s never touched me inappropriately.

Not one kiss.

Not one sexual touch.

Just hugs.

That was all. He’s always kept a distance between us which was expected since we were supposed to be step-siblings and he was dating Anya.

I’m the only one between the two of us with dirty thoughts. I can’t stop picturing him kissing my neck, his hands on my breasts, and between my legs. I inwardly groan.

Why do I have to be the only one between the two of us with these thoughts?

“Who are the two of you whispering about?”

Atticus asks. “Are you keeping secrets from me, Autumn?” Her face turns red, and she quickly grabs him for a dance.

“I’ll return to you after just one dance with Atticus.” She apologizes.

I nod. I knew she pulled him away to distract him from our conversation.

“Who did you dress like this for?” Damon asks.

I bite my lip to keep myself from telling the truth. How long has he been standing behind me?

It couldn’t be long. Whenever he was near, I felt this warmness inside of me, just like l do now.

“Does it matter?” I ask as I turn around to face him.

My breath gets stuck in my throat as I see him in my favorite white shirt. It’s one that I got him as a gift a year ago. The first two buttons are undone, and I can’t stop staring at the exposed skin.

“It matters to me.” He confesses as he takes a step toward me.

I can’t breathe. Not when he’s standing this close to me.

“I’ll rather not say,” I tell him.

He quirks a brow, “is it someone I’m not fond of?”

I try not to laugh at his question.

“I’m not sure,” I whisper.

“Give me a description of him.” Damon insists.

“Let’ see,” I say as I place a finger on my lip and pretend to be deep in thought. “He has on a white shirt tonight. It looks so good on him. He has piercing blue eyes and surprisingly soft hair.”

He growls at my last sentence, “you’ve touched his hair?”