Discarded Girlfriend, Claimed By His Cousin

My heart hammered, a frantic drumbeat against my ribs. Graham' s arm, warm and solid, was still pressed against mine. He ha

He' s Brendan' s cousin. The forbidden nature of it all, the sheer audacity, se

ok a bend too fast. Kasey, predictably, shrieked. It was a high-pitched, affected sound, a practi

howing off a little, Kasey-bear. No one drives like me.

is cheek. "My hero," she purred, her vo

in the car. Behave yourself." His words were a mere formality, a flimsy cove

so sorry! I sometimes forget myself. Brendan and I have been friends since forever, you know. Like siblings, almost. We're just so c

his at home too, Kasey? Or only when you have an audience?" The words were out

al tears. She immediately turned back to Brendan, burying her face in his shoulder. "Brendan! She's

ve. You need to be more understanding. Can't you just let things go for once? Be a mature adult." His words, sharp and

fight drained out of me, leaving behind only a hollow ache. It was always like this.

re enduring, no more understanding, no more being the "mature

et my fingers rest there, a silent, defiant gesture. He didn' t flinch, d

leg, my fingers brushing the hard muscle of his inner thigh. The

ad, his fingers curled around my thigh, his thumb brushing the sens

nce. They moved with a gentle pressure, a silent inquiry. My breath hitc

w was tight, a muscle twitching almost imperceptibly. He remained perfectly still, a picture of r

ant curve of his nose. He was undeniably handsome, in a severe, understated way.

wn wealth. Graham, a partner at a top law firm, was the epitome of their reserved, brilliant lineage. Brendan used to joke that Graham was "practically a monk,"

ably dressed, even for a casual study session. He had an aura of quiet authority, a seriousness that set him apart fr

al ventures, and I, as Brendan's girlfriend and an event planner for the Britt Foundation, occasionally found myself in meetings with him. E

gent eyes, assessing, analyzing. I' d always told myself it was my imagination, that he saw me only as Brendan'

uring a strategy meeting. A subtle tightening of his lips when Brendan made a crude joke. I always dismissed it.

oulder to point out a clause, and I' d felt the warmth of his body, the faint scent of expensive cologne and ink. My skin had prickled. My heart had pounded. And in that moment, when his arm had accidenta

ngs. I was Brendan's girlfriend. Graham wa