Falling For My Alpha Stepsister (GL)

After getting ready for work, I went downstairs to have my breakfast before heading to work.

And someone happened to be there before me.

The faint, sizzling sound of butter popping on a hot pan echoed through the wide archway, instantly stopping my feet right on the polished floor.

Usually, the house had a maid hired by Mrs. Morningstar. She came every morning to clean the house and prepare breakfast before leaving.

Gloria was always a quiet, rhythmic presence in the mornings, her uniform neat and her movements perfectly silent as she set out the porcelain plates.

But the heavy, uneven footsteps clinking against the marble floor right now definitely did not belong to a middle-aged housekeeper.

Today, she wasn’t the one making breakfast.

It was Angel.

She was standing right in front of the stainless-steel burner, her broad shoulders shifting under a simple black t-shirt that showed off the dark, twisting lines of the tattoos on her arms. Her wine-colored hair was pulled back into a messy bun, a few stray strands hanging down near her jaw as she focused entirely on flipping a row of eggs.

And Terror happened to be on the dining table, having her medication.

”Okay, swallow it down, buddy.... You need to get well soon. Don’t try leaving without me, okay?”

Angel’s husky voice dropped into a low, desperate murmur that I had never heard before, her fingers gently rubbing the cat’s throat to help swallow. Her shoulders were tense, her entire posture locked in a rare moment of absolute gentleness that made my chest tighten up behind my glasses.

I stood by the kitchen hallway, watching Angel and her pet.

I didn’t move a single muscle, holding my breath as I leaned slightly against the wall frame, my eyes tracking the soft rise and fall of her shoulders.

Last night, I saw something I had never seen in her before.

Fear.

She had the fear of losing Terror.

That orange ball of fur was apparently the only thing in this massive, empty house that actually connected to her heart, the only creature she truly cared about protecting.

When we got to the vet and no one was attending to us, keeping us on the waiting list...

Angel shouted at the staff, demanding for the vet.

They had no choice but to attend to us.

The head doctor had rushed out from the back rooms within ten seconds, his face completely pale as he took the trembling cat straight out of Angel’s arms without asking for a single piece of paperwork.

Luckily, the vet treated Terror on time before the chocolate could take effect.

They had pumped her stomach and kept her on a clear fluid drip for two long hours while we sat side by side in absolute silence.

And some some medication was prescribed.

The cat’s ears pricked up sharply, her green pupils locking right onto my figure hiding in the shadow of the hallway before she let out a short, scratchy cry.

Angel turned to me.

The soft, worried lines on her face vanished in a fraction of a second, her lips twisting up into that familiar, arrogant grin that always made my temper flare.

”Good morning, Four Eyes,” she greeted, as I pretended not to have been quietly watching her and her cat for ten minutes.

She leaned her hip against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest with a lazy, confident stride that told me she was completely back to her old self.

I had even watched her make breakfast, which was already set on the table.

”Good morning... you,” I said..

I walked into the room with a stiff, professional stride, adjusting the bridge of my glasses with a sharp flick of my finger to hide my lingering awkwardness.

”I see you made breakfast,” I said, picking up a sausage to eat.

”What happened to Gloria? Is she unwell?”

I bit into the savory meat, my eyes tracking the slow, rhythmic movement of Angel’s fingers as she picked up Terror and set her gently on the floor.

”No. I gave her seven days off. You added cooking in your book... cooking breakfast for the other person... so I did that, which means you are to mark that one off. And tonight I am going to buy groceries so we can cook together,” she said.

She tapped her finger against the kitchen island, her red eyes tracking the movement of my jaw as I chewed, her tone dripping with pure confidence.

Oh, that’s right.

The game was still on.

I couldn’t believe she was really this determined.

It was completely insane how far she was willing to go just to win a bet and prove that she could get me into her space.

And I’m pretty sure if Terror’s condition had been fatal, she would still continue the game.

I gave a faint smile before sitting down to serve myself, but to my surprise, she did the serving.

”Oh... okay,” I muttered.

I dropped my hands back into my lap, my cheeks flushing a light pink as I stared down at the food she had just placed in front of me.

”So, how is Terror doing now?”

I picked up my fork, keeping my eyes fixed entirely on the eggs to avoid meeting that heavy, suffocating gaze across the table.

I asked while eating.

”She looks great this morning.... Thank you for being there last night.”

The husky words came out low and steady, lacking any of the usual teasing or arrogance that she normally laced into every single sentence.

Did Angel Morningstar just thank me?

Like... with a genuine expression?

I raised my eyes just a fraction, catching the soft, honest line of her mouth before she turned away to pour herself a fresh cup of black coffee.

Suddenly, I felt something hot on my cheeks.

A sudden, fierce wave of heat rushed straight up my neck, making my skin tingle with a strange, uncomfortable nervousness that I couldn’t explain.

I shoved another piece of bacon into my mouth, focusing entirely on the salty flavor to keep myself from looking back up at her beautiful, wine-colored hair.

Angel and Terror went upstairs, then came back down later.

By that time, I was done with breakfast and about to head out.

I saw Angel standing by the doorway.

A black fabric carrier was wrapped tightly around her chest, the orange cat’s head peeking out from the pouch like a bizarre little passenger.

”What is it? I have to go to work, so you can continue later,” I said,

I shifted my bag to my other shoulder, attempting to slide through the small gap between her left arm and the wall, but she didn’t budge an inch.

Angel held my hand.

Before I could say a word...

”We are going for a walk. Holding hands, right? You happen to take the public bus, which is odd. But it’s also good. I get to walk you to the bus station,” Angel said with a grin.

There were like 20 things to do in that book, and within twenty-four hours, Angel Morningstar had already done four of them.

Taking me out to dinner. Giving me flowers. Making breakfast. And now walking side by side while holding hands.

As we walked to the bus station, my eyes looked down at our hands, and when I raised them, they stopped on the glaring cat.

Terror was riding high in the chest carrier, her pupils locked tightly onto my face with a low, silent hiss that told me she wasn’t happy about this arrangement either.

Terror didn’t seem to like the idea that we were this close.

Even I wasn’t liking it.

My hand felt incredibly small inside Angel’s grip, the thick heat of her skin making my palm sweat as we moved down the residential street.

This was supposed to happen maybe at night, not during the day when people were busy staring at us as they passed by.

”So, do you mind telling why you don’t drive one of the cars in the garage?” Angel asked.

Her husky voice broke through the quiet walk, her head tilting down toward me as she matched her long strides to my shorter ones.

I didn’t answer.

I kept my eyes fixed firmly on the concrete pavement ahead, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from giving her any more ammunition.

”Don’t tell me that at your age, 21.... you can’t drive,” she teased.

A sharp, mocking chuckle escaped her lips, her thumb lightly brushing against the back of my hand in a slow, deliberate gesture that made my skin prickle.

”That is not true. I can drive, but I don’t want to be some freeloader, giving you more reasons to insult me...” I said, trying to cover the fact that she happened to be right.

”I think you should drive one. The cars aren’t parked there for a showcase. You are already living in the house for free, so why don’t you drive one too?”

And she was doing it again.

The familiar anger boiled back up in my chest, a tight knot forming in my throat as she reminded me... I was still living under my mom...

”I am not going to drive just to give you the satisfaction of insulting me,” I said.

I pulled my shoulders back, staring straight ahead at the blue plastic shelter of the bus station that was finally coming into view at the end of the block.

I noticed Angel had gone silent.

The expected snarky comeback didn’t follow my words, the sudden lack of sound from her side making the air between us feel strangely heavy.

I waited for a full ten seconds, my ears straining for the sound of her lazy laugh, but nothing came out of her mouth.

When I looked up at her, her eyes were turned to the side.

Her sharp jawline was angled completely away from me, her wine-colored bangs shifting in the wind as she focused on something across the street.

The girl I was walking with was busy staring at the butt of a lady who had just jogged past us.

The woman in the bright pink spandex shorts was moving at a fast clip down the pedestrian path, completely unbothered by the heavy gaze locked onto her figure.

She was appealingly admiring it.

Angel’s crimson eyes were narrowed in absolute focus, her lips parting slightly into a slow, appreciative grin that showed exactly where her mind had just drifted.

I just don’t know why I felt annoyed by the act, but I pulled my hand away from hers and walked as fast as I could.

Thank goodness we were close to the bus station.

I climbed onto the bus, leaving her behind...

I jammed my transit card against the scanner without looking back a single time, hurrying toward an empty window seat as the heavy engine roared back to life and pulled away from the sidewalk.