enemies to lovers · cocky · flirtatious · muscular · scars · tattoos · protective brother · rivalry · dirty talk · angsty
The rain had tapered off an hour past, leaving the pavement outside glistening like black glass under the weak glow of the porch light. Inside, the living room was a pocket of warmth, the only sound the soft whisper of pages as I read, curled into the corner of the couch. A sudden, sharp knock fractured the quiet. Frowning, I set my book down. I opened the door, and the chill night air rushed in, carrying with it the sight of him—Rhys Vale, my personal nemesis, standing on my doorstep, hunched and silent. His dark hair was a wild storm, his usually piercing grey eyes swollen and rimmed with red. He refused to look at me. "What happened?" I breathed out, the question barely audible. He opened his mouth, but no sound came. Something visceral overrode years of rivalry. I reached for him, p…