Falling for my Enemy's Brother-Chapter 20: Fire on Fire

Craig’s POV

I could still feel her palm on my shoulder even though it was gone. Everything inside me screamed, don’t make this worse.

"You okay?" I asked, voice lower than it should’ve been.

She blinked and nodded slowly. "Yeah. Just..."

Then she did that hand gesture. That universal, impatient flick of the fingers people give when someone’s in their way. A quick, silent move out of my way that didn’t need words. She didn’t even look at me properly, just threw the signal like I was some nobody standing in front of the bathroom line.

So I stepped aside. Or, at least, I tried to.

Because somehow, as she moved and I moved, we both picked the exact same direction again and bumped into each other.

Harder this time.

She stumbled again. "Ugh," she muttered under her breath, clearly annoyed, brushing her hair back as she started to step around me one more time.

That’s when I’d had enough.

Without thinking, I reached out. My hand landed gently on her bare left shoulder.

"Hey," I said, but the words didn’t come out right away. I was stuck on the feel of her skin, warm and soft under my palm. I didn’t mean to grab her. I just meant to guide her aside, get her out of my way. But the contact lingered, and so did I.

She looked at my hand on her shoulder, then slowly met my eyes. Her expression wasn’t just surprise; it was something deeper. Like part of her didn’t want me to move my hand at all.

But I did.

I slid it away, gently pushing her to the side so she could pass. "There you go," I said quietly, like I was giving up without a fight.

She didn’t say a word.

Just walked past me, her dress brushing against my sides as she moved, her perfume trailing behind her. I turned to watch her go, unsure why my chest felt tight, why my hand still tingled from touching her shoulder.

And then she disappeared into the restroom and closed the door behind her.

For half a second, I stood there, staring at that closed door like an idiot.

I meant to walk away.

But I didn’t.

Because something in me, something I couldn’t explain, was pulling me right after her.

I should’ve just walked away. Found Adriana. Grabbed another drink. Laughed it off. But I couldn’t. My head was still buzzing from whatever I drank earlier, some mix Brandon handed me, and Merlina had been messing with my head since the minute she showed up in that stupid red dress.

I followed her.

Didn’t even think about it. Just pushed the door open.

She was at the mirror, fixing her shoe.

She spun around like she’d seen a ghost. "What the hell are you doing here?"

My voice was lower than I meant it to be. "I just need to ask you something."

"In the women’s bathroom?"

I didn’t answer. I was staring at her lips, why the hell was I staring at her lips?

She huffed. "We don’t need to talk."

"Merlina—"

"No...don’t. Not tonight. I’m buzzed, tired and I don’t have the patience."

She finally finished fixing her strap and stood up straight. Her eyes found mine. I was quiet. Not because I didn’t know what to say, but because everything I wanted to say felt way too much.

"What?" she snapped. "What do you want?"

"Are you dating Louis?" The words slipped out, too sharp, too loaded. I hadn’t meant for them to sound like that. Jealous. Accusatory—but they did. And I didn’t bother reeling them back in.

She blinked, holding my gaze. "Why would that matter to you?"

She waited, for a second, maybe two. When I stayed silent, she moved to walk past me.

I reached out, catching her wrist, gentle but firm. "Just answer the question." My hand still wrapped around hers.

"Let go of me." Her eyes locked onto mine, sharp and unyielding, furious, no doubt, but somehow, that fire only made her look even more irresistible. Fiercer. Stunning.

She tried to pull her hands free, but I held on, firmer this time, intentional. Her eyes dropped to where our hands met, then she let out a quiet sigh, like she couldn’t believe any of this was happening.

"Are you drunk?" she whispered, barely audible. "Just let me go, Craig Lesnar."

"It’s Craig," I said gently. Maybe it was stupid, but tonight, I just wanted her to see me like she once did, before any of this. Not the last name, not the baggage. Just me.

"Fine. Craig, can you please let me go?" It wasn’t just a plea. It was a whisper that cracked open something buried deep in my chest. One look in her eyes, and everything else, the noise, the party, faded to nothing.

Frustrated, maybe scared, she pushed at my chest, hands small but determined, fire in her touch. I caught her wrist on instinct, not rough, just enough to keep her here, keep her with me. Her breath was warm, fast. Mine matched it.

She fought to pull away, but I wasn’t letting her go. Acting on pure impulse, I stepped in, pushing her back against the wall, our bodies so close that every breath felt like an invitation.

Not to scare her. Not to win.

Just to stop the world from spinning.

My palm slid to her waist, fingers barely grazing the soft fabric of her dress. Her body stilled, tense against mine. My leg brushed hers, an accident, but charged. Like a spark, or a dare.

The gap between us grew smaller, thick with a tension neither of us had the words for.

Too close.

Closer than I could handle.

She froze. So did I.

Every part of me wanted to pull back, to let go and pretend this wasn’t happening. That I hadn’t just cornered her like this, pushed her into a space that felt like something between too much and not enough. My chest tightened, every instinct telling me to pull away. But I didn’t. Not yet.

I could feel the heat of her skin under my palm. I could hear the racing of her pulse as if it were mine. She wasn’t fighting me now, but she wasn’t exactly letting me win either.

My mind was a mess. A part of me wanted to lean in closer, to erase the distance, to find out what would happen if I just let myself feel this—this thing between us that was too messy, too complicated for words. Another part of me wanted to let her go, to apologize, to get the hell out of this situation.

But something in her eyes held me captive. Not fear. Not anger. Just this wide, vulnerable ache, like maybe she wanted me to kiss her as badly as I wanted to forget how wrong this was.

And then, slow, unsteady—I leaned in, just enough to feel the hitch of her breath against my cheek. "I’m not trying to hurt you," I murmured, voice trembling. "It’s just a yes or no."

Her lips parted. Her eyes didn’t leave mine. She shifted, just the slightest movement, and I felt her body lean into mine, a small unconscious surrender, like she wasn’t sure whether to resist or give in.

And in that breathless space between right and wrong, I realized I’d already fallen.

"Yes, Louis is my boyfriend." The words came out steady. Like she’d rehearsed them just in case I ever pushed her this far.

Before the shock of her words even settled in, she shoved me, sharp, decisive, and slipped past me, breaking free of the space I’d trapped her in like it was nothing.

She didn’t even look back.

And I just stood there, staring at the spot where she’d been, where her breath had mingled with mine, where her heart had pounded close enough for me to feel.

That’s when it hit me.

I’d fucked up.

Not just tonight. Not just with this moment. Somewhere along the line, I’d given too much away. Let her see too much. Feel too much.

And now my ego was bleeding all over the floor.

So I did what I always did when I was backed into a corner—I hid behind the only thing sharper than the ache in my chest. My attitude.

"Are you dating him because of me?" I called after her, voice laced with something between a laugh and a wound. "Because he’s got it out for me and you figured he’s the perfect guy to piss me off with."

Stupid. Petty. Pathetic.

But at least it gave me an easy out. At least it hid the truth, that the thought of her being with him felt like someone had ripped something from me I didn’t even realize I wanted to keep.

I leaned back against the wall, jaw clenched, heartbeat loud.

Maybe she’d believe it. Maybe she’d walk away thinking this was just about rivalry. Strategy.

But deep down, I knew the real reason I couldn’t let her go tonight.

"What—"