Falling for my Enemy's Brother-Chapter 54: Before You Go

He didn’t answer her question directly, but his eyes spoke volumes.

There was a gleam there. Cocky and unrepentant, like he fully owned the mess he’d made. Not sorry for the wine spilled, not sorry for trapping her here, away from the others.

Then, softer, his voice lowered to something almost fragile. "I’m sorry, you’ve been avoiding me."

The tenderness caught her off guard, soft and almost vulnerable. Like for once, he wasn’t teasing or hiding behind clever words. Just him, stripped of all defenses.

She tried to mask her fluttering heart with sarcasm. "And you thought, yeah, the perfect thing to do was ruin her skirt," she said, brushing at the stain one last time. freēnovelkiss.com

His eyes traced her body with deliberate care, slow and knowing. The way the fabric hugged her thighs made heat spark behind his gaze before he looked back up, darker now, laced with a tension that felt almost palpable. The intensity of his gaze, made her wish she hadn’t asked that question.

"Trust me," he said, voice low and certain, "the skirt’s still breathing."

The familiar words hung between them, soft, yet heavy. Like a thread pulling them back, to something pure and full of promise, to the first day they met.

That line, her line, once tossed lightly, carelessly, but now suddenly charged, alive with meaning neither needed to voice.

The silence stretched, thick with memory and tension, eyes locked, hearts louder than the room.

And then she looked away, because looking at him too long felt dangerous. Like falling, one glance at a time.

She fought to hold back the smile that tugged at her lips, but it slipped through.

And he saw it, for the first time in what felt like forever, he’d made her smile again. The sight sent a slow, burning pulse through his chest, warm and aching in all the places he’d tried to numb.

Before she could move away, his hand slid around her arm, gently but possessively, pulling her back into the fire that simmered between them.

"Craig..." she whispered, breath trembling. The warmth of his touch weakening her knees. Her eyes held a quiet plea, as if she wasn’t ready for this, not here, not now, not with the slow-burning desire stirring hot beneath her skin.

"What did you talk about with Conor?" he asked, grasping for anything that could ground him, anything away from the pull he felt toward her. Like the words were his last defense against doing something reckless.

Merlina’s gaze sharpened, cool beneath the pounding of her heart. She stared at his hand over hers until he reluctantly let go, as if her stare reminded him who they were.

"Why are you so bothered about that?" Her tone was light, almost indifferent, like it barely mattered. Yet behind the nonchalance, a quiet tension lingered, daring him to press further.

"Because he’s my brother, Merlina," Craig said, his voice tightening, an unspoken plea wrapped in those words.

"Then ask him," she shot back, voice quieter now, but steady.

Craig’s jaw clenched. "He’s been distant for days... unreachable ever since."

She swallowed, hesitant, as if the weight of the conversation was pulling at her too. "He said he couldn’t have done it. That he was drugged... unconscious."

Craig’s breath hitched, the silence between them heavy with unsaid questions. "And?" His voice was barely more than a whisper.

Merlina met his eyes, "And?" she echoed sharply, frustration threading through the question.

"What happened Merlina?" He insisted, because he had seen her crying, even though admitting he was watching her was the last thing he wanted to do.

She hesitated, the question stirring a sudden, uneasy thought deep inside her.

Did Conor really tell Craig nothing? Were they really that distant? Or was Conor Lesnar truly protecting her mother, how could that person have killed her ? Or was he hiding more than he let on?

The doubt twisted inside her, sharper and heavier, leaving her more lost than ever.

If Conor Lesnar really hadn’t killed her mother, then what did that mean? Where did that leave her and Craig? The questions swirled in Merlina’s mind, refusing to settle.

"I don’t wanna think about any of this right now, you, your brother, the case, the rumors," she confessed, her voice raw with exhaustion and yearning. "I just want one week... one week of a normal college life. That’s all I’m asking."

Craig’s eyes narrowed, disbelief flickering. "Are you drunk?"

"What? No. Why would you even ask that?"

"I don’t know..." He thoroughly looked at her, her injured arm, "The last time I saw you, you were hurt at the construction site because you desperately wanted to find Conor," Craig’s voice cracked with the memory, the worry that still clenched his chest. "And now you’re acting like this conversation is a waste of your time?"

Merlina looked away, biting her lip. Her voice trembled as she admitted, "Maybe you were right. Maybe I’m starting to see it all clearer now. I want to put this behind me. Is that a problem?"

Craig shook his head slowly, confusion swirling with something softer, something that tasted dangerously like relief.

She nodded, small and tentative. "I thought so."

She turned to leave, the tension between them hanging thick in the air. But his hand caught her wrist again, firm and searching, pulling her back before she could go.

"One more thing, Merlina." His voice was low, earnest, and his fingers lingered on her arm, reluctant to let go.

Her heart raced, caught between anticipation and fear. "What, Craig?" she whispered.

Though part of her might’ve already known, she might’ve felt it in the weight of his touch, the tremble in his voice, the way his eyes searched hers like he was holding back everything he’d wanted to say for far too long.

He was taking too long to say what was burning inside. Her gaze drifted, almost involuntarily, down to his lips—soft, tempting, and then snapped back to his eyes. Her breath seized as their faces edged nearer, his eyes locked onto hers, flickering with a fierce hunger that matched her own.

Neither of them said a word, but the space between them seemed to shrink on its own. Craig’s hand tightened slightly on her arm, like he wanted her closer, just enough for her to feel the heat radiating from his body.

He swallowed hard, heart pounding loud enough to drown out reason. "Please... stop dating Louis."