"Shut up, Ollie," she retorted, not in the mood for his shit. Brushing past him, she shot him a look that hopefully told him to watch his step and headed for her bedroom. Never the perceptive one, Oliver followed her, tugging on her damp hair.
"Did you take a swim on your walk? You look a mess," he announced. Swatting his hands away, she glared at him. He was a full foot taller than her at 6'3, his own dark hair kept cut short, his eyes more gray than blue.
"Of course not. I'm just more sweaty than usual, I got in a bit of a jog." Oliver made himself at home on her bed, patting the bedspread beside him in invitation when Barkey poked his head in the door. Knowing arguing with him to get out of her room was useless, Lola instead stomped over to her bunny's cage to check his food and water.
"Morning, Mr. Hoppykins, need anything in there?" Her bunny simply moved his ears in response, not one for ample human interaction. He was her cuddlebum, not as friendly a companion as her dog, but he had a piece of her heart nonetheless.
"He can't answer you, Lo. I don't know why you even keep that thing around, he basically just lives in your room. Not much of a life."
Lola frowned, his words weren't something she hadn't thought of herself in the past, but still, she figured he was living a better life than out in the woods where he could easily become prey for a larger animal, or end up under the wheels of some speed demon out in the street.
"Just stop, honestly, Oliver. Have you ever considered that not everyone needs to hear your opinion all the time?" she snapped.
"Whoa," Ollie held up his hands in mock surrender. Taking a closer look at his sister, he saw the worry lines marring her forehead and the tense way she held her posture. It wasn't like her to snap so easily. Now that he was actually paying attention, her stress was plain to see. Rising to his feet, he crossed to her side and let his hands fall down on her shoulders.
"What's up?" he asked, concern evident in his tone.
"It's nothing, I just..." she rolled her shoulders to shake him off and paced the room. As much as they tended to get on each other's nerves, Oliver was a great big brother. She didn't want to cause him unnecessary worry. Besides, how would she sound if she suddenly started spouting off that there was a ghost person following her around the park? "Just in a weird mood," she finished lamely, meeting his eyes once more and pleading with him to let it go.
Taking the easy way out, Ollie let the matter drop, but made a mental note to keep an eye on her. She was obviously lying, but would likely confide in their mother if anything was truly amiss.
A door creaked down the hall and a few seconds later, the sound of water running in the bathroom could be heard. Beckett was clearly up and moving around, about to start his morning workout routine, no doubt.
"Alright, well since you weren't all that welcoming this morning, I vote for you to make me a hearty breakfast," he told her, leaving the room and patting his leg for Barkey to follow.
"No way! I cooked last weekend," she reminded him.
"Shotgun rules. I called it, so you're out of luck."
"That's literally not even a thing."
Following him out the door, she glanced down at her haphazard appearance. She really needed a shower before she did anything else, but her stomach had other ideas as it rumbled loudly. Damn Oliver and his suggestion of breakfast. And to suggest that she had to make it again, that was just — "Oof!" she whooshed out a breath as she collided head to chest with Beckett who was coming out of the bathroom.
He automatically reached out a hand to steady her, his grip borderline painful. "Sorry," she told him straight away, her cheeks turning pink. His hard body had barely budged from her small frame, his response simply to raise an eyebrow as his dark eyes bored into her, nearly searing her in place.
"Don't worry about it," he replied, his hand lingering a moment longer before slipping away. Lola stared back at him, seemingly transfixed. Why would he never let her in? There was something almost brooding about his character when he was at home, but at school, around his friends and his adoring fandom of girls, he was a completely different person. It was as though he reserved his standoffish behaviour only for her.
"Guys! Let's go, do you want me to wither away and die here?" Oliver shouted from the kitchen. Lola fumbled a few steps back, descending the stairs. Beckett remained in place, his eyes still on her.
"Um, we're going to make breakfast, if you want to join us?"
"Maybe, gotta get my shake in before my workout." His deep voice washed over her, and she again wished he didn't hold himself so apart from her.
"Okay, see you later," she said and finally turned her back on him, heading for the kitchen.
"That you will," Beckett whispered quietly, his tone only audible to his ears. "That you will indeed, dear sister."
Chapter Two
Ripe.
Tender.
Succulent.
Her silky skin beckoned to him; her scent drawing him out of the shadows; deeper under her spell.
A subtle movement caused the thin sheet concealing her body to slip down her right thigh. Sucking in a breath, Beckett crept closer, the desire to claim Lola as his clouding his better judgement. He was taking a risk sneaking into her room at night while everyone slept, but since he’d had his hands on her earlier in the day, he’d been left craving more.
His heart pounded furiously in his chest as he reached for her, a sharp sting of lust powering through him
