Claimed By My Stepbrother novel Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Camila POV

As I made my way to the bus stop, my thoughts swirled so intensely that I barely registered the sleek car slowing down beside me.

“Camila!”

I turned to see Liam leaning out of the driver’s side window, his easy smile making it impossible not to smile back.

,

Who would have thought.

“Liam?” I asked, stopping in my tracks. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was heading to school,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the

world- which, okay, technically it was. His tone was so casual, like he hadn’t just

screeched to a halt next to me like some low–budget action movie hero.“But now I’m on

my way to school with you. Get in.”

I hesitated, glancing down the street toward the bus stop. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I’ll just

take the bus.”

“Come on,” he urged, opening the passenger door. “It’s not like I’m going out of my way or anything. Besides, do you really want to sit on that cramped bus with a bunch of

freshmen?”

He had a point, annoyingly enough. Letting out a resigned sigh, I slid into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut behind me. The interior enveloped me in a subtle mix of pine and leather- a surprisingly refined scent. It was the kind of smell that made you think of expensive cologne and cozy winter cabins, and for a brief, fleeting second, I

hated how much I liked it.

“Thanks,” I said as he started driving.

“No problem,” he replied, his hands casually gripping the wheel. “So, what’s up with you? You looked a little… preoccupied back there.”

“Preoccupied?” I echoed, trying to sound nonchalant. “Nah, just tired.”

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9:08 pm

Chapter 14

He glanced at me, his eyebrows raised. “Tired or avoiding someone?”

I rolled my eyes. “Not everything is a conspiracy, Liam.”

“If you say so,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

We fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the engine humming softly in the background. That was until Liam reached over and turned on the radio.

What I expected: pop, maybe some hip–hop, or one of those generic Top 40 stations everyone listens to.

What I got: a full–on rock anthem, complete with heavy guitar riffs and screaming vocals.

I stared at him, wide–eyed. “You listen to this?”

“What? You don’t like it?” he asked, glancing at me with mock offense.

“I just didn’t peg you as the type,‘ I admitted.

He smirked. “What type did you peg me as? Let me guess- top 40? Maybe some easy- listening jazz?”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with jazz,” I shot back.

“True, he breathed out, nodding solemnly. “But there’s also nothing wrong with a little rock to wake you up in the morning.”

I couldn’t argue with that, though I did make a mental note to reevaluate everything I thought I knew about Liam.

have a favorite band, or are you one of those people who only listens to trending?” he asked.

“Excuse me,” I said, with an eye roll. “I’ll have you know I have excellent taste in

music.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

I thought for a moment, then named a band I knew was universally loved but not too

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Chapter 14

mainstream. “The Strokes.”

“Solid choice,” he said, nodding in approval. “But can you name more than three

songs?”

I opened my mouth to reply but quickly shut it. Damn it. He caught me.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, laughing.

“Okay, Mr. Music Critic,” I said, trying to change the subject. “What’s your favorite

band?”

“Depends on the day,” he said, shrugging. “Right now, probably Arctic Monkeys.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t they kind of mainstream?”

He grinned. “Touché.”

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