Claimed By My Stepbrother novel Chapter 87

Chapter 87

“Gross,‘ I mumbled as I turned on my heel and retreated back to my room, my mind reeling.

Back in the safety of my room, I leaned against the door, trying to steady my breathing. The only other option was Ethan. The thought made my stomach churn, but desperation overruled pride.

I cracked open my door and peeked. The coast was clear. Clutching my towel tightly, I tiptoed down the corridor to Ethan’s room. I hesitated for a moment before knocking softly.

Silence.

I knocked on his door again, then twice harder when I didn’t get an answer. Finally, I just turned the knob and peeked in.

Ethan was inside, half–leaning against his

landed on me–his jaw sort of… slackened.

*esK,

scrolling through something on his phone. He looked up slowly, and the second his eyes

His gaze dropped. Not to my face, obviously. No, it dropped to where the towel ended mid–thigh and stayed there just long enough to be noticeable.

I crossed my arms over my chest and raised a brow. “Can I borrow a shirt?”

His phone lowered slowly, like it had just become irrelevant to his entire existence. “Uh. Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

He moved across the room and pulled open a drawer, then rummaged around for something. The silence stretched, thick and awkward, and I could feel his eyes flick up every couple seconds like he couldn’t help it.

He finally handed me a soft, oversized black t–shirt–one I remembered seeing him wear during breakfast one morning, before I knew anything about mates or wolves or the insane bond that apparently now marked me like some kind of magical homing device.

“Thanks,” I muttered, not looking at him

as I took it and turned to leave.

But I could feel it.

The way his gaze trailed after me.

Back in my room, I shut the door behind me and locked it for good measure.

I leaned against it for a second and just stood there, breathing.

That shirt smelled like him. Like… something dark. Musky. Familiar in a way that made my chest tighten. Ugh. I hated that I noticed.

I pulled the towel off and slipped the shirt over my head. It was soft–really soft. And big enough that it hit halfway down my thighs. My fingers instinctively tugged at the hem as I padded across the room and climbed into bed.

It wasn’t even that late, but my body was done.

I curled under the covers, pulling them up over my legs, trying not to focus on how warm and nice the shirt felt against my skin. Trying not to imagine him in it. Or how he probably might have worn it just a few days ago. Or how the damn thing smelled exactly like his neck did when he leaned too close…

I shut my eyes tightly..

Don’t Camila!

But the bond… it was real, wasn’t it? That stupid bond. It was probably messing with my head and making me feel things I shouldn’t. It

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Chapter 87

was like… craving something I’d never tasted before but still missing it.

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