The temptation of my brother-in-law-Chapter 67 - sixty seven

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Alicia’s POV

I sat down at my desk, still feeling sore between my legs. The reminder of what I just had with Malachi was everywhere. In the way I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. In the slight ache that pulsed with every movement. In the heat that crept up my neck just thinking about his hands on me.

I tried to focus on work, pulled out my phone to check messages before diving into the day’s tasks.

The screen was still open to the book I’d been reading earlier. The censored Chapter of the book Cassie had recommended. The one that had gotten me so worked up that I’d had to take my panties off just to get through it. The words on the page had painted such vivid images, my body had responded in ways I couldn’t control.

Heat flooded my face as I remembered. Remembered reading those explicit scenes while sitting at this very desk. Remembered how wet I’d gotten. How Malachi noticed my arousal and tempered it.

I quickly sent Cassie an angry emoji, my fingers jabbing at the screen.

Her reply came immediately. "You’re welcome {smirking emoji}"

Traitor. She knew exactly what she was doing when she recommended that book.

I glanced at Malachi. He was deeply rooted in work, focused on his laptop screen with that intense concentration he brought to everything. His brow was slightly furrowed. His jaw set. Completely oblivious to what I’d just been looking at. To the effect he’d had on me that made me seek out that kind of reading material in the first place.

Thank god.

I closed the reading app and got back to actual work. Files needed reviewing. Emails needed responses. Numbers needed checking. The mundane tasks of running a business empire.

But even as I worked, part of my mind kept drifting. To minutes ago. To this morning when he’d smiled at me over breakfast. To the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

We worked in silence for hours. The kind of comfortable silence that came from being around someone who understood you didn’t always need to fill the space with words. It was strange how natural this felt. Working beside him. Existing in the same space without pressure or expectations.

With Travis, silence was always heavy. Uncomfortable. Filled with resentment and things left unsaid.

With Malachi, silence felt like peace.

By the time we finished, it was already evening. The office had emptied out hours ago. Just us left in the building, the city lights twinkling through the windows.

"You were a good girl today," Malachi said, closing his laptop. His voice was warm with approval. "Let me take you to dinner."

Something about the way he said "good girl" made my stomach flip. Made me remember him saying those same words in a very different context.

"I can just eat at home," I said, trying to sound casual.

"I want to take you out. Say yes."

I looked at him. At the way he was watching me with those dark eyes that saw too much. Like my answer mattered more than it should. Like this was about more than just dinner.

Maybe it was.

"Fine. Yes."

He smiled. That rare, genuine smile that transformed his entire face. Made him look younger. Less burdened. It made something flutter in my chest, something warm and dangerous that I didn’t want to examine too closely.

We drove to a restaurant downtown. Nothing too fancy, but nice. Upscale without being pretentious. The kind of place where you could have a private conversation without everyone in the room listening. Soft lighting. Quiet music. White tablecloths.

When we were seated at a corner table, Malachi ordered immediately. Just steak. Rare. Simple and to the point, like everything about him.

I took longer, scanning the menu even though I wasn’t particularly hungry. My mind was too busy replaying the day. The week. Everything that had happened between us.

Finally I settled on pasta. Something safe and familiar.

"Wine?" the waiter asked.

"Just water for me," I said. I needed to keep my head clear. Being around Malachi already made me feel slightly drunk.

"Same," Malachi added.

The waiter left. We sat in comfortable silence again. I looked around the restaurant, taking in the other diners. Couples mostly. People on dates. Holding hands across tables. Laughing at shared jokes. Living normal, uncomplicated lives.

Lives I’d never have.

"What are you thinking about?" Malachi asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Nothing important."

"Liar."

There was affection in his voice. In the way he said it. Like my lies were endearing rather than frustrating.

Before I could respond, I saw someone approaching our table. A woman. Tall, perfectly styled hair that probably cost more than my monthly salary, designer clothes that screamed money and status.

When I saw who it was, my smile fell. My stomach dropped.

Jennifer. My high school classmate.

"Alicia? Oh my god, it is you!" She rushed over with that same fake enthusiasm she’d always had. All bright smiles and calculated warmth. "I haven’t seen you in years!"

"Hi, Jennifer." I forced my smile back into place. The mask I wore for situations like this.

"You look amazing! I mean, seriously, you haven’t aged a day." Her eyes swept over me, assessing. Calculating my worth like she used to in high school. "And is this your husband?"

She looked at Malachi with obvious interest. The kind of interest that made my jaw tighten.

"This is Malachi," I said, deliberately not correcting her assumption. Let her think what she wanted.

"Nice to meet you," Malachi said politely but distantly. He could sense my discomfort. I could tell by the way he’d straightened in his chair. By the protective edge that had entered his voice.

"You too!" Jennifer turned back to me, her smile widening. "Listen, I’m so glad I ran into you. It must be fate or something. We’re having a reunion party tomorrow night. All our old classmates from senior year. Everyone’s coming with their partners. You should definitely come!"

My stomach dropped further. A high school reunion. The absolute last thing I wanted.

High school had been hell. I’d been the scholarship kid. The one who didn’t have designer clothes or a nice car. The one who worked part time jobs while everyone else went to parties. The one who ate lunch alone because I didn’t fit into any of the established social groups.

Jennifer had been part of the popular crowd. The girls who’d looked right through me like I was invisible. Who’d whispered behind my back about my secondhand clothes and my poverty.

"I don’t know if I can make it," I started, searching for an excuse.

"Oh, come on! It’ll be fun. We can catch up. See what everyone’s been up to. Everyone’s doing so well now. Sarah’s a lawyer. Mike runs his own tech company. It’ll be great to see where you ended up too." She pulled out her phone. "Here, I’ll send you the details."

My phone buzzed. The invitation materialized. Time and location. A fancy venue I definitely couldn’t have afforded to rent.

"Say you’ll come," Jennifer pressed, her smile never wavering. "Please? It won’t be the same without you."

I doubted that. Jennifer and I had never been close. She’d barely acknowledged my existence in high school unless it was to make some backhanded comment about my scholarship or my clothes.

But she was standing there waiting. And people at nearby tables were starting to look. Starting to notice the interaction.

And something in me, some stubborn part that refused to let her see me weak, made me say, "Okay. I’ll try to make it."

"Yay! Perfect! And bring him." She gestured to Malachi like he was an accessory. A prize to show off. "Everyone will be so jealous. I mean, look at him. You really landed on your feet, didn’t you?"

The implication was clear. She thought I’d married up. Used my looks to escape my circumstances. Just like she would have done.

She finally left after extracting a promise that I’d definitely be there. I watched her walk away, feeling like I’d just agreed to walk into a trap.

I felt the weight of the invitation pressing down on me like a physical thing. A reunion meant seeing everyone I’d left behind. Everyone who’d made me feel small and worthless. Answering questions about my life that I didn’t want to answer. Pretending everything was fine when nothing was fine.

Pretending I was happy in my marriage. Successful. Living the dream.

All lies.

"I’ll go with you," Malachi said quietly, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts.

I looked up at him, confused. "What?"

"To the reunion. I’ll be your partner."

"You don’t have to do that." The words came out automatically. I didn’t want to drag him into my mess. I didn’t want him to see that part of my life. The part where I was nobody.

"I want to."

"Why?"

"Because you don’t want to go alone. Because whoever that woman was, she made you uncomfortable. Because I can see you already regretting saying yes."

He saw too much. Always saw too much.

I didn’t object. Didn’t say anything. What could I say? That I was terrified of going back and facing my past? That seeing all those people who’d looked down on me would bring back every insecurity I’d tried to bury? That I was scared they’d see right through me and know I was still that same poor, scared girl underneath the expensive clothes and the Blackwood name?

"I’m done eating," I said, even though I’d barely touched my pasta. My appetite had disappeared the moment Jennifer appeared. My stomach was twisted in knots.

Malachi studied my face for a long moment. Saw right through me like he always did. Saw the anxiety building. The fear I was trying to hide.

"Yeah. Let’s go."

He signaled for the check, and paid without looking at the total.

"You don’t have to go if you don’t want to," Malachi said, breaking the silence once we were outside.

"I already said I would."

"So? Say you changed your mind. Send a text. Say something came up."

"I can’t do that."

"Why not?"

Because running away would prove them all right. Prove that I was still the same scared girl who never belonged. Who would never be good enough. Who was only pretending to be something she wasn’t.

I couldn’t give them that satisfaction.

"I just can’t," I said quietly.

Malachi reached over and took my hand. His palm was warm against mine. Solid. Real. He squeezed gently, his thumb brushing across my knuckles in a soothing gesture.

"Then we’ll go together. And if anyone makes you uncomfortable, we leave. Deal?"

I looked at our joined hands. At the way his fingers intertwined with mine like they belonged there. At the strength in his grip that said he’d protect me from whatever came.

"Deal," I whispered.