Chapter 72
Camila POV
The warmth from the shower still clung to my skin as I stepped out, wrapping a towel around myself before grabbing another to rub through my hair.
I padded barefoot upstairs, the wooden steps cool under my feet, and pushed my bedroom door open with my hip. The room was dim, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside my window, casting long shadows against the walls. I walked straight to my bed, tossing my phone onto the nightstand before sitting down and continuing to towel–dry my hair.
A soft buzz.
I blinked, glancing at my phone.
A text from Tess.
Tess: Hey, did you do the assignment yet? Mr. Parker is definitely out for blood this time.
I groaned, rolling my eyes. Shit. The assignment. I had completely forgotten.
Fingers still slightly damp, I typed back a quick response.
Me: Crap. No. I completely forgot. Guess I’m dying in class on Monday.
Dropping the phone onto my nightstand, I leaned back against my pillows, still rubbing my towel through my hair absently.
That’s when my gaze flicked to the mirror across the room
My reflection stared back, damp hair clinging to my skin, eyes slightly shadowed.
Ethan knew about Matt drunken creepiness.
I swallowed, my stomach twisting.
That meant he saw everything.
Which meant… he was watching me.
Is he watching me right now?
The thought sent a shiver up my spine.
No, that was ridiculous. Even for Ethan.
Right?
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Chapter 72
I exhaled sharply, trying to shake the feeling, but my eyes flickered toward my window before I could stop. myself.
The curtains fluttered slightly from the night breeze, the window slightly cracked. I hesitated for a second, heart thumping a little faster before I stood and made my way over.
The night outside was quiet. The moon hung lazily in the sky, casting a soft glow over the rooftops. A few houses still had lights on, but mostly, the neighborhood had settled into sleep.
My fingers tightened on the edge of the windowsill.
And before I could think better of it, the words slipped past my lips–low, careful, almost testing.
“How about you come in, Ethan, rather than just standing outside?”
Silence.
Nothing but the chirping of crickets.
I exhaled through my nose, my face heating up as embarrassment clawed its way up my throat.
What the hell was wrong with me?
I was losing it. This whole week–everything–was clearly messing with my head.
With a huff, I shut the window harder than necessary, drawing the curtains closed before turning away.
A soft ding.
I flinched, my pulse jumping at the unexpected noise before I realized it was just my phone.
Tess again?
Shaking my head at my own stupidity, I walked back toward my nightstand, reaching for the device. The screen lit up with another message.
Tess: You’re so screwed, Imao. I’ll send you my notes. You owe me.
I smiled a little, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, ready to type a response-
Knock Knock.
I froze.
Not from my phone.
From downstairs.
My fingers stilled over the screen, breath catching in my throat.
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The front door,
I had locked it, hadn’t 12.
Was it Aunt Anya?
But she was supposed to he gone for the weekend.
I stayed completely still, listening.
Nothing.
Silence hung heavy in the air, wrapping around me like a second skin.
I stood frozen in place, debating whether to just turn around and pretend I hadn’t heard a damn thing. Maybe
it was nothing. Maybe it was just the wind, or a package being delivered ridiculously late, or-
Another knock.
Three slow, deliberate taps.
Okay, nope. Definitely not the wind.
Heart hammering against my ribs, I exhaled and forced my legs to move. The floor was cool against my bare feet as I padded toward the staircase, each step feeling louder than it should have in the quiet house. The glow from the hallway light barely reached the bottom floor, casting everything in shadows as I made my way toward
the door.
I hesitated just a few feet away.
“Who is it?”
Nothing.
Not a single sound from the other side.
My fingers twitched at my sides.
I took a slow step closer, pressing up onto my toes to peek through the peephole, my breath catching as I caught sight of the person standing outside.
Ethan.
A jolt shot through me, my stomach twisting as my hand immediately reached for the lock, my brain barely catching up before I yanked the door open.
“ETHAN?!”
I wasn’t sure if I was more shocked or pissed off.
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He stood there, looking completely unfazed, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodle, eyes flickering over me lazily before meeting my gaze.
“Hey. He exhaled the word like he hadn’t just been caught literally stalking me outside the house.
I let out a humorless laugh, stepping back slightly.
Of course.
How could I even be surprised at this point?
Ethan is a fucking psycho stalker.
Nothing new.
I stared at him for a moment, trying to decide whether I should slam the door in his face or call the cops- maybe both. But then-
“Can I come in?”
His voice cut through the haze of my thoughts, bringing me back to the fact that we were still standing at the door, cold night air creeping in from behind him.
I narrowed my eyes.
Was he serious?
After everything?
After standing outside like a goddamn creep and knocking on my door at this ungodly hour like he was delivering a pizza?
And the worst part?
I wasn’t even freaked out like a normal human being.
No, instead, I just stared at him for a moment longer–searching, trying to understand why I wasn’t immediately reaching for a weapon or kicking him off my porch.
After not being able to come up with a tangible reason, I exhaled sharply and stepped aside. “Yeah.”
Ethan didn’t hesitate. He walked in like he owned the place, like he’d been here a hundred times before. His presence immediately made the space feel smaller, the air thicker.
I shut the door behind him, locking it–because, I don’t know, maybe I needed some sense of control over this bizarre situation.
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Claimed By My Stepbrother
Chapter 75
