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he next few days are devoted to working, which means I rarely get a second in the gym. It doesn't stop me from thinking about it, though; it doesn't stop me from thinking about her.

Mostly, I think about the things that irritate the hell out of me, like how she talks too much, or the skintight outfits she chooses to train in, or the fact that my brother is obsessed with her. But sometimes, when I least expect it, I think about the things I like, like her giggly laugh, or her smile, or how she talks too much.

Then, on Wednesday, when I'm in the middle of cooking dinner, the doorbell rings. I open it and there she is, standing on the porch in a fluffy yellow jacket with the cutest damn smile on her face.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

She steps forward, past me, and into the narrow hallway. "Kino invited me. We're working on a project together for English."

I'm so surprised to see her standing in my house that all I can do is look at her. The hallway is too small for the both of us, so she's practically pressed to my chest. Her eyes meet mine, dark and inquisitive. When I glance at her lips, she smirks.

"What project?" I ask.

She looks at me through her lashes, and I swear, she's doing it on purpose. "Romeo and Juliet. He said you guys don't have a laptop fast enough to use, so I brought mine." She waves her pink laptop case as if I can't see her holding it. Then her eyes fall on the photo frames lining the wall behind me. She steps even closer, studying a picture of me, Kino, and Dad.

"That your dad?" she asks.

I tense, still looking at her. She's got her long hair pulled into a high ponytail, which makes her cheekbones look even more pronounced. "Yeah."

She looks at me now, and I hold my breath. "You look just like him."

I give her a look. "Don't tell me that."

"You don't want to look like him?" she asks.

"I don't want anything to do with him." She looks at me expectantly as though waiting for an explanation, so I sigh and add, "He ran out on us a few years ago. Took my mom's savings with him."

Her eyes soften. I have to look away, because those doe-like eyes do something funny to my chest. She reaches out to touch my arm, causing me to freeze.

"If that's the kind of person he is, you're better off without him," she says.

It's not the usual, I'm sorry to hear that, bullshit that people usually give. Somehow, it's a lot more comforting.

"Wait here," I say, moving past her. "I'll see if he's ready." Without another word, I head upstairs and knock on Kino's door, needing some space from her. "Alyssa's downstairs," I call through the door. "You want me to send her up?" I open the door without waiting for an answer and see him stood in front of the mirror, in the process of styling his hair.

"Give me one second," he says, reaching for the gel.

I lean on the doorframe, watching him. What is it about this girl that has men acting stupid? "Your hair is fine, and you couldn't have done your project at school?"

He glances over and grins. "You're the one always telling me that I need to put myself out there. Well, that's what I'm doing. For once, I'm putting myself out there." He turns back to the mirror and frowns. "Do I look okay?"

My eyes darken. This is not good. "I've changed my mind," I say. "You can study in the kitchen."

He rolls his eyes but doesn't argue. He knows it's futile with me. Instead, after another glance in the mirror, he runs downstairs like an excited kid and greets Alyssa. I run a hand down my jaw in frustration. This is getting complicated.

The pair of them sit at the kitchen table while I get on with dinner. Alyssa looks up at me just as I'm searing the steak for the fajitas, and smiles.

"I didn't know you could cook," she says.

"I can cook, too," Kino says. "Our mom works a lot, so we kind of had to learn how to or end up eating Cheetos every night."

I ignore them and carry on cooking. After a second or two, she opens up her Macbook and taps away on the keyboard while Kino stares at her like a lovesick puppy.

"Okay," she says to him. "So, the task is to do a character analysis on Romeo." She looks up now. "Let's start with naming some of his attributes and then we can go into more detail. First, he's obviously very passionate and romantic. He–" She happens to glance up just as I'm rolling my eyes. She freezes. "Sorry, was there something you wanted to say, Max?"

"Yeah," I say, turning to face her. "Romeo isn't romantic. He's impulsive and naive. He's treated like some literary hero, but he's not."

Kino shoots me a glare. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

I smirk and wave my spatula at him, about to start on my assorted peppers, when Alyssa says, "No, I want to hear why you think that."

I shrug and say, "He falls in love with a girl he's known for all of two minutes, after being madly in love with Rosaline. That's not romantic, that's damn right fickle. And he knew Juliet for what, four days before he topped himself? Sounds toxic to me."

Kino turns to Alyssa and says, "My brother, the love expert."

"Hey," I say touchily. "I don't have to be a love expert to know that falling in love with someone you barely know is stupid."

"You can fall in love with someone you hardly know, though," Kino says.

"No, you can't," I say. "That's not love."

"Right, because you've had so many great loves to draw experience from," Kino says.

I fold my arms and say, "So have you."

Alyssa looks between us awkwardly and moves the conversation to something else, so I get back to cooking. When I'm finished, I serve them both up a plate and disappear to my room to watch some tv. Stuck in a love square with my brother, Goldilocks, and her asshole of a boyfriend, is not somewhere I want to be. The longer I can stay away from her, the better.

It's hard, though, when we're in the same house. At some point, when I'm coming out of the bathroom, she walks straight into me. She's about to go flying, so I put my hands on her waist to steady her.

"Are you all right?" I ask. I'm staring down at her, searching her face for signs of distress.

"No," she says. "I think I'm concussed."

I can't help but grin as I hold up three fingers. My other hand stays on her waist. "How many fingers am I holding?"

"Two." My face falls, and she laughs. "I'm kidding. Seriously, though. Your chest is like concrete. Lay off the steroids."

I grin and say, "Hey, this is all natural."

Her eyes skim my t-shirt, like she's picturing what lies beneath. My heart skips a beat. She drags her eyes back up to my face, and I focus on her lips. They are full and soft; I'm overcome with the urge to taste them.

Shit.

I drag my eyes back to hers and say, "You convinced your boyfriend to fight yet?"

She nods and says, "Yeah, he agreed as soon as I mentioned you. I don't think he likes you very much."

I can't help but smirk. "The feeling is mutual. Won't your parents mind?"

Her easy expression falters. She briefly looks at the wall before meeting my gaze again. "My dad's away on a business trip this weekend and my mom will be at the spa. Even if they were home, they probably wouldn't care."

I frown a little. "They leave you home alone like that?"

She stiffens, then nods. "I'm eighteen. I can be left at home alone, you know."

I can sense a slight sharpness in her tone, so I grin and say, "I forget you're just a baby."

She raises an eyebrow and takes a step forward. "You're only two years older. Don't go thinking you're all mature and worldly."

"I am mature," I say, my voice low. She's standing so close, all it would take is for me to lean in an inch, and my mouth would be on hers.

She leans in even closer, no doubt about to deliver some cutting response, but the sound of Kino calling her has us jumping apart. I take a deep breath, and with one last look, she heads back downstairs to my brother.

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