Page 62 of Taken By Sin
I collapse my face into my hands, dying of embarrassment. “I’m going to go take a shower,” I say in a muffle.
“Use bleach!” Bria laughs.
“Want me to join?” Sin suggests.
I rush up the stairs, laughing a little as she bickers with him.
I’m just spraying on leave-in conditioner when Sin walks into my bathroom. It’s marble and pink, all things girly, and it’s so funny seeing him in this space.
“Why are you getting ready for bed in here?”
I gesture to my soft cotton pajamas, wet hair, and steamed mirror. “In my room?”
“This doesn’t have to be your room. We could make it a guest room, or your reading nook.”
I snort, pulling the brush through my hair. “That would be the biggest reading nook I’ve ever seen.”
Sin is asking me to move into his room.
“I’m not ready yet.” I am, I just don’t tell him that.
I barely sleep when I’m not nuzzled against him. I don’t know what my reservations are, but living in his home and moving into his room are two very, very different things.
“Goodnight, Magnolia.” He kisses my cheek, closing the door as he goes. I nearly follow him, not knowing why I don’t.
TWENTY-FIVE
Sleep came by like a ghost in the night, evading me entirely. I should have taken Sin’s offer to move into his room. Let him cradle me against his warm chest.
I slip into the hallway, making my way downstairs with Axle by my side. I pause at the bottom of the staircase, listening in on a hushed argument between Sin and Bria.
“If you ever treat her like that again, I will knock you out,” she quips.
He sighs, and I can imagine he’s running his hand over his face. “You know I can’t help it when we’re at work. I couldn’t just tell everyone we’re together, Bria, you know they will see it as a weakness and come after her.”
“I know.” She pauses. “But you will lose her if shit like that keeps happening.”
“She’s not going anywhere. I won’t allow it.”
Some broken part of me loves to hear those words, while the other side tenses wondering if he’s being truthful.
“Good morning, buddy!” Bria coos as Axle barrels in. I casually walk in behind him, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“I’m serious, Sin,” she warns one last time.
Sin rolls his eyes at his sister, pointing his striking gaze at her. “We’re going for a family visit in two weeks.”
She looks surprised but simply nods, giving me a quick hug before retreating up the stairs.
I, on the other hand, give him a worried look. I’ve never met ‘the parents’ in any scenario. What if his dad hates me? “It’s going to be fine.” Sin smiles, planting a gentle kiss on my lips.
The past two weeks fly by in a blur of activity, each day somehow more surreal than the last. Sin insists on more driving lessons. Most of our sessions involve me gripping the wheel while he smirks from the passenger seat, teasing me about every wrong turn. But I can’t deny I’m getting better, even if he still refuses to let me drive in the city. “Let’s not tempt fate,” he says, half-joking.
Work at Alice in Brewland has settled into a rhythm. Victoria’s patience seems endless, and her sarcastic humor keeps me from losing my mind during the morning rush. I’ve started remembering the regulars’ names and orders—Mrs. Delaney with her impossible latte, Mr. Porter and his black coffee with two sugars, Cameron with his first editions that have luckily been flying from the shelves. There’s something comforting about the routine, even if my feet ache by the end of every shift.
Bria has made it her mission to prepare me for Italy. Every spare moment she’s free, we’re at some boutique or department store, hunting for outfits she insists I’ll “absolutely need.” I try to argue that my wardrobe is fine, but she just rolls her eyes and hands me another dress to try on. “Trust me, Magnolia,” she says with a grin. “Italian fashion is next-level, and you’re not showing up looking like you just left gym class.”
Sin joins us occasionally, but his role is mostly to stand around looking amused while Bria drapes me in scarves or insists I need heels that are impossible to walk in. I catch him smirking as I wobble on a pair of stilettos, and he doesn’t even try to hide his laugh when I glare at him. “You’ll thank her later,” he says, his tone maddeningly calm.