In the thick July heat, Rina sleeps without a shirt.

If she could sleep, that is.

As it is, she just lies shirtless in bed and looks out the window at the petroleum sky.

Gingerly, she untangles herself from the thin blanket and gets out of bed.

She casts another look at her boyfriend, passed out cold, and smiles a little.

It's late enough. She doesn't think to put on a shirt,

as she pads out of her bedroom and down the hallway to the kitchen. Dread swells in her throat

when she sees a figure in the dark kitchen. Her throat tightens, and carefully, she flicks on the light.

Ugh, she says when she realizes it's just her stepbrother, Damon.

It's just you.

He turns around and looks at her.

After a second, he arches his eyebrow, and she realizes that she is practically naked,

just in her stupid cotton panties and nothing else because it's hot, and it's late, and if she'd

thought of him at all, she would have assumed he was asleep in his own room.

But apparently he's as awake as she is, and she should have probably put on a shirt.

He keeps looking at her chest, and a rush of heat scrabbles up her cheeks.

She scoffs.

She's not going to scurry away with her tail tucked in

between her legs just because of Damon. Defiantly, she breezes forward and grabs a glass from the

cupboard next to him. She turns on the tap and pretends she doesn't feel his eyes on her,

even though his gaze cuts a hole in her body that feels strangely erotic.

Rina glances over at him, and her tongue, without permission,

...