While she'd lived in his mother's home and gone to community college, he'd been able to check up on her regularly. He'd been able to keep his eye on her, even if it meant dropping by to visit his mother way more often than he was comfortable with. Courtney had been right there, where he could study her eyes and try to pinpoint even the slightest change her emotions might have undergone. He could watch her, even if he couldn't touch her. He'd found that not touching her, while pure agony, was something that he could live with, if only barely. After that one horrendous misstep he'd taken on her eighteenth birthday, he'd endured not touching her as he'd waited for her to grow up, waited for her to become less vulnerable with the passing of time.
He'd struggled with his conscience the entire time. She was an orphan who lived in the family home for God's sake; he should absolutely leave her alone. His family had embraced her as if she were one of their own, and why the hell couldn't he feel the same?
But that wasn't the way he felt about her, it never had been. She wasn't one of them.
She wasn't his sister. She wasn't even his stepsister. She didn't carry their last name and there wasn't an ounce of shared blood between them. No matter how hard he tried to forget those facts, he couldn't. He'd been intrigued by her since the moment she'd come to St. Louis, even though he didn't understand exactly why. Certainly she'd been pretty, even as a teenager, even if it had been a quiet beauty that she herself didn't seem to recognize.
But it was her strong character, her fortitude that held his attention, at least at first. She'd been just a girl, and really, his emotions hadn't turned into infatuation for months, maybe almost a year. But the second he'd realized her eighteenth birthday was right around the corner, his curious and sympathetic thoughts toward her had transformed into sexual thoughts. He'd gone from wanting to hold her in his arms and stroke her hair, to wanting to hold her underneath him and stroke her body.
She became something he fervently wanted that he couldn't have. It had made him feel like a sick fuck, but he'd never been able to shake his need for her. And the fact was, letting Courtney go to Florida had been the hardest thing he'd ever done. It was only supposed to have been for two years, but with graduate school, it had turned into four.
But now she was back, and she was all grown up. She wouldn't be as vulnerable anymore.
And he was damned if he was ever going to let her leave again.
He leaned against the wall of the elevator as it rose to the top of the building and tried to contain the turmoil roiling through his bloodstream, but it was impossible.
Courtney was back. She was his.
And in a few moments, she'd know that truth.
****
Courtney began stacking her shoes in the built-in shelving unit at the back of the closet. As much as she tried to keep her mind focused on something productive, like preparing for her job interviews, she couldn't keep her mind off Nick. If the argument he'd had with Damian before she'd left for Florida all those years ago had been bad, it still didn't compare to how he'd acted during her four years away.
When Courtney had left St. Louis, her initial plan was to only be gone the two years it would take to finish her bachelor's degree. Justine had made the trip down with her in Courtney's car, helping her drive part of the way. Her godmother had stayed for a couple of days, helping her settle into her off-campus apartment with her girlfriends, before flying back to Missouri.
The first few months in Florida had flown by for Courtney. Settling into classes and familiarizing herself with the huge university was actually secondary; getting caught up with her girlfriends was the most important thing and it had been wonderful, amazing. It was exactly what Courtney had needed emotionally, and the last of her deep, soul-crushing grief had finally begun to recede.
Although she was having fun at school and adjusting well, Courtney was surprised that she missed St. Louis so much. It confused her. How could she be homesick when she was finally home? But she didn't feel like she was home; she was homesick. She and Justine had grown close over the years, the older woman becoming a second mother to her as well as a friend, and so they talked on the phone often. Justine had always been involved in Courtney's life, and her godmother always asked about boys. And at the beginning of her time in Florida, at least, Courtney always told the other woman the truth. Sometimes there was something to tell, and sometimes there wasn't.