Invisible To My Sister's Brother In Law

Serena.

Morning arrives quickly. I wake up in the most energetic and high-spirited mood. I move through my routine in the usual orderly way: shower, dress, eat breakfast, and hum under my breath while I pack my bag for the club.

In a matter of time, I am done and step outside, ready to face the day.

And there, waiting far from my front door, is Roman's car.

Roman is leaning against the side of his car with one hand buried in his pocket, his body relaxed in that confident way.

His ever-glowing eyes are already on me, unblinking. Confusion floods me as I examine the shocking scenario before me with a raised brow.

I try not to raise my voice, but to keep it low and controlled, but I fail.

"What are you doing in front of my house?"

He doesn't move an inch from the car. "I came to pick you up."

The casual claim makes my brows furrow even deeper.

"You don't have to do that. I'm sorry. People will start thinking otherwise if we're seen together, boarding the same vehicle and showing up at a very early hour at my residence."

An undeniable low smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"Look at your neighborhood, silent, barely a single soul walking. There's nobody around to see and think otherwise."

I glance down at the bereft street, even though I know he wasn't lying.

"It's not silent. It's a busy environment. People just haven't come out in multitudes. They'll notice things."

"Come on," he urges, patient but with firmness. "Get in. Stop arguing."

Every thought tells me to decline, to turn around and walk to the nearest bus stop like a normal person who only has not kissed her patient on her sister's couch.

But the alternative, standing here under his lingering gaze, feels worse. In the end, I walk to the passenger side and climb in, shutting the door with finality.

The moment the engine starts, he commences a conversation, fully focusing on the road.

"You behave strangely. You are the team's psychologist, yet you're running away from me like I'm a stranger."

My lips go sealed, clueless about what to say. "I don't actually want personal stuff mixing up with work-related issues. That would be fatal."

He goes quiet for a beat, then his voice comes up lower as he's done thinking it through.

"What happened yesterday was nothing. It was more than work. Far above it."

I feel my hands tighten in my thighs. "It was an accidental mistake. Something that should never have happened."

I sense the shift in him, the way his shoulders stiffen, the brief flicker of something that looks almost like hurt before he keeps his face back to normal again.

The silence that follows is full of everything we are not saying.

"I don't want to talk about the kiss anymore," I say softly, but in the tiniest voice ever.

"Fine."

I swallow and add the truth that sits heaviest. Perhaps it might spark some sense into him.

"Aside from the fact that I'm Mara's sister, your brother's wife, I can't betray her."

He throws me a quick look in mockery. "Is that really so? You seem to be very family-committed."

"I do."

Another stretch of silence between us, then, almost lightly, "How about we grab something on the way? Morning meal."

"I don't want to." The refusal is rushed and final. I don't want to sit across from him in some restaurant and pretend all is well.

We reach the club grounds in a quick time. He parks in the lot in front of the grandstand building and turns off the engine. In a twinkle of an eye, he leans across the center console, his body coming so close that the scent of his cologne fills my nostrils.

My breath locks. My muscles tense. For a dizzy second, I am certain he is going to close the remaining distance and kiss me again, right here, where anyone could see. My heart slams against my ribs.

Against my naughty thoughts, his hand moves to the seatbelt clasp. The soft click of it releasing is the most relieving thing ever.

I frantically dash out of the car the moment the belt is off me, nearly stumbling in my haste. My breath comes in short and uneven as I widen the distance between us, never looking back.

Inside my office, I shut the door harder than necessary and press both palms to my cheeks, slapping them lightly more than twice as if to transfer some sense back into myself.

I cannot keep reacting this way whenever I am around him, having silly thoughts and thinking negatively.

I make myself breathe gradually until everything is back to normal. Only then do I leave the office and walk toward the training field.

The head coach already has the full squad gathered under the morning sun. Players stretch and jog while he calls out instructions.

Roman stands near the front, carrying out his exercises diligently. My eyes drop to his mouth, and I'm shamelessly craving just to have one more taste.

A light tap drops on my shoulder that makes me jump so hard I nearly drop the tablet in my hand.

I turn. A middle-aged man in a white scrub gown and thin-rimmed glasses stands beside me, his expression giving the impression that he's mildly amused and disturbed.

"Dr. Cole," he introduces himself. "I'm the club doctor."

I manage a polite smile even though my pulse is still racing from the scare.

"Nice to meet you, Dr. Cole, although I've never seen you before. This is my first time meeting you both in real time and on screen."

He chuckles softly. "Yes, it is for you. But it isn't the same for me. Your pictures have been circulating all over the football community for the last forty-eight hours."