“Stop flirting. Stop the comments. Stop touching my arm when you laugh. Just… stop. Because I can’t tell what’s real anymore.”
“Not just the flirting,” I continued. “I think about how you save me the last slice of pizza even when you’re still hungry. How you defended me to your mom when I failed that math test. How you laughed so hard at my dumb joke last month that you snorted. That’s the Chloe I like. Not the performance.” Life With a Flirty Step-Sister -Final- -Completed-
She blinked. “Stop what?”