Falling for my Enemy's Brother
Chapter 53: Silent Signals

Chapter 53: Silent Signals

The group fell into a sudden, awkward silence. Even the night air seemed to pause.

Phoebe blinked. Megan raised a brow. Keith looked mildly alarmed.

Craig never offered rides. Ever.

Merlina stared, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability behind his steady eyes.

Her heart jumped again, like the first time she saw him in the theater, only heavier this time.

"Oh," she said, trying to sound casual. "Okay. Yeah. That... works."

Craig nodded once, slipping his hands into his pockets.

Phoebe equally raised an eyebrow, then smirked. "Well, now I’m starving. Barsea awaits!"

As the group began to disperse, Merlina fell into step beside Craig, her pulse fluttering.

She didn’t know what the car ride would bring. Or what she was ready to say.

Louis turned to Merlina. "I’ll text you when I get home."

Before she could reply, he leaned in and kissed her. Quick, casual, and just a little too public.

Her breath stalled, not from the act, but from the charged awareness that Craig was watching.

Her stomach twisted. The silence after the kiss felt heavier than it should have. Craig didn’t speak, yet his presence pressed in around her, stirring a guilt she didn’t fully understand.

Merlina pulled back and forced a smile. "Bye, Louis."

He gave a two-finger wave to the others and walked off toward the parking lot.

She lingered a moment too long, pretending to fix her hair just to avoid turning around. Then finally, she faced him.

"Ready?"

Craig didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached into his pocket and tossed her his car keys. She caught them on reflex, brows lifting in surprise.

"You drive Megan," he said, his tone flat, like he’d decided not to feel anything at all. "I’ll ride with Keith."

Before she could respond, he turned and walked off, leaving her standing there with the keys in her hand and a thousand questions in her chest.

Merlina stood frozen for a second, Craig’s car keys still warm in her hand. She stared after him, trying to make sense of the shift in his mood. Was it the kiss? Or something else entirely?

The car was a sleek black Mercedes AMG coupe, waited for her in the lot. Elegant. Fast. Absolutely not the kind of ride she’d ever imagined driving, especially not while Craig sulked off like some misunderstood anti-hero in a college drama.

She drove in silence, following Keith’s directions to Barsea. The mood shifted the second they entered the restaurant. Neon lights. Clinking glasses. Loud music humming just beneath a layer of casual conversation.

Phoebe was already in rare form. "Keith, you don’t have eagle eyes, you have duck eyes," she said with a laugh, sliding into the booth like she owned the place.

Megan followed, tossing her curls over her shoulder. "Duck eyes and the attention span of a goldfish," she added. "Seriously, how did you miss that girl flirting with you? She practically threw her phone number at your face."

Keith held up his hands in defense, smirking. "Maybe I’m just humble. Can’t help it if I don’t walk around assuming every girl wants me."

Phoebe snorted. "Oh please. You practically walked into a wall because you were staring at your own reflection in the window."

"Okay wow—" Keith began, but Megan cut him off.

"We’re just saying, it’s wild how confident you are for someone who can’t tell a wink from an eye twitch."

Keith blinked, pretending to be hurt. "Y’all came here to hang out or destroy my ego?"

Phoebe and Megan exchanged a look, then in perfect sync, both replied, "Yes."

Keith laughed, but leaned back dramatically in his chair. "Craig, you need to rescue me. These girls are onto me."

"Don’t hold your breath," Phoebe shot back, almost immediately. "Craig’s way too cool and cocky to rescue anyone but his own ego."

Craig didn’t miss a beat. "Yeah, sorry... what was your name again?"

Phoebe gasped, clutching her chest like she’d been wounded. "Mer-li-na," she said, slow and exaggerated. "I guess you’ll never forget that one."

Craig’s eyes flicked to Merlina, brows narrowing, then back to Phoebe. "What the hell?"

Merlina shifted, her smile strained. "I think Phoebe’s maybe had a little too much to drink."

But Phoebe just rolled her eyes and powered through, unbothered. "Craig, seriously. You need to loosen up. You always act like you’ve got stocks to monitor."

Craig’s voice dropped, cold and clipped. "Can we not talk about me right now?"

The tension buzzed around the table like static.

Keith, clearly trying to pivot, raised his glass with a grin too wide to be natural. "Sure. Let’s talk about Megan." He turned with a lopsided grin. "Phoebe says you don’t like guys. Spill."

The table fell into an uneasy silence. Megan froze mid-sip, lowering her glass slowly.

Her voice came out calm, but razor-sharp. "Wow. Cool way to phrase that, Keith."

"Come on, we won’t judge. You a lesbian or something?" Keith asked, eyeing Megan with with an obnoxious smile

Phoebe looked up, suddenly sobered. "Keith—"

"No, no," Megan said, her smile tight. "I’d love to ’spill.’ Maybe right after Keith tells us if he’s always this tactless or just when he’s drunk." She flicked a piece of cold chips at him.

Keith dodged, laughing way too hard.

Craig leaned back, arms crossed, eyes scanning the group like he was regretting every second of being there.

Merlina picked at the label on her bottle, wishing she could disappear.

Phoebe gave an awkward laugh. "Okay, let’s all chill. Keith was just being... Keith."

Megan rolled her eyes. "I like guys. Just not the ones Phoebe keeps pushing onto me."

Phoebe gasped dramatically. "So Landon’s out? And Bryan? What about Christian? The one with the hair? Or what’s-his-name from Physics Lab who wears glasses like Clark Kent?"

The table erupted in light laughter. For a moment, it almost felt normal, easy.

Until Merlina’s phone vibrated. Once

Craig: I need to talk to you. It’s important.

Merlina’s smile faltered. Her heart gave a sudden lurch.

She glanced up—and found Craig already looking at her. Eyes locked. Unblinking. Completely unreadable.

Not a single twitch in his expression to betray that he’d just messaged her.

Her breath caught.

He looked away, calmly lifting his glass like nothing had happened. Like he wasn’t secretly texting her right in front of their friends.

She blinked, unsure on how to handle this, her fingers tightening around the glass, then her thumb hovered as she typed back.

Merlina: Now?

His reply came almost instantly. Another buzz.

Craig: What happened with you and Conor?

She stared at the message, her fingers tingling. The air around her suddenly felt heavier.

Merlina: There’s nothing to talk about. He says he’s not responsible. That’s it.

Another buzz, she shifted uncomfortably in her sit as she held up her phone to read.

Craig: Meet me at the restroom. Please. You go first, then I’ll follow. I need to talk to you, alone.

Her pulse thundered in her ears. She blinked hard, willing her hands to stay still as she typed. But her mind was racing.

Was he serious? Right now? She looked up at him again, and there he was, mid-sip, cool as ever. Like he hadn’t just texted her that he needed her. Alone.

Phoebe tilted her head slightly, squinting. Her eyes darted between Merlina and Craig, then narrowed. "Why are you guys both on your phones?"

Merlina jumped, her hand knocking her water glass just enough to make it wobble. She caught it mid-fall, heat rushing up her neck.

Before Merlina could even think of a reply, Keith chimed in, grinning. "And paying no attention."

"I—sorry," she stammered. "I was just texting Louis." She flipped her phone face-down like it had betrayed her. "Checking on him."

Megan raised a brow, not bothering to hide her smirk. "Let me guess, he’s still married to his spreadsheets and economic models?"

Merlina forced a breathy laugh, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Yeah. Something like that." She took a sip of her drink, then looked over at Craig, who didn’t bother explaining anything.

The conversation moved on, the air growing lighter again—until Craig, completely deadpan, reached for his glass and "accidentally" tipped it toward her.

The red wine splashed across her skirt—not a full spill, just a few drops, but enough to leave a faint stain that couldn’t be ignored.

"Oh my God," she said, standing abruptly. Her mouth hung open, eyes wide—like she knew, deep down, that he’d done it on purpose.

Craig stood too, calm as ever. "Sorry," he muttered. "Let me help."

She stared at him, waiting—half-expecting someone at the table to call it out, to say ’really, Craig?’

But no one did.

No one questioned it.

Moments later, inside the dimly lit restroom, Merlina stood by the sink, dabbing at the red blotch on her skirt with crumpled paper towels. The scent of cheap soap and lavender hung in the air.

Craig leaned casually against the counter beside her, arms crossed. Silent.

She felt his gaze before she looked up. And when she did—when their eyes met in the mirror, it was like everything else fell away.

The moment stretched. Thick. Charged. Unavoidable.

Her voice came quiet, but sharp as glass. "Are you always this manipulative?"