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had enough to be a part of her life again.
    Maisie meant the world to me, but our relationship was that of a little sister and big brother. Michelle had never been a sister in my eyes and I hoped I wasn’t a brother to her. That wasn’t the role I intended to play in her life. Not even close.

Could he really have changed? It had been eight years; in that time I’d changed from a timid, nervous young girl into a tough woman who taught other women to kick ass when required. 
    It’s certainly possible that he’d changed from being a self-centered jerk who blamed me for his mistakes and pushed me out of his life.
    One thing was certain; he cared about Maisie almost as much as I did. I knew they’d talked online over the past year or so, but I hadn’t realized how much he respected her. I’d desperately wanted to confront that evil group of boys in the bar when they’d been laughing at her, but Maisie hated it when I made a scene. Oliver had handled it without even raising his voice. 
    It helped that he was built like a brick shithouse and famous for playing a sport that involved slamming your body into another’s and dragging them down to the floor, but I still appreciated what he’d done.
    I couldn’t protect Maisie in the way I wanted to. I hadn’t been able to eight years ago when those men had appeared from the shadows and thrown acid over us, and I couldn’t do anything about it today, either. 
    Learning self-defense and then teaching it to others went some way to making me feel better, but it never scratched the itch that tormented me at night and every time I looked at the burn mark on Maisie’s face or the one on my upper arm. The one I always kept hidden.
    Oliver dropped us off at the hotel, and I walked Maisie to her room which was just a few doors down from mine. We were both on the top floor and the rooms were so large there were only about five on the entire floor. I’d be close enough to keep an eye on her, but would also have my own privacy. Not that I’d need it.
    If I’d known Oliver was going to meet us after the flight, I wouldn’t have worn tatty old yoga clothes. I couldn’t even change out of them before dinner because a bottle of water had leaked in my suitcase and most of my clothes were damp. I dreaded to think what he thought of me, going out to dinner like I’d come straight from a workout. 
    I caught him staring at me a few times, probably wondering what had happened to the sweet sixteen-year-old he’d first met eight years ago. That summer had been perfect in every way, right up until the last week. Then everything had changed. 
    We’d turned up in London to meet Dad’s new wife for the first time. Maisie had been a quiet and shy girl back then, and she didn’t really understand why Dad was with a woman who wasn’t Mom. 
    It hadn’t helped that sixteen year-old me had become almost like a mom to Maisie, because our own could barely look after herself—let alone us. Maisie shouldn’t have been going to London at the age of six with only me to look after her, but that’s the way it had to be.
    I’d spent the entire flight over telling her everything was going to be okay, but I hadn’t exactly been enthusiastic myself. No sixteen year-old wanted a new Mom, and I certainly didn’t want a step-brother. 
    That all changed when I met Oliver. Step-brother or not, no sixteen-year-old girl could handle meeting someone like Oliver without going weak at the knees. And feeling something between the legs as well. He captivated me from the second I saw him, and only grew more interesting as I found out he was a star athlete, albeit playing a sport I’d never heard of. 
    Oliver was preparing for the World Cup that would be taking place in Paris, so most days he would disappear for training, but would have the afternoon and evening off. That left plenty of time for him to get to know his new sisters. 
    I’d tagged along with him as much as possible, and he never seemed to