“That’s right. Congratulations, lovebirds.” Alex turns stiffly,marking up the scores. Trevor and I didn’t win, but we performed better than I thought we would, and obviously better than Alex had predicted. I can’t help but notice that Teyonna isn’t looking too happy about what this game revealed, either, and small victories dissolve tart on my tongue.
“I don’t think so,” I growl, following Alex outside. He’s rambling at a brisk clip through the downpour, red Buckeyes hat tugged low over his forehead, down the rocky path to the wide gravel lot. The driver’s door of his black truck slams shut.
I open it back up while he’s yanking the seatbelt across his body.
Alex starts, seatbelt rewinding. “Agh! What are you doing?”
“What the hell was that back there?”
He glowers. “You need to move.”
“You didn’t give anybody else bullshit questions likewhere they’ve had sexandwhat are their bedroom habits. Were you trying to embarrass me? Because it didn’t work. Or are there any other details you’d still like to know? You want to know what color bra I’ve got on right now?” I yank my collar aside so he can view the lavender satin.
He flushes, brows knitting together as he turns away to stare through the windshield.
“You better fucking open your mouth and tell me what you were thinking back there.”
“You know what I thought?” He rips his hat off, rubs a hand all over his head, then slams it back on again. Its color brings out the blood burning under his skin. “I thought you and Trevorweren’t actually together. I thought you were pretending to date Trevor because you wanted an excuse to come to the wedding, to see me. Be around me.”
“I didn’t even know there was going tobea wedding when we showed up! Trevor’s dad was in town, and we were going to have lunch with him, do our pitch. That’s what we thought.”
“Something about it felt off. Maybe the two of you saw me before I spotted you, and you cooked up a story about being together. To rub it in my face that you were with somebody else now, or to piss me off because you were with the guy who’s going to be my stepbrother. I don’t know.”
“Because everything I do must revolve around you?”
He flinches. Doesn’t meet my eyes. Then grips the steering wheel, hard, shaking it a little. Laughs without humor. “The back of his car. Goddamn.”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t,” he replies, razor-sharp. “Just surprised at you.”
“You’re not allowed to judge me.” He tries to close his door, but I wrest it open wider, rain pitting off the dashboard, the steering wheel, darkening his jeans. His knee bounces uncontrollably. “It was fine for me to take my clothes off in the bed of your truck at eighteen, when wealmostwent all the way but you changed your mind—but I can’t do the same with somebody else when I’m damn near thirty?”
“Not with him, you can’t. He’s going to be my stepbrother. How could you do this to me? How would you feel if I slept with one of your sisters?”
The words are a physical slap.
“For the last time, I didn’t know you and Trevor were going to be stepbrothers. Neither did he! Or you!”
“You and Trevor don’t act...”
“Like what?” I press.
“You don’t look at each other with any kind of deeper feeling.”
My hands clench. “You just think I’m incapable of wanting anyone other than you.”
His eyes are piercing. “Yes. And I don’t give a shit if it makes me sound conceited. Yes. As long as I’m alive, how could you be satisfied with anybody else?” He looks genuinely perplexed at the thought. “It doesn’t make sense that you’re over me, when every signal you send says otherwise. I thought you had to be lying about being happily in love with him; that you were sorry you dumped me and wanted to make sure I missed you back. I don’t understand how I got it so wrong. Will you please let me shut my door now? I cannot fucking breathe with you here.”
All I see is red. His pulse and mine, adrenaline, fury. The betrayal he exudes, the self-righteous indignation, the shock that he might be wrong about anything, ever, is an itch inside my skull that I can’t scratch, inflamed by my embarrassment that he’s right about some of it. I had hoped that enough time had passed, that I had changed enough, that I had become unreadable to him. It never occurred to me that he’d figure me out all over again exactly like he did the first time. He’s even more perceptive now. And three times more persistent. I can’t tell if Alex wantsmeto wanthimbecausehewantsme, or if he simply craves the satisfaction of knowing I never got over him. He drives me up the goddamn wall. I don’t want to be affected by this man! I hate how wildly out of control he makes me feel, and how unfair it is that I’ll never be able to look at him without the floor giving out from beneath me.
I’ll never beover it. I don’t know why. I don’t know what it isabout this person—who I half despise right now—that has me in such an iron grip. As I stand here, allowing this cold truth to slide over me, I want to scream at the unfairness.
“Get over yourself,” I reply instead, and slam his door shut.
Sure wish I could.
Chapter Seventeen
