He sighs and looks over at me. “If someone attacks you, I won’t ignore you.”
“He speaks.”
Chase rolls his eyes and looks out the window. Back to ignoring me once again. I wish I didn’t care, but it’s eating at me. It makes me want to go over and shake him or slap him. Anything would be better than this nothing he’s giving me. So, I ended things between us. We can at least act amicably like adults. Especially since there’s no avoiding each other forever.
It’s just the two of us on this private jet besides the crew, and I try not to be intimidated by it. It’s a small aircraft, manned by two pilots and one stewardess, who has mostly left us alone.
About midway through the flight, I have to use the bathroom, and am shocked by how nice it is in here. I’m used to the small nasty bathrooms on public flights, this is anything but. There’s actually more room for me to maneuver, which is a surprise. I’ve barely finished, before someone is knocking at the door.
When I open the door, Chase is on the other side. He pushes me in and closes the door behind us.
“What are you doing?” I ask, nerves making my heart hammer. I’m not the best flyer. I usually spend the majority of my flight buckled in, trying to tell myself I’m fine while I count the minutes until landing.
“I’ve kept my distance, Melody. But seeing you every day in such close quarters is driving me nuts. You have no idea how much it kills me that I can’t reach out and touch you like I want to.” He steps closer, and while the bathroom is marginally larger than a typical airline, it’s still a small plane and there isn’t that much room. My ass hits the sink as his hand comes up to my neck. “I want to kiss you, and fuck you, and hear those noises you make when you come.”
“We can’t,” I say.
He nods his head and places his forehead against mine. “I know. But I can’t help that I want you. That I know exactly how you taste. I can’t just forget that, Melody. But I can pretend. To get through this weekend, I’ll play nice. I’ll smile and act like the perfect stepbrother, even if the whole time I’ll be picturing you naked beneath me.”
I whimper, placing my hand on his chest. He recoils immediately and I shrivel from the instant rejection. “If you touch me, I won’t be able to stop myself. I’ll take you right here on this sink without a care who the fuck can hear us.”
“Sorry.” I hate how much his word affect me. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that the distance between us has been just as torturous for me, but I don’t tell him that. I keep the words stuffed down deep, knowing that uttering them out loud will do no good other than hurt us both further.
He scoffs and runs his hands through his hair. “You have no idea how much being near you kills me.”
Chase opens the door and leaves me alone in the bathroom with nothing but his words to haunt me.
There’s nothing to be done about it, though, Our situation is fixed. Our parents are married. I mean hell, we’re headed to their ceremony so they can do it again, only this time in front of their friends and family. He’s still my stepbrother, and I’m still his stepsister. And that fact makes me want to scream into the void until my voice goes hoarse. Go figure, I fall for a guy, and it turns out I can’t have him.
I head back to my seat and double check my buckle, determined to make it unscathed this weekend. But one look in Chase’s’ direction sends my heart flying into my throat, because he’s looking at me with such a raw vulnerability that breaks me. Turning away, I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye knowing I can’t do anything to change our situation. And it hurts like hell.
22
CHASE
Ihate this country club. Being here floods me with memories of my mom, and how we would come here when she was alive. I wonder what she would think of dad getting married to another woman at their club. With their friends. Replacing her as if she never existed.
Anger and grief make for an ugly combination, and I feel ready to lash out at anyone that crosses me today. I just need to make it through the reception and then I can get the fuck out of here, away from the familiar society that I’ve known my whole life. Away from the fake smiles and polite conversation that are nothing but a waste of time.
My dad has rented the entire club and the onsite suites. Melody and I are staying in separate rooms, and it feels weird to not be sharing a space with her for once. The ride from the airport was tense and long having been stuck in traffic with an Uber driver that was listening to Mariah Carey’s greatest hits on repeat. It would have been tolerable if he didn’t insist on singing along and off key the whole time. I playback how I had Melody pressed up against the sink and how badly I wanted her. It’s been fucking killing me to not touch her. Not talk to her. Hell, I haven’t even been able to look at her, because just being near her is torture.
My phone pings with an incoming message from the private investigator that just reads, “Dead end. Stop digging.”
Fuck. Maybe it’s time to give up and accept the police’s findings, no matter how much it pains me. Doing so feels like I’m betraying my mom though. She deserves justice for what happened to her, and deep in my bones I know it wasn’t just some accident.
As soon as we arrive, I’m bombarded by my dad’s acquaintances and an ever-present cloud of Chanel that seems to have seeped into the damask style carpet. I’m forced to shove my feelings down and play the dutiful son. Happy to be here. I make conversation and force my way through the room.
Melody slinks off as I’m ambushed by my Great Aunt Muriel.
“My darling, how is school?” She asks while pinching my cheek.
“It’s alright.”
Her wrinkled hand lingers on my cheek. “Such a shame about your mother. She’d be rolling in her grave if she knew Travis brought that tramp here.”
I chuckle at her brazenness, respecting the hell out of her for it. Great Aunt Muriel can always be trusted to say whatever she wants, and no one corrects her.
“Will you be singing today?” She asks.
