My stepsister groans. “It’s not my place to air his dirty laundry.”
“Whatever… I shouldn’t even be surprised.”
“Keoni…”
I’m out of the cabin before she can even try to console me. If he doesn’t want to be here, then fine. Who am I, anyway? No one. Just the family he’s turned into a second thought in his own life.
No one… a fuckingno one.
I’m convinced it’s because of what happened at his graduation party. He’s been avoiding me ever since, and what a childish move that is. It’s been eight years—how could something like that keep him from spending time with his family? Maybe for a little while, sure. But by now? We could’ve gotten past it. Talked about it like the adults we are.
I’ve moved on…
Pfft, fucking liar.
My head tilts back, body rigid, as I take a deep breath. The air iscool and sharp, filling my lungs that give me the steadiness I need.
I’ve got to end this, have this conversation and send him on to California, or simply, away from the cabin. Dealing with my own demons is enough; with him added into the mix, I might actually lose my mind.
Turning from the lake, I head back toward Wildhart. Within minutes, I’m there, glancing at my watch—only half an hour gone. Odds are, he’s still asleep.
I climb the steps, and reach for the door when the smell of coffee hits me.
Wrong again.
My chest tightens as I brace myself to toss out my stepbrother. It feels like a cold, asshole thing to do, but it’s no more than what he’s done to his family, time and time again.
“Get off the table!” The moment the door cracks open, his voice hits my ears. “Clover, what the actual hell, cat? Do you have no manners?”
She meows loudly in protest.
I watch with curiosity as he swats at the cat perched on the wooden dining table, just like she did with his dad. She simply stares back at him. He’ll learn soon enough that she is the real ruler here—no human can tell her what to do.
Wait.
No, he won’t learn that. He’s going to leave.
Stepping inside, I close the door loud enough to draw his attention. Sure enough, his gaze lifts to mine. His short brown hair is a little frazzled, and his hazel eyes—set beneath dark, expressive brows—are just a shade lighter than his sister’s.
“Hey,” he murmurs, slowly placing down the kitchen towel.
I haven’t seen Ayden, not even in photos, since he was seventeen. I don’t scroll social media much, but I do have a presence there, and I blocked him so I wouldn’t come across him, or he I. If he was going to ignore me, then I was going to ignore him.
I know it’s juvenile, but that reasoning is easier to explain than theactualone. It was already torture, living with those feelings. Seeing him would’ve just shoved the knife deeper and finished me off.
He’s grown up, but that’s to be expected after so many years. His face is angular, chiseled without being too harsh around the edges of his jawline. Tall, but still shorter than my six-and-a-half-foot frame. Although he’s muscular, he’s not built like a truck, like I am. He’s more of a sports car sort of build, if that makes sense.
Lean without being skinny. Built without being stocky.
Pretty, but not girly. Symmetrical, and…
Another ‘P’ word comes to mind but, I stifle the thought.
“Hi.”
I pinch off my sneakers with my toes and kick them to the side. The cabin doesn’t have a mudroom, but the entryway has racks and ceramic tile underfoot for easy cleaning. My stepdad always said it worked better in the snow, which is why they switched it out. The tiles are heated, and when the system’s off, they stay cool—a relief right now with the heat.
“Morning run?” He tries again to swat at Clover, but she just swipes back.
