“You’re not who I thought you were,” she muses as she lowers her body to the ground across from me, stretching her tanned legs in front of her.
“In a good way or a bad way?”
“I mean, you’re not a complete arrogant arsehole.”
“Thanks, I think?” I chuckle.
Willow ducks her head, her cheeks showing that delicious rosy hue again. “You haven’t exactly been the welcoming stepbrother, you know.”
I wince. She’s right. I was an insolent little shit when she and Gwendoline moved in.
Willow’s mother had been the fifth woman to try taming the infamous George Whitford since my mother lost her battle with depression. These women had either seen me as a burden on the lavish lifestyle they envisioned or a pawn in trying to lock him down. Gwendoline’s the first woman Dad dated with a child though, andI figured if I ignored them like I tried to ignore my dad, it wouldn’t be long before he was busted sticking his dick in his secretary and they’d be signing the divorce papers in no time. To my surprise, Gwendoline seems to have tamed his wandering eye, and he seems to be completely gone on her.
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t personal. My relationship with my father isn’t exactly the greatest, so I wasn’t in a hurry to welcome more people into this already dysfunctional family.”
Her laugh is devoid of all humour. “Takes one dysfunctional family to find another.”
I study her. “You and your mum have your own issues.” It’s a statement not a question. I’ve seen enough of the way Gwendoline speaks to Willow over the past four years, but I guess I was too selfish and too caught up in my own family drama with George to do anything about it. “Why do you let her speak to you like that?”
Willow shrugs as she tugs on the hem of her T-shirt. “I mean, she’s not wrong. I could stand to lose a few kilos.” Her cheeks flush with her admission, but her words have me seeing more than red. I’m furious at this woman who is supposed to be her mother.
“Are you kidding me? Willow, you’re beautiful. You don’t need to lose anything. Any guy would be lucky to call you his.”
“I’m not fishing for compliments, Luca. We both know it’s not as if I have guys lining up to date me. I know I’m a little overweight. Does it hurt that I’m not Gwendoline’s idea of the perfect body shape? Sometimes. But Itake after my dad’s side of the family. I can’t help my genetics.”
“Don’t let her get in your head,” I admonish her with a shake of my head. “She doesn’t deserve to have that power over you.”
“Why don’t you and your dad get along?” she asks in an attempt to shift the attention back to me. “He seems supportive of your career.”
I snort. “He’s supportive of the prestige and attention he gets from me playing football. Behind the scenes, he’s choking on jealousy. It kills him that I’m making his dream my reality. To tell you the truth, he’s the only reason I’m excited to leave Beckford. I can’t wait to put a fucking ocean between us.”
“You never talk about your mum,” Willow says softly. “How does she feel about you moving so far away?”
I blink at her in surprise. Did Dad never tell Gwendoline what happened to Mum? I mean, it’s been fourteen years since she passed, but surely Gwendoline asked where the mother of her new stepchild was or why she wasn’t in the picture?
“Mum died when I was eight.”
She pales, and her eyes widen. “Oh my gosh, Luca. I had no idea. You and your dad never talk about her, and there are no pictures anywhere in the house, so I just assumed… I’m so sorry.”
A wave of guilt washes over me. I never questioned why my father took down all the photos of my mother or refused to talk about her. I guess I figured it was too painful for him to be reminded of her. Then, as the years went on and he started bringing woman after woman intoour lives, my resentment grew until we stopped speaking about anything that didn’t have to do with football.
Without a word, I climb to my feet. Willow’s blue gaze follows me as I step forward and offer her my hand.
“What—”
“I want to show you something.”
She stares at my hand for a moment before she takes a deep breath and accepts it. I pull her to her feet and lead her down the hallway to my bedroom.
Chapter 8
Willow
This is a mistake.
I should not be following my stepbrother down the hallway and into his bedroom, especially not after what we’ve already done—even if he doesn’t know who I am. But this is the most he has ever spoken to me, and if I’m being honest with myself, I want to know more about the guy I’ve been having sex with these past six months.
I repress the little voice inside of me screaming that this is wrong, that I’m essentially lying by omission, that it’s not fair to him.
