Not one to be ignored, however, she continues as she pours two cups. “I think you should apologise to him for walking out on dinner. He was very embarrassed by your behaviour.”
I drop my fork with a clatter and shove my plate away. “No offence, Gwendoline, but it’s none of your business.”
Her mouth drops open, but I have zero fucks to give. I’m still salty with her over the way she spoke to her daughter. Leaving my half-eaten food sitting on the bench, I storm out of the kitchen before I say something I’ll really regret.
With all this pent-up aggression bubbling away inside of me, I need to get out of this house. I don’t even bother with a shirt, only pausing at the front door to pull on my running shoes. The brisk air causes goosebumps to pebble my skin, but I ignore it as I jog down the driveway and along the street. I pick up my pace when I reach the running track that winds around the back of our estate and through the national park.
Thankfully, the track is deserted today, and I finish the ten-kilometre loop without seeing a single soul. There’s nothing but the sound of my feet pounding the dirt and my short, sharp breaths as I push myself harder than I have in a while. I pride myself on my work ethic, and I actually enjoy my workouts—both running and the gym—but I’m under no delusions that the trainingrequirements at my new club are going to be next level. I’m prepared to put in the work, and look forward to the distraction of not only a new club, but a new country as well. It sure as shit will be a step up from living under George Whitford’s rule.
Sweat drips down my body as I let myself back inside the house. I’m looking forward to a shower, and then chilling in my room, watching the replay of last night’s game between Chelsea and Liverpool.
I take the stairs two at a time and make my way down the hall to the bathroom I share with Willow, but as I pass her bedroom, I notice the door is slightly ajar.
I pause outside when I hear voices.
“Where is the delicious step-bro?”
Willow groans. “Not helping, Len. I need to forget about him.”
I should back away. It’s not right to spy on them, but for some strange reason, I need to know why she wants to forget about me. I thought we’d moved past the fact that we’ve ignored each other’s existence for the last four years, and to be fair, that was on both of us. She all but admitted she’d deliberately stayed out of my way as well.
“I still don’t understand why,” her friend replies. There’s something familiar about her voice, although I guess we go to the same school. Maybe we have classes together.
“He’s leaving at the end of the week.”
“All the more reason to tell him.”
Tell me what? I move closer to the open door to see who the mysterious voice belongs to. Willow is pacing back and forth in front of her bed, while her friend leansagainst the bedhead, just out of sight. All I can see is her long legs stretched out in front of her.
“He’sleaving, Leni. There’s no need to complicate things. It wouldn’t be fair to him.”
“What’s not fair,” Leni argues, “is not giving him the chance to decide.”
My curiosity gets the better of me, and before I can think twice, I push the door open and stroll into my stepsister’s bedroom. “Give me the chance to decide what?”
Willow gasps, her hand flying up to her chest in surprise, but that’s not what stops me in my tracks. My eyes widen as I take in the girl sitting on the bed. Ihaveseen this girl around campus with Willow, but I’ve also seen her more recently… as in, last night.
How did I not put things together sooner?
“Red Devil,” I mutter in greeting, but my eyes drift back to Willow, who has paled.
The fiery redhead climbs off the bed and hightails it to the door. “I’m going to leave you two to talk.” She glances between us before shooting Willow an indecipherable look. “Play nice.”
My lips turn down as the door clicks closed behind her, and betrayal stirs deep within me. “So, you’re the angel.”
“I can explain,” she starts but trails off when I shake my head.
“How long have you known it was me?” I ask.
Was this all some game to get back at me for ignoring her all this time? Is it some sick and twisted revenge plot for all the shit Breanna put her through? My stomach drops at the realisation that I’ve beenplayed. Again. Used and abused by someone I thought I was falling for.
“I only worked it out at dinner last night.” Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears at the derisive noise that comes from me at her admission.
“And I’m supposed to just believe you?”
“It’s the truth.”
“So, when I came home and poured my heart out, you knew I was talking about you the whole time?”
