Luca raises an eyebrow but keeps his voice lower, quieter, giving us some privacy. It seems he doesn’t want the entire school to know our business, either. Although anyone at the party is privy to it and, quite frankly, the entire hockey team already knows the drama. “I don’t want to fight with you, Nova.”
“So don’t.” I stare him in the eye, willing him to make peace with what’s happening.
“Fine. You and I are good.” His tone says otherwise.
“And Ashton?” I can’t help but feel butterflies in my stomach.
He huffs and folds his arms across his chest. “He’d better watch his back this weekend.”
Sixteen
Luca
I still can’t believe my little sister and my best friend are shacking up behind my back. It’s not bad enough that I warned all of the hockey players on the team to stay away from her, but my best friend had to stab me in the back by screwing her and then keeping it a secret.
Of all the guys on the team, Ashton’s past makes me the angriest about all of it.
Or maybe it’s the fact that we’re so tight and he chose not to tell me.
He had plenty of opportunities to come clean.
No, instead, he had to wait until he let Nova get drunk on her ass and make a huge announcement.
She embarrassed herself.
And while I’m not happy that Harper kept the truth from me, I can see where she would feel it wasn’t her secret to tell.
I’ve forgiven her.
I’ve mildly forgiven Nova. She’s young, foolish, and never been in love. She’s barely an adult; she just turned eighteen. She has an excuse.
There is zero excuse for Ashton.
He didn’t heed my warning.
No, instead, he blatantly chose to fuck my little sister and then lie about it. If he were a man, he’d have come clean immediately after it happened, told me the truth, confessed that he’d slept with her.
Maybe I could have forgiven him.
It’s the lying.
The betrayal.
The fact we live under the same roof and for months he kept it a secret, like she wasn’t good enough to tell anyone they were dating.
That sickens me.
Nova deserves better.
My little sister deserves a man who will shout from the rooftops that he likes her, wants to be with her.
Clearly, that’s not Ashton.
After classes, I head back to the house to help with dinner. Harper’s already in the kitchen, and Zeke is banging the extra pots and pans, pretending to help as he sits on the floor.
“How about I take over the cooking?” I offer, letting her look after Zeke.
“Are you sure? I’m almost done with the prep. It just has to go in the oven.” She’s cutting the potatoes, and the baby carrots are already sliced in half. There’s chicken in some type of glaze, and she’s popping the potatoes and carrots on a separate tray. She glances at the cookbook, following the recipe, which remarkably looks like it might be similar.
