Page 41 of The Accident

“Do you want to talk about last night?”

He still doesn’t speak.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I say, and that gets a reaction. My stepbrother lets out a sharp breath, sets his own fork down, and leans back against his chair. His arms are folded, the veins in his forearms standing up in ridges.

“You want to talk about it,” he says.

I swallow. “Yeah. Maybe. Why not? Could be fun.”

He hesitates.

I trace a circle on the rim of my mug with one fingertip, and when I finally get the words out, they sound nothing like me: “You, um. You kissed me everywhere, but you made me sleep in the guest room. You said you were going to ruin me, but then you didn’t. So what happened?”

His mouth twitches. Not a smile, not a frown, just a glitch in the matrix. “You wanted me to?”

“I don’t know,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “Maybe. It’s confusing.”

He nods once, like this is what he expected, and then sits there for a long moment, motionless except for the pulse in his jaw.

“I fucked up,” he says, voice so low I have to lean forward to catch it. “I never should have touched you, Kayleigh.”

I grip the mug until my fingers go white. “You already did. Multiple times, I might point out.”

“Yeah.” He says it like an admission. “That was wrong. I’m your stepbrother. We’re related. Plus, I’m way too old for you. I shouldn’t have let any of that happen.”

I stare at him. My heart is thumping so loud I can feel it in my eyelids.

“Well, I think it’s too late for that,” I say in a chipper voice. “I mean, we’ve crossed that bridge already, if you know what I mean.”

He doesn’t agree. If anything, his face goes even more closed-off, every feature settling into a line. “It’s not going to happen again.”

Something breaks in my chest, but I don’t let it show. “Why?” I say, and it comes out almost a demand. “It’s not like we’re actually related, as you pointed out. Our parents got married, what, two years ago? We were strangers before that.”

Trevor finally looks at me—really looks—and the weight of it is a punch in the sternum.

“That’s not the point,” he says. “The point is that I know better. I’ve been an asshole my whole life, and it’s been fucking amazing, to be honest. But even I have boundaries, and I’m not going to do this to you. Your life is just starting, Kayleigh. You have no idea what you’re even doing.”

I flinch, like he slapped me. “Wow. Okay. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

He runs a hand through his hair, lets it drop, looks tired suddenly. “It’s not an insult. I mean, look at you. You’re still wearing my clothes, like you can’t even figure out how to dress yourself.”

“You gave me these clothes to wear,” I say, staring at him. “I don’t have anything else with me. What am I supposed to put on? My dress from last night?”

He looks down and is silent.

“You don’t understand,” he says, and the words are flat, final, a slab of stone between us. “You’re just a little girl.”

I feel my face go red, not with embarrassment, but with something hot and wild and a little bit desperate.

“That’s bullshit,” I say. “I do understand, and I’m not a little girl. I wanted it, Trevor. I wanted you.”

He shakes his head, one hand shielding his eyes like he’s exhausted. “You’re young. To you, this is about rainbows and unicorns, with a prince who’ll ride in on a white horse and sweep you into his arms. But life isn’t like that, Kayleigh. Trust me, you’ll get over this. You’ll find someone else. Someone better. Someone who’s not a fucking creep with a fucked up personality and massive issues.”

I push back from the island, the stool scraping hard against the floor. “Wow. You’re really going to walk away after what’s already happened between us.”

He looks me straight in the eye. “I am.”

I throw my hands up.