9. Josh
JOSH
Then
I wasn’t feeling particularly in the mood to party.
Nothing sounded better than calling in for some takeout and watching the newest episode of The Walking Dead with Dove.
Which was exactly the reason why I suggested we invite some friends over tonight instead, because I wanted to be alone with her too much.
I wanted to sit beside her on the couch, arms brushing as we ate pizza, sharing a blanket that Dove would inevitably use to cover her eyes when the zombies came on screen.
I was Dove’s stepbrother . Since the day I’d met her, I vowed to make her happy, to protect her and keep her safe.
Even if that meant from me.
I wanted more than I was allowed to have, and so I created boundaries and distance where there didn’t use to be.
Dove could tell. Maybe not why, but she could tell. She was smarter than anyone gave her credit for, most mistaking her often quiet, acquiescing nature for a demure demeanor, but no one knew the spitfire underneath quite like I did.
Believe me, I’d been at the end of her rage quite a few times. Through the years, plenty of toes have been stepped on between all of us. It kind of came with the territory when you called a farm home. We spent a lot of time together, working closely to make sure everything ran smoothly.
Which was how I knew my brotherly feelings had shifted—if they’d ever been brotherly at all. Because when she hugged me, I itched to wrap my arms tight around her and linger. When she kissed my cheek, I wanted to nudge my head to the side so her lips landed on mine instead.
Dove had been awkward and shy when I’d first met her, on the precipice of teenage years, but now, at sixteen? I had the glimpse of what a beautiful woman Dove was going to become, how beautiful she already was .
Her dark hair was long, lying past her shoulders in bouncy waves, with radiant tanned skin to match, gifted by the sun after hours of outdoor work. Full lips, such a reddish pink they reminded me of ripe watermelon. I wondered if they tasted just as sweet?—
I had to physically shake my head to dislodge that line of thinking, then continued loading cases of beer into the back of my truck far more aggressively than I should have. I’d have to warn whoever wanted Budweiser tonight to crack it open slowly—unless they wanted a beer shower.
My thoughts surrounding Dove lately were intrusive and distracting.
I tried everything I could to get them to stop.
When school let out, I made sure to stay busy on the farm, taking on extra chores that directed me away from Dove, hoping she wouldn’t end up following.
As much as her presence haunted me, I didn’t have the heart to shoo her away.
Not when her eyes lit up when she looked at me, and her mouth crooked into a pleased smile, like she was happy just to be around me.
The sadness that had once lingered in her eyes like a shadow was nothing more than a memory now. She was happy. She deserved to be happy. I didn’t want to damage that.
I also didn’t want to damage what we had, either.
But the thoughts and feelings that had started to consume me…
They would.
So when the weekend approached and Dove asked me what we’d be doing for “Feast Friday” as we called it, I suggested something else.
A party, instead, down by the lake.
With food and booze—considering our parents were gone, the opportunity was too great to pass up—and more importantly, other people.
Hearing the familiar shuffling steps approach in the gravel behind me had my back tensing, and I set the case of beer in my hands down hard enough to rattle the bottles inside.
“Remind me again why you wanted to throw a party?” Dove asked, her voice carrying the edge of a whine.
I forced my muscles to relax and bent down to grab another case of beer Mitch, the neighboring farm’s oldest son, had dropped off.
He wasn’t the partying type, but he was the only one I knew who was old enough to buy beer—and would do it for a favor and a twenty thrown in.
All I had to do was help him with his truck next week. An easy trade.
I shrugged causally in response to Dove’s question and heaved the last of the beer into the bed of the truck.
“You were practically on the edge of your seat last week with that cliffhanger,” Dove protested. “Don’t you want to see what happens?”
I wanted nothing more than to sit down with a greasy slice of pizza and immerse myself in the post-apocalyptic zombie happenings of Rick Grimes’s group.
But I couldn’t. Not when my skin felt stretched tight at Dove’s nearness, and even standing a few feet away, the smell of her shampoo made my mouth water.
“We can record it,” I volleyed back, hitching the tailgate up with a slam. When I turned, Dove’s hip was cocked, arms crossed, eyebrow raised, assessing me.
“Maybe I don’t want to party tonight,” she insinuated haughtily. So there! might as well have been tacked on to the end of her sentence.
I shrugged again, breezing past her.
Goddamn whatever they put in that strawberry-scented shampoo she used. It made me want to lean down and take a bite out of her. My shoulders hunched at the thought, and I dug my nails into the meat of my palms, letting the sting ground me.
Shouldn’t be thinking those kinds of thoughts, I chastised myself.
“Then don’t come.” The moment the words left my mouth I knew they sounded harsher than I’d intended.
Fuck, I didn’t want to take my frustrations out on Dove. It wasn’t her fault I was having these sick thoughts. That I was broken and wrong .
“Josh,” her voice called, hurt, stopping me in my tracks.
I opened my mouth to apologize but she sighed, a deep exhale through her nose, and asked, “What do we need for tonight?” Her voice held a tight, resigned note to it, like she’d realized it was either a party at the lake with a group of us or a night spent alone. “Is there anything I can do?”
I hated that I was only giving her two choices, neither of which she preferred.
When I turned to face her, she stepped cautiously toward me until I could reach out and throw an arm around her shoulders, tugging her tight to my side. I breathed in the delicious scent of her and tried to think brotherly thoughts.
“Just bring yourself,” I told her gently, holding back from pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “And make sure you’re ready to have fun.”
Her hand skimmed low across my stomach as she hugged my waist.
My teeth sunk into the flesh of my cheek until the metallic tang of blood hit my tongue, the bright blight of pain sobering me.
“I always have fun when I’m with you,” she muttered into my side, her voice the embodiment of sunshine with its warmth.
I repeated that sentence to myself as we headed to the house, reminding myself just who I was to her.
All I could ever be to her.
The ice in the coolers had long since melted, making the contents inside lukewarm at best. I was a handful of beers deep, riding the buzz enough not to give a shit if the can in my hand wasn’t cold or if I had a ridiculous crush on my stepsister.
I sighed, taking another swig of cheap booze.
Maybe not buzzed enough.
But I refused to get drunk, not while Dove was here, and not while everyone was on my dad’s property—if something went wrong, he’d likely murder me for underage drinking.
I frowned. At least he’d care, though. At least it would be something other than bland indifference to me.
My next swig was met with only the remnants of half a sip. Somehow my beer was empty… I could have sworn I just opened it.
“I don’t think it’s good manners to be antisocial at your own party,” Dove’s voice piped up from my left, just loud enough to be heard over the country music playing from someone’s truck speakers nearby.
My eyes slid over to her, taking in her appearance. She was one of the only girls not dressed up, opting for plain dark wash jean shorts and a simple black tank top. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and she nursed a Coke in her hands.
Not drinking, then. Good girl .
My frown deepened, and I dropped my empty beer to the ground, flattening the can with the heel of my boot. I imagined it as the thought I just had and put a little extra force into it.
“Not going to slam it against your forehead like the rest of your pals?” Dove teased.
“I don’t need to prove I have a thick skull,” I replied, my voice deepening into something a little too playful. “You know I already do.”
She laughed, her head tilting back, and the tendrils of hair that had escaped her bun framed her round face and danced across her cheeks from the warm breeze coming off the lake. The glow of the lamps we’d strung up for light illuminated in her blue eyes like flickering fireflies.
She was breathtaking.
“You’re right about that,” she agreed once her laughter died down, hiding her amused grin behind her soda as she took a sip.
It always felt good to be the one putting a smile on her face.
I glanced away, not wanting to be caught staring. I wanted another beer, if only to have something to do with my hands, but I needed to pace myself. The night was young, and all that. Plus, I didn’t want to leave Dove’s side, not when she’d sought me out.
Reverie Price, Dove’s best friend, had come over to ours earlier to get ready with her, and they’d been glued to each other’s sides all night.
That is, until the youngest of the Gallardo brothers had shown up.
Reverie had been lusting after Ezekiel all summer.
I imagined it was the reason Dove was at my side right now; Rev was too busy hanging off Zeke to pay her any mind.
There were a few other girls Dove knew here tonight, but none she was as close to as Reverie.
Dove could be a bit of a wallflower, and I knew the longer this party went on, the more she’d crave being back at the house curled up in her bed.
A tiny spark of something bloomed in my chest, knowing she was sticking it out for me.