Chapter 12
NATHAN
Eli squeals when he sees his second sister, Zoe. The siblings are close, and that’s clear in how excitedly they’re chatting among themselves. Even Ava, the always-serious one, has a relaxed smile as she’s talking to her siblings.
I can’t say I’m not jealous of the affection they share with one another. I’ve always wondered how different it’d be to have siblings.
Which is why I’d been excited when Dad married Annie, who had a son my age. In the beginning, I thought we’d be close—best friends, even. Obviously, that never happened.
“Everything okay?” Dad asks when he sees me watching the siblings. “Did anything happen at the cabin?”
It’s unclear if he’s referring to anything happening between Eli and me or at the cabin in general. It’s hard to tell, and Dad’s not the most forthcoming person. At least not with me.
It doesn’t help that we’re not as close as we used to be—when Mom was still alive.
Dad’s grief had sent him running, both mentally and physically.
He drowned himself in work, working long hours and chasing promotions that had us moving every year.
College was the only time I’d stayed at one school longer than a year since elementary school, which meant I had to get really good at making new friends and integrating into groups if I didn’t want to be alone.
I joined sports and spent more time away from home. I think Dad preferred it that way, since it meant he could dive into his work even more.
I know Dad loves me. He never left me wanting for anything besides the affection we used to have with each other before grief had stolen it away from us.
We’re still learning how to make our way back to each other. But so much time has passed, I worry we’re looking for something that’s impossible.
I’m not a kid anymore, and Dad has a new happiness.
“Everything’s okay,” I tell him out of habit. Even if things weren’t okay, I’m used to dealing with it myself.
Dad studies me for a second, his forehead wrinkles deeper now than in my memories. He studies me for a second, then sighs and throws an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s get you inside,” he says.
The others follow us inside as well. Zoe teases Eli about how he’s lost weight. I smirk, since Eli had been so adamant that he hadn’t lost any weight when I pointed it out.
Ava slides up beside me and notices my line of sight before I can turn to her. She smiles in a way that says she knows something I don’t. Like she’s predicting the future of something that has yet to come.
Ava is smart, and I hear she’s a shark in the business world, too. She’s the right-hand woman to one of Corio City’s most prominent families, and you can’t get to a role like that without being extremely capable.
“What are you looking so smug about?” I ask her.
She crosses her arms. “My intuition tells me something happened on your little adventure yesterday,” she says, her smirk never leaving her face.
I’m wondering if she actually has magical powers and knows things she hasn’t seen.
“Eli’s too stubborn for me to get any information out of him, but you’re different. ”
She points her finger at me. She’s smiling sweetly, but there’s a fierceness in her eyes that’s making me sweat. I feel like prey she’s hunting. I wonder if this is what she’s like at work. If so, I can honestly say that even if I tower over her, she’s terrifying.
“I’m not going to tell you anything, because there’s nothing to tell,” I reply, trying to sound casual. I try not to look away from those eyes that are staring hard into my soul, but I’m not successful.
“Hmm,” is all she says, but the smirk that lines her face is triumphant. Thankfully, she doesn’t press and moves on. She asks me about work and gives me some encouragement before I head upstairs to shower and change into something more comfortable.
Eli and the rest of the family are in the living room chatting when I return. It looks like Eli’s washed up, too. He probably used the downstairs bathroom, since I was in the upstairs one.
He’s wearing an oversized T-shirt that absolutely consumes him, and PJ pants with snowflakes printed on them.
The pillow he brought from the house is on his lap.
It’s the same one I’d left behind at the house the last time I went by to drop off something for Dad.
I’d forgotten the pillow in my room, but Annie must have brought it out to the living area when she was cleaning.
I really try not to think about how adorable he looks all cozied up there—with my pillow—but I’m failing massively. It’s hard not to look at him. He laughs at something Ava says, and his face lights up. It damn well glows.
He’s never looked at me like that before, at least not since we’d officially become stepbrothers.
The heavy stab of jealousy surprises me, and I don’t know what to do with that. I ignore it, of course I do, because no good can come from evaluating it.
I walk toward the living room to join them, and that’s when I notice the water dripping onto Eli’s shoulder. There’s already a wet spot there. I frown at seeing how wet his hair is.
He says he can take care of himself, but he doesn’t even know how to dry his hair properly.
It was only yesterday that he was drenched in this weather and almost got hypothermia, and here he is now, being careless again.
Sure, the heat is on in the cabin, but it doesn’t matter when he hasn’t even had time to warm up properly yet.
“Can I talk to you upstairs?” I lean over the couch behind where he’s sitting and ask.
Eli turns around, clearly shocked at seeing me behind him, but he nods. He pushes the pillow from his lap to the seat beside him and follows me. I can feel the rest of the family watching us head upstairs, but I don’t focus on that. I focus on the task at hand.
Eli follows me without saying a word until we enter the bathroom. “What did you want to talk about”—he emphasizes our location with a wave of his hand—“here?”
“Stand here,” I say and gesture to the spot in front of the sink instead of answering him. He raises an eyebrow and doesn’t move until I physically move him to where I want him.
He watches me through the mirror suspiciously. His eyes widen when they see me grab the blow dryer, turn it on, and aim it toward his hair. He suddenly twists around, which leads to a strong blast of air straight into his face. He quick spins back to face the mirror with his eyes shut tight.
I can’t help but chuckle and continue drying his hair. Eli blinks his lids open to shoot me a glare in the reflection, but I’m too busy enjoying the feel of his silky strands through my fingers. Even wet, they’re as soft as I thought they looked.
Eli continues his glaring, or at least he tries to.
His arms are crossed over his chest to show his displeasure, but he can’t hide the way his eyes squint ever so slightly when I thread my fingers through his hair.
His lids eventually close, and his lips tilt up in a way that reminds me of a pleased cat.
He enjoys having his hair played with, and I’m enjoying watching him.
It’s confusing as hell, but taking care of him satisfies something inside of me.
When his hair is sufficiently dry, I turn off the blow dryer. Eli’s studying me through the mirror when I put the dryer away.
“Sometimes I don’t understand you,” he mutters.
“I don’t think you’ve ever understood me,” I reply.
The answer shocks him. I watch his thoughtful expression through the mirror. He spins around again to face him. He leans back on the sink to look up into my eyes.
“Who’s the real you?” he asks softly.
This time, I’m the one surprised by his words. Nobody’s ever asked me that before. Hell, I’ve never considered it before.
I’ve never had to.
I only had to observe my peers around me and imitate them. I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy football, but sometimes it felt like the sport chose me more than I chose it. It was a way to surround myself with people, to be part of a team that’s supposed to have my back.
Football took over my time during my secondary-school education, but it wasn’t my life like it was for some of my teammates. I wasn’t devastated when I stopped playing in college like they were. I never found anything else I enjoyed. Now, I’m just drifting, with work consuming my life.
I follow my boss’ orders. Run when they tell me, bark if they need me to.
I’ve turned from a chameleon to a robot.
“I…I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
Eli must see something on my face—panic, perhaps?—because his expression softens. He places a hand on my shoulder. It’s the first time he’s voluntarily touched me, so I’m at a loss on how to react. Before I can gather my bearings, he does something that leaves my mind blank.
He leans forward, goes on his tiptoes, and kisses me.
The light press of his lips is soft and tickles my insides. This is far from my first kiss, but it is the first time I’m kissing a guy.
I’m not gay. I shouldn’t be gay. And Eli’s my stepbrother, so I really shouldn’t want to or like kissing him. And yet, I find myself pulling him against me so I can get a deeper taste of him.