10. Feel Good Drag
FEEL GOOD DRAG
PRESENT
Now I know for damn certain I need alcohol.
Blythe and Sienna’s laughter feels like ice picks stabbing my eardrums, but it’s Jase’s not-so-veiled threat that lingers with me well after he’s returned to the dining room.
Filling up a water glass with Sprite and Vodka, I follow suit, relieved to see Derek and my dad have returned.
Whatever Jase is planning, he wouldn’t be ballsy enough to try and embarrass me with my brother in attendance.
Blythe laughs at something Aria’s mom says, but I’ve apparently walked in too late to get what’s so funny.
My stepmother’s expression shifts, however, as she redirects it to Jase. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you hadn’t eaten in weeks.”
Not only has he finished two plates of spaghetti before anyone else is even done with their first, but Jase is doing nothing to hide the fact that he’s scarfing down the food. Like he really is ravenous.
Lauren looks at her brother with what would best be described as unease, and though Blythe had addressed him, Jase looks up…at me.
And grins.
Red flag.
Red flag!
“Well, my compliments to the chef,” he says simply. “This is incredible.”
Aria’s mom is all too happy to gush about her daughter’s cooking skills, but the girl in question doesn’t seem overly comfortable with the praise. She lets her hair fall into her face as she looks down at her plate, hiding the blush spreading over her cheeks. It’s kind of adorable.
“The hint of chili pepper flakes is a really nice touch,” I say. “What kind did you use?”
Aria looks somewhat taken aback, clearly not expecting the question, but she visibly brightens. “Do you cook too?”
Of course, leave it to Blythe to interject, waving a dismissive hand at me. “Oh, she used to work at an Italian restaurant, but only as a waitress.”
My stepmom obviously doesn’t want me to come off looking semi-capable of anything (or, even worse, make a friend!), so she’s quick to turn her attention back to the problem at hand.
Jase.
“When will you and your mom be returning for the wedding?” she asks far too sweetly. A.k.a. When will I have to start working damage control for the family with you two lepers in town?
“Our mom’s coming in a few days before the ceremony,” Jase manages to say between bites.
“And you?”
If Blythe’s voice is ‘too sweet,’ Jase’s is practically dipped in sugar. “Funny you should ask, I’ve actually been feeling rather nostalgic. I don’t have any plans that can’t be rearranged… I’m thinking maybe I’ll stay in town.”
Given Blythe’s expression that best rivals horror, I’d be tempted to burst out laughing, if I just so happened to completely disregard what he just said.
Surely he can’t be serious.
The way he’s grinning at me, however, would suggest differently.
His sister couldn’t be happier, but Blythe isn’t about to give in that easily. The longer the son of a disgraced congressman is in town, the more likely word will spread that his family is marrying into ours.
“Hotels around here are rather pricey, especially this time of year,” Stepmommy Dearest points out. “And with all the weddings and tourism, most places will likely already be booked.”
In this, she isn’t wrong.
Nothing about Jase’s appearance gives off the impression that he has money.
It’s not like he was ever flashy, but you couldn’t be a member of the Untouchables if your jeans cost anything under four hundred dollars.
Jase’s clothes are clearly distressed, but not in the manufactured way.
They’ve been broken in by good old wear and tear.
He’s not flashing any accessories, and the few glimpses I’ve seen of his phone tell me it’s at least a few years old.
Unless you’re a trust fund baby, you’ll likely need to sell a kidney just to stay at one of the hotels here for a week.
Jase shrugs. “I’ll probably just check into the Deluxe.”
Lauren damn near chokes on the wine she started to swallow, and I can’t blame her. Hell, the whole room goes so quiet you could hear a grain of rice hit the floor.
Despite its name, the Deluxe Motel down by the highway is anything but a luxury.
It’s in the worst place of an already bad area.
To label it a “fleabag” is an insult to literal fleabags.
When Vanessa and I were kids, we were dared to ride down there on our bikes.
And I swear to God, the entire parking lot was covered in used needles, and the rat we saw escaping from the main office was larger than our neighbor’s cat.
Seriously, if you aren’t fully vaccinated from every possible disease to have ever existed, you’ll probably wind up foaming at the mouth by the time you check out…if you actually manage to survive your stay.
Derek and Lauren are quick to offer Jase their place, but he laughs it off, and I can’t necessarily blame him.
My brother and his sister already bought a house they’ll move into after the wedding, but it’s still under construction.
And since Lauren’s lease isn’t up for another few months, they’ve been shacking up in the tiny one-bedroom apartment.
Add in a third party, and there isn’t much room left for oxygen.
Plus, the only place to sleep would be the couch, and I know from personal experience that the walls are notoriously thin.
Jase must have crashed there at some point, because he makes the same observation, making his sister blush and my brother chuckle.
For the first time in my life, I actually side with my stepmom, because I already know what my dad is about to say. Blythe reaches for his hand in warning, but she isn’t fast enough.
“Well, clearly, your sister really wants you here, and we’d all like to get to know more about our new extended family,” says Dad. “You’re more than welcome to stay here.”
Jase makes a face of innocence, but he can’t resist catching my eye for the briefest second. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t want to intrude—”
“Don’t be silly. None of the other relatives have come into town yet, so you can choose any of the guest rooms,” Dad offers before Jase can even finish his weak attempt at an objection.
Is he kidding? My father knows absolutely nothing about this guy. Jase could be a serial killer for all anyone knew! Yet, Dad seems perfectly fine letting this jackass sleep under the same roof as his family.
My stepmom and I glare at him (albeit for very different reasons), but Dad doesn’t notice, all too happy to play host. He’s asking Jase what sports he’s into and if he would like to join him and his friend for a round of golf tomorrow, leaving Blythe to look like she may very well have a heart attack.
All of Dad’s golfing buddies knew Jase’s father before he became persona non grata, and there’s no way in hell they won’t draw the connection when they’re introduced to Jase and hear his last name.
Thankfully for Blythe, Jase admits with a self-deprecating laugh, “The only experience I have on a golf course involves a windmill. Plus, I’ve got to take my bike to the shop and have it looked at.”
My stepmom relaxes, even if only slightly, but I’m still internally screaming.
Because what the hell just happened?
Five minutes ago, my biggest problem was surviving dinner with Sienna, and now Jase Rivers is staying at our house apparently until the wedding, which isn’t until the end of July!
My pulse quickly enters the triple digits and continues to rise as the jackass seated across from me winks—actually winks!
—at me. And, of course, since nobody is sitting to his right, the gesture goes unnoticed by everyone else in the room.
Still, it would be impossible not to notice his grin that quickly enters Grinch territory as the look morphs from playful to shit-eating.
But my luck is about as crappy as you might expect, because the one-sided exchange goes unseen.
His left eyebrow ticks up a notch, the silent expression implicit.
It says, “Game on.”
The only problem: I don’t know the rules or even what game exactly we’re playing.
But I have a feeling I’m about to find out all too well.