The Wrong Palmer Boy (Love and Grief Duet #1)
Prologue
LUKE
EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD
Call me a self-centered teenager, call me conceited, but when I packed up most of my belongings in the summer a few months ago, I thought I was responsible for the biggest shock that has ever happened to this family since the last one six years ago. I was sure, years from now, when people would talk about this year, they would talk about me and what I’ve done. How I broke the curse.
I mean, how could they not, right? The Palmers aren’t known as a family who makes the good kind of waves, not the Palmers from Kinsdale Springs, anyway, but Lucas Palmer going to college? The son of Vincent Palmer, the tourist bus driver, being offered a full-ride scholarship to the University of Ravensfield? Please excuse my inflated ego, but after being told by one of my high school teachers that I should look into being a professional babysitter since I missed a lot of school during freshman year because Becca got sick a lot, an accomplishment like this is not something that I’m going to be humble about.
Well, I was wrong, because the biggest shock to the Palmer family this year is in the form of a female. Two of them, in fact. What’s more unbelievable than the son from the wrong line of Palmers getting a scholarship? My dad getting remarried.
“Have you met them yet?” my second cousin and best friend, Andrew, asks me.
Sitting on the front porch steps, I nod. “Bianca has been here a few times.” I honestly thought they would fizzle out at some point. That’s usually what happens with most online relationships. She’s from New York, for fuck’s sake . The woman is, in all honesty, pretty nice. But why in the world would she move to a town in the middle of nowhere with a population of ten thousand?
“What about her daughter?”
“She brought her daughter along for the last two.” I sigh, remembering how ridiculously upbeat Bianca’s kid is. Honestly, she might be on drugs or something. Nobody is that happy in life.
“What’s her name again? I forgot.”
“Giuliana.” With a mocking tone, I do my best to imitate her voice, and I say, “ But you can call her Gigi. ”
Andrew chuckles as he shakes his head. “Don’t be an asshole, dude. You call yourself Luke and our brat doesn’t go by Rebecca.” I hate it when he’s right. “I’m the only one that doesn’t have a nickname. I kind of feel left out.”
“Whatever. A little shit is what you are.” He might not be little anymore, but he sure is a piece of shit for being the voice of reason. He’s supposed to be on my side, not play Switzerland. But that’s Andrew for you—always seeing the good in everything. Kind of like Gigi but less annoying.
“Here they come,” he mumbles. His hand slaps my chest as he stands up. “Play nice.”
I follow his gaze, and sure enough, I see my dad’s truck coming toward us. My sister sprints toward the car, almost knocking the breath out of me. The moment the back door opens and a leg slides down, Becca is already jumping up and down.
“Gigi! Gigi!” my seven-year-old sister squeals. “I’m so happy that you’re here!”
It seems like I’m the only one immune to this girl’s charms, because next to me, Andrew is clearing his throat. I groan when I see him adjust the bulge in his pants. Sixteen-year-olds are idiots. Pushing his chest forward, he saunters over to join the crowd. “Here, let me get this for you,” he says to Giuliana. As he slings her backpack over one shoulder, his other hand reaches out for hers. “I’m Andrew Palmer. Lucas and Rebecca’s second cousin.”
I roll my eyes when I hear her answer. “Oh, hi! Thank you. I’m Giuliana, but you can call me Gigi.” She flashes him a smile, and I’ve spent enough time with my cousin to know this much—that dude is a goner.
“Gigi, huh? I like it. We don’t have many Gigis around here.” Another eye roll.
“Are you also from here?” she asks Andrew. They’re coming closer in my direction now, and I know that I have to mingle at some point. Might as well get it over with.
“He lives three towns over,” I answer for him, standing up from my spot. “About one hour by car. Marble Crest.” Since I don’t have a legitimate reason to not like her, aside from the fact that she’s prissy, I give her a curt smile before pulling her into a short hug. “Nice to see you again, Gigi. I hope the flight wasn’t too rough.”
Her gray eyes beam at my words. “Hi, Luke! Thanks for coming back home early. I thought we were only going to meet on Sunday. I’m so glad the three of us can bond before we officially become siblings.” It’s not like I had a choice .
“And me,” Andrew decides to chime in. “I hang out here all the time. I’m practically a bonus kid. Ask Luke.” He looks at me, pleading with his eyes to vouch for him.
“He does,” I confirm, but what I really want to do is smack his head so that the hearts in his eyes go away.
“Good to know, Andrew. We’ll be seeing a lot more of each other, then,” she says, batting her eyelashes. Of course, she’s flirting.
“Here,” he says, giving her his phone. The smile he’s flashing her is making me cringe. “Give me your number. You could probably use a friend. Moving when the school year already started will probably suck. I might not live here, but I can show you around. A couple guys I know live here.”
I’m getting second-hand embarrassment at how fast his crush on my soon-to-be stepsister is developing. The feeling turns into something I can’t make out when I realize that they’re the same age. She’s going to move into my house. I know she doesn’t know it yet, but the reason my dad told me to come back home a day earlier than the wedding is to move my shit out of my room and make space for hers. It’s either that or she’d need to bunk with Becca and her dolls.
Will she take my spot as Andrew’s best friend too? Will they date? He’s certainly gunning for it. And fuck me, but they would actually make sense. The shiny new girl from New York and the golden Palmer boy from the respectable side of the family. I feel it in my bones. I was wrong. Me leaving this dump to better myself is not the catalyst to the Palmers changing. It’s them.