Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
I wait only a second before Henry answers the door, and it seems our little family dinner earlier in the week did nothing to lessen his apprehension about me. “Not tonight, Noah,” he mutters, pressing his lips into a hard line. “Whatever you did has put her in a mood. She doesn’t want to see you.”
I ignore the way his comments sting but refuse to walk away. “I’m not here for her. I wanted to check on Hazel, make sure she’s okay.”
He studies me for a moment, watching me closely as if trying to work out what kind of angle I’m working, but he won’t find one, not tonight. The moment seems to drag on forever when he finally steps aside and waves me in. “She’s in her room.”
Thank fuck.
Walking in, I turn directly to the right and make my way straight up the stairs, my whole body twitching as I pass Zoey’s room, knowing the other half of my soul is right on the other side of that door. I try to respect her privacy. Her dad said she didn’t want to deal with me, so be it.
Music blasts from her room, and I hear her singing something about it being a cruel summer before screaming at the top of her lungs about some dude looking up grinning like a devil. It takes everything within me to keep walking down the hall, and when I reach Hazel’s door, I lean against the frame, much like I had after our disastrous dinner.
Hazel is curled up on her bed, scrolling on her phone, and she notices me almost immediately. “I was wondering when your big head was going to show up in my doorway,” she mutters, but the insult doesn’t land as her bottom lip juts out.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Hazel refuses to look up, and even without seeing her eyes, I feel the sadness radiating off her, and I can only imagine what kind of nasty bullshit she had to endure. “Are you going to be mad at me?”
“What?” I grunt, pushing off the door frame and striding into her room, bypassing her desk chair piled high with clothes and taking a seat on the end of her bed. “Why the hell would I be mad?”
“Well . . . When the cheerleader was saying those mean things,” she says with a cringe before finally glancing up and meeting my stare. “I lied about you to make her scared.”
My brows furrow, wondering what the hell she could have possibly lied about and hoping that whatever it is doesn’t somehow affect Zoey when she’s at school. “Out with it, kid. What did you say?”
Hazel winces and drops her gaze again. “Well, she called me a desperate whore and a slut because I was wearing your jersey, and so I told her I was your little sister and maybe implied that you were going to be really mad when you found out what she said to me.”
My blood boils beneath the surface, knowing damn well that when I cornered Shannan against the boards of the grandstand, I wasn’t nearly vile enough, but I keep my expression calm and offer Hazel a small smile. “Okay, but where’s the lie in that?”
Her gaze snaps right back to mine, her eyes widening as the sadness seems to evaporate. “I told her you were my brother,” she confirms, just in case I somehow missed that part.
I hold her stare, a challenge in my tone. “Aren’t I?”
She bounds up onto her knees, excitement brimming in her eyes—eyes that are so much like her sister’s. “Really? I mean, like I’ve always thought so. Both you and Linc. But then . . . you know, and we didn’t see you for a really long time, but I thought just because you were mad at Zoey, that maybe you weren’t mad at me. And like . . . ewwwww,” she pauses, horror stretching across her face. “You have the hots for your sister.”
“What?”
“Zoey! I know you’re totally crushing on her. It’s so obvious. Me, Mom, and your mom talk about it all the time. We have bets on when you’ll finally figure out that you can’t live without each other. But like, just so you know, you can’t say that you’re a brother to me and also want to put your tongue down my sister’s throat. Isn’t that like . . . incest?”
“I, uh . . . I don’t even know how to respond to that,” I say, my face scrunched as I try to dig myself out of this hole. “But look, you and me, brother and sister. Me and Zoey . . . definitely not brother and sister.”
A slow grin spreads across her face, and when she meets my eyes, I know exactly what’s about to fly out of her mouth. “Is it because you’re in luuuuurrrrvvvveeeee with her?”