Second Chance Stepbrother(25)
“Pau, I hate to do this, when the summer has gone so well, but I just… I have to say this.”
Oh god. Here it comes. My stomach turns to ice, my veins pumping that freezing cold nitrogen throughout my body. He knows.
“I did something. The summer we stayed here last. I think it might be why… Why Susan and Josh didn’t talk to us for a long time.”
I blink. Stare at him. Gape, actually, is a better term. “What?”
“I just, it seemed like you and Josh were getting very close back then, and I knew that they were going to be moving away. Plus you’ve always been impulsive and quick to care about people—and that’s a great thing, Pau, it really is, but it can lead to getting easily hurt, so I… I wanted to avoid that if possible.”
I cross my arms, slowly. “What did you do, Dad?”
“I told Josh to stay away from you.”
I can feel myself standing, though I’m not really aware of it. “You did what?”
“You had so much going on, Pau—your art, college applications, deciding where you wanted to go and what you wanted to do. If you got knocked up by some kid who was about to move a few hundred miles away, what would happen then?”
“Knocked up? You think I’m that irresponsible?”
“You were so young—”
“That doesn’t make it okay for you to meddle like that!”
“I know, Paulina, and I’m sorry. I just wanted to come clean and tell you so that you understand where I’m coming from and why…” He closes his eyes, shakes his head. “Why Josh seems a little strange sometimes. I’m going to talk to him too, apologize. Obviously I overstepped where you two were concerned anyway.”
I storm away from him, not dignifying that with a response.
“I’m sorry, Pau,” Dad calls after me. But I’m not ready to talk to him yet. No. I need to find Josh first.
It doesn’t take me long to find him. He’s out behind the woodshed, shirt tied around his waist, sweat glistening along his abs as he lifts the axe to chop another block of firewood. For a second, I pause just to watch him work and savor the way the sun glistens off his muscles, highlights every inch of his glorious body.
Then I step into his line of sight, and he sets the axe aside, eying me with a cold, sideways stare. He runs a hand through his hair, and I try not to let that distract me either, because damn, even that simple motion drives me crazy. Makes me want to tackle him right here and kiss that pout off his stupid lips, run my hands over his hard pecs…
“Are you talking to me again?” he asks, and I swallow my crazy lusty impulses.
“I’m sorry.” I step closer. “I shouldn’t have been avoiding you. I shouldn’t be running. You’re right.”
His eyebrows rise. “That may be the first time I’ve ever heard you say that.”
I roll my eyes. “Josh. I’m being serious here.”
He steps closer to me, too. “Serious about what, exactly, Pau?”
I swallow hard. Lick my lips. “About us. Josh, I…”
He just waits me out in silence, eyes on me, red-hot, but compelling me. I want to tell him the truth. The whole truth and nothing but.
I have to.
“I know what my dad said to you. All those years ago.”
He grimaces, but nods.
“I’m sorry he did that. And I’m sorry you felt you had to listen. And… I’m also sorry that I got scared. By this, by us, by how much I feel for you. It freaked me out, especially given… Given everything. This whole situation. But it doesn’t change how I feel. It doesn’t change what I want. And I want to be with you.”
A throat clears sharply. But it’s not Josh’s.
Josh realizes first. His eyes widen, and his mouth goes slack. I whip around, follow the direction he’s looking, over my shoulder.
Behind me, carrying a tray laden with three more glasses of lemonade, stands Susan.
To judge by the shocked expression on her face—a mirror image of Josh’s face right now, the resemblance between them starkly visible for once—she heard everything I just said.
“I…” I wince. “Susan, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Paulina,” she interrupts. I stammer to a halt. What else can I say? How can I explain that away?
“We were practicing for a, um… a play, and…”
“Are you in love with my son?” Susan asks, point-blank.
I can’t lie. I can’t tell the truth. So I just stare at her. Force my mouth to open. I have to say it. I think back to my conversation with Dad. To my own advice. The truth is better. Even if it’s awkward.
But before I can answer, Josh speaks up. “Whatever she might feel, Mom, I’m the one who…” He straightens his shoulders. Looks at me. “I love Paulina.”
Now it’s my turn to gape at him, open-mouthed. Even so, despite the situation, the awkwardness of it, all the ways this could go wrong, I can’t deny that hearing those words sets off fireworks in my belly. He loves me.
When I turn back to Susan, she’s still holding the lemonade tray in one hand, though the glasses are all rattling, because her other hand is pressed to her mouth. I dart forward to grab the tray, but I bump it in the process, and there’s a deafening crash as the glasses shatter on the ground, spraying my sandaled feet with lemonade.