Anti-Stepbrother - Tijan Page 0,64
information online. I can print out an itinerary.”
“You have to reserve tickets ahead of time.”
“Oh.” I glanced down. “Maybe we shouldn’t mention the brunch to Sheila.”
“What brunch?” she called from the doorway.
Too late.
She and my dad had appeared, grocery and Target bags in their arms and on the floor by their feet.
Family Weekend had officially begun.
I welcomed them with open arms, and after the barrage of hugs, Sheila beamed at us. My dad started bringing in the bags, and she said, “Okay, we have a dinner reservation in thirty minutes, but we wanted to come here first and drop everything off.”
Kevin peeked in one of the bags. “Any of this for me?”
She swatted his hand. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Are you going to tell me where you’re living?”
He froze. “What do you mean?”
“I know you’re not in the frat house. I called there one morning for you.”
“Oh.”
Shit.
He didn’t say it, but I heard it.
Sheila wasn’t amused. She crossed her arms over her chest. “So where have you been?”
“Uh…”
“That’s what I thought.” She rested an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in for a side-hug. “At least with this one, I always know she’s safe and not living with some boyfriend she’s not talked to me about.”
Kevin fought a smile.
I coughed and stepped forward, disengaging myself from Sheila. “Traffic can be a bitch. We don’t want to be late for that reservation, do we?”
The reservation was at a trendy restaurant. All the waiters wore pink, as did the hostess who seated us. She also wore a hard-on for Kevin, flirting and smiling coyly at him. When she had to return to her stand, her hand trailed over his shoulder. He glanced back, giving her a secretive smile, which wasn’t that secretive at all. I saw it. She returned it, and when he looked back to the table, his eyes went straight to mine.
“Are you serious?” I asked.
“What?” He picked up his menu.
Sheila glanced between the two of us. “What’s going on?”
I ignored her. “Is it the five-month mark?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know.” I shrugged. “Aren’t you a little early? You still have two more months, don’t you? Maybe my counting is off. When did you move in with Maggie again?”
Sheila sighed. “That’s what I was worried about.”
Kevin glared at me. He spoke around gritted teeth. “Can you shut up, please? This isn’t the time.”
“When is?”
He leaned forward and hissed, “What’s gotten into you?” His eyes narrowed. “Or maybe I should ask who’s gotten into you?”
I picked up my menu. “Oh, right. I forgot how you always go to the sexual innuendos because I happen to be friends with another guy. Friends, Kevin. F-R-I-E-N-D-S. I’m spelling it out because I know it’s unfamiliar. It’s a type of relationship where you don’t screw the other person. Those do exist, you know.”
“Stop it.”
“Or maybe you really don’t. Do you ever hang out with a girl and not plan to get in her pants at some point?”
“I did with you.”
I sucked in my breath.
“We both know how that turned out.”
The fuckhead. I could feel the silence around the table like a two-ton weight. My dad was here. Kevin’s mom was here—the woman who had taken me in and loved me.
That asshole. I jerked forward, ready to deliver a retort when my dad interrupted.
“I think that’s enough from you two.”
“Yes.” Sheila nodded. “What has gotten into you? You never talked to each like this at the house.”
“Because we never talked.”
I kept my mouth shut, but Sheila seemed taken aback by Kevin’s statement.
“What do you mean?”
“Summer and me. We didn’t talk.”
“Because of you,” I added. Yeah, the intention to shut up had been a good one…
He regarded me, sitting back in his chair. I felt like we were squaring off. I was going with it. My blood grew more heated by the second.
“Are you kidding me?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” I asked.
His jaw clenched. “You always look like you’re half joking or half going crazy, so yeah. You kinda do.”
“Kevin Jamison Matthews!” Sheila’s fist came down on the table. “You apologize now to your stepsister.”
He didn’t. He narrowed his eyes and turned to address his mother head-on. “That’s the thing, you never gave me a choice as to whether I wanted a stepsister. I’m assuming she never got a choice about a stepbrother either—or even a stepmother.” He turned to my dad, who’d been sitting stoically. “And no offense, sir, but I never wanted a new dad. I have enough issues with my current one.”
“Get up from this