But then he moves in and gives me a peck on the cheek. So brotherly. So freaking disappointing. We return to the house, my desire for my stepbrother still burning. With hope wildly growing in my chest, like a spark that refuses to go out, I face the rest of our family.
“June, a moment?” Mom calls out when we get back. I nod and follow her into her room. I have a good relationship with my mother, always have. She’s soft-spoken but strong-minded. She’s the rock of this house.
“Yes?" My mother is facing the window, and I can’t see her face, but I can hear her sigh. “Is something wrong?” She sits on her bed and motions for me to come closer. I join her, but she still refuses to meet my eye. “Is everything okay?” I ask again. I need to know. I can’t take another blow.
“Listen, June,” my mother says softly, her voice caring but stern. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while.” She looks up at me. “Do you have a boyfriend, dear?” I blush violently. Even though we have a good relationship, my mother and I don’t share these kinds of conversations. I think of the boys at college and shake my head. None of them holds my interest. The only one I want is closer to home …
“June,” she continues. “I married your stepfather because I wanted you to have a father. I loved him very much, and the fact that he had a family played a big part in that as well. I wanted you to grow up with siblings,” she says. I nod vigorously and start to speak up, but she silences me with a hand in the air.
“You have to understand we are a family. First and foremost,” she says, now even more serious. My brows furrow, and I look at her questioningly. “I’m talking about your brothers, June.” I look away.
“Exactly.” She sighs. “You still don’t see them as your brothers, do you?”
I don’t answer.
“But that’s what they are, June.” My mother takes my hand, stroking it softly, my fingers shaking again. “They are your brothers, and they love you very much. But they are boys, and you are a girl… A woman. A beautiful one.”
I know where this is headed, and it’s killing me inside.
"Remember our talk in the treehouse?" she asks, and I nod automatically. How could I forget? That conversation has haunted me for years. "My thoughts on the matter are the same, June... But there's something else. You need to remember those boys are twins. Family. June, I don’t want Kade and Parker to fight because of you. Always remember. Family comes first.” With that, she tips my chin up so I’m forced to look at her.
“And Parker and Kade are your brothers. Nothing else. They can never, ever be anything else.”
I nod wordlessly, but Mom isn’t done yet. She squeezes my hand.
“Say it back to me, June. Repeat it.”
“Nothing but brothers,” I repeat robotically.
“Promise, June?”
The lump in my throat grows, and I stare ahead, not willing to give Mom the answer she wants. But she’s relentless. She squeezes my hand again, this time none too gently, and her fingers crush mine.
“Promise,” I lie.
***
3 weeks later
“I mean, he’s such a prick!” Parker exclaims, shaking his head as he laughs, opening a cabinet in the kitchen. He tosses me some Pop-Tarts, and I place them in the microwave, laughing at his office gossip.
“What would you do differently?” I ask him, knowing he’ll bite. He loves giving me his thoughts, and I love seeing him so excited. I sit on the barstool and drink from my glass of wine. Pop-Tarts and wine. Quite the combination. But it feels good. Familiar. Homey.
“Well, I wouldn’t do a shit job like he fucking did, that's for sure,” Parker grins at me, and I laugh, shaking my head.
He takes the Pop-Tarts out of the microwave and sits down next to me, digging in. We haven’t gotten round to cooking actual food yet, and we’re trying to sate ourselves while we wait for another batch of takeout—Indian this time around. We chitchat about the office, and I’m surprised by how fast Parker’s managed to blend in. But then again, I really shouldn’t be as he’s always been a people person. So unlike me… so unlike his twin.
My chest is hit with a hard pang as I think of my Kade. No matter what I do, it still fucking hurts because he