Ten

Will

When you’ve lived out west your whole life, being on the East Coast is kind of surreal. They’re like two completely different worlds. Generally speaking, people from the west are more casual, more laid back than our eastern counterparts, even in the cities. It had definitely been a culture shock when I’d gone from California to Virginia my freshman year at Wheston. But New England felt even more uptight than Virginia did. Maybe it was the really cold air. Might be hard to be laid back when you’re freezing your ass off.

Still New England was pretty, all blanketed in snow and the occasional flickering of white Christmas lights off in the distance.

I followed Ashton’s directions down a tree-lined road and I’m pretty sure my eyes almost popped out of my head when her dad’s house came into view. It was the only house on the street and the place was huge, mansion-size huge. A Colonial that seemed to stretch on forever. I didn’t even want to think about what a comparable sized home and lot would cost in Southern California. “This is where you grew up?”

Ashton shrugged. “I was with Mom mostly, in the old house. Dad built this one when he was pissed that Mom got the house in the settlement.”

“Your mom’s is smaller, right?” I mean it had to be. If it was bigger it would need its own zip code.

She tipped her head to the side and looked at me. “Lots of places for us to hide from everyone else.”

An enormous house wasn’t so bad when you thought about it like that. I grinned at her. “I’ll hold you to that.”

An intimidating middle-aged guy with graying hair stepped out onto the front porch as I turned off the ignition. Her dad, it had to be. And I swallowed nervously.

Ashton hopped out of the car and waved. “Hi, Dad.”

“Did you tell your mother you were going over there to see your grandmother?”

She shrugged slightly. “Mom said Nana was there and wanted to see me.”

Her father folded his arms across his chest. “You told me you’d be here in time for dinner.”

“We are!” she said, starting toward the porch.

“So where does your grandmother fit into this, Ashton? She’s an old woman. She’s goes to bed at seven o’clock.”

“I’ll just call Mom and tell her that I’ll see Nana tomorrow.”

These were the fun things I missed having just one parent, hmm?

“I think that’s a wise plan,” her father said. And then he turned his attention on me. He sized me up and I had a feeling I came up short.

“Hi,” I said, shutting the car door.

“You’re not Braden,” he told me, as though I might have thought I was. “You’re some other kid.”

“He’s not a kid, Dad,” Ashton said, reaching her father and pressing up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “He’s Will and he drove me all the way from Virginia since Braden didn’t come. So be nice.”

At least it wasn’t a lie. “Will Parke,” I gestured to myself. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Sommers.” And I really prayed he couldn’t tell I was sleeping with his daughter. The man didn’t seem like he was in the best mood. Or maybe that’s just how he was all the time. Either way, I didn’t think we were going to hit it off.

Mr. Sommers opened the door to the house and called, “Christopher! Come help your sister with her luggage.”

But she only had a small bag, just like I did. I could’ve easily gotten both. My small bag. Shit. I had clothes. I had clothes for LA. But I had not packed for two weeks in Connecticut. Why had that not occurred to me until just that moment? Probably because Ashton had been next to me for the last 48 hours and she could distract me like nothing else. Shit. There wasn’t anything else important I’d forgotten, was there?

A minute later, a lanky guy a little older than Ashton ambled out onto the porch. He had red hair like hers, but a couple shades darker. “Princess Ashypoo finally made it, huh?”

She looked at me out of the corner of her eyes. “Really, Chris?”

But her brother only laughed. Then he started for my car. “Did you bring like ten suitcases this time?”

“I brought one carryon,” she called after him. “I was supposed to fly.”

He stopped halfway to my car and looked back over his shoulder at her. “Just one carryon? Who are you and what you have done with Ashypoo?”

“Say it one more time, Christopher,” she grumbled.

He turned back toward me and lifted out his hand with a big smile. “Chris Sommers. And you’re not Braden Campbell.”

Not even on my worst day. “Will Parke,” I said, shaking his hand and then nodded to my trunk. “But really, man, there’s not much here. I can get it.”

“You’ve been stuck in a car with her for two days? I’ll get it. You’ve suffered enough.”

“You know,” Ashton called from the porch, “I did not miss you even a little bit, Chris.”

He laughed again as he lifted her floral carryon out of the trunk. Then he glanced over at me and frowned a little. “Will Parke?”

I nodded.

“Why does that sound familiar? Should I know you?”

There wasn’t any reason he should. I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

He shrugged and then led me to the front door.

Mr. Sommers looked me over again, and I was pretty sure he could tell I’d had sex with his daughter. Thank God the guy didn’t own any guns. I was pretty relieved Ashton had told me that. “Dinner’s in fifteen minutes,” he said to his son. “Get him settled in.”

Ashton’s brother led the way, into the house. And she fell into place beside me.

“Guess what,” I muttered to her.

“What?”

“I packed for California, not Connecticut.”

She sucked in a breath, stopped and looked up at me, her pretty face marred with worry. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah.” My thoughts exactly. Luckily, I had my coat with me, since we’d driven from school, which was a good thing. And I had some jeans. But nothing else was going to work.

“What do you need?” her brother asked, looking back over his shoulder at us.

“I’ve got jeans. But everything else is for Southern California.”

Chris Sommers shook his head. “I got a millions shirts and sweaters. You’re welcome to whatever you need.”

“Yeah?” I asked.

Then he smirked at his sister. “Least I can do after you drove Princess Ashypoo all the way home.”

“That’s it!” She heaved and then she took off after her brother who was pretty quick even though he was carrying her bag. Of course, he did have a head start on her. She must have caught him though. They turned a corner and he yelped a second later.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it, but I felt uneasy all of a sudden. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Mr. Sommers looking at me and I swallowed my laugh. It was going to be a long two weeks if that guy was going to look at me like that the whole time.

I followed in the direction where Ashton and her brother had disappeared a minute before and found her standing in the hallway, looking at her hand. “Asshole made me break a fingernail.”

I bit back a grin. “You didn’t have to hit him,” I said. “Simple assault could get you up to a year in jail, depending on the state.”

“No jury would convict me.” She lifted out her hand. “Look at this.”

“Poor Princess Ashypoo,” I teased.

Her blue eyes flashed with irritation. “Will Parke, I will hurt you. And if you even think about tweeting that—”

“More threats, Ash? I thought we were past that.”

“Call me that again and see what happens.”

I did laugh then. Her cheeks were pink and she was so pretty like that. “Why do you hate it so much?”

She looked at me like I was crazy. “Would you want to be called Princess Ashypoo your whole life?”

I shrugged. “Be kinda weird since my name is Will.”

Ashton rolled her eyes. “It’s awful. And he knows I hate it. And he called me that in front of you just to embarrass me.”

“Probably why he did it,” I agreed. I didn’t have brothers, but my older cousins had done a fair amount of teasing me when I was a kid.

“I didn’t mind it when Dad called me that.” She shrugged. “Of course I was three back then.”

Speaking of her dad. I looked over my shoulder to make sure Mr. Sommers hadn’t followed me. “I’m pretty sure your dad hates me, by the way.”

Ashton

That was a distinct possibility, but I shook my head. “Dad hates everyone,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re sure, absolutely a hundred percent certain, he doesn’t own any guns, right?”

I laughed and tugged him into my old room. “I won’t let him kill you.” Then I pushed up onto my toes and pressed my lips to his. It had been less than an hour since I’d kissed him, but that felt like a lifetime.

Will dropped his suitcase to the floor and drew me closer to him. He squeezed my ass, and moaned against my lips which reverberated through me and made heat pool deep in my core.

And then a tiny little “meow” from behind me, had me pushing Will away as I spun around. I smiled at the precious little ball of white fluff, lying in the middle of my bed.

“Serephina! I missed you, my little sweetheart!” I gushed, picking my cat up and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She started purring instantly.

“Serephina?” Will echoed.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” I lifted her out for him to see.

“Wow, blue eyes.”

She did have the prettiest blue eyes. “And Monet should be around here somewhere.”

“Monet?”

“They’re sisters,” I explained. “Born here in the garage. Their mom was a stray.”

Will looked a little uncomfortable, but he scratched Serephina behind the ears anyway. “She’s pretty.”

“Monet follows Chris everywhere. But Serephina is mine.”

“She’s yours?” That devilish twinkle was back in Will’s eyes. “So now I have to share you with your family and Serephina?”

I grinned and teased, “Well—” I kissed the top of my cat’s head as I placed her back on my bed “—I have known her longer, and she’s never tweeted stuff about me for the world to read.”

A wicked smile lit his lips as he grabbed my waist in his hands. “If your father wasn’t just down the hallway…” he said, his voice so low and rumbly that tingles raced across my skin.

“What would you do?” I asked, turning in his arms as my heart pounded, waiting for his response.

Will leaned in close and whispered, “Take my time tasting your pussy again.”

My breath hitched at his suggestion as the memory of him doing just that last night washed over me. What I wouldn’t give to be back in that hotel right now. “God, Will,” I breathed out. “I want you.”

“I want you too.” He lowered his head and brushed his lips against mine again.

“Hey, I’ve got some sweaters you can borr—ow,” Chris said from the doorway. And then he whistled. “So this is why Braden’s not here, huh?”

“Shit,” I whispered as Will’s arms dropped from around my waist. It would have to be Chris. Matt wouldn’t care one way or the other. Then I turned to face my most obnoxious brother. “It’s not what you think, ok.”

“What do I think?” he asked, leaning against my doorframe.

Actually, I had no idea what he thought. He probably didn’t even care other than the fact that this gave him more fodder to use against me. “Braden and I broke up and—”

“Because of Mr. California over here?” He sounded so amused, I just wanted to slug him.

“Will and I didn’t even know each other then.”

Will coughed.

“Ok, we knew each other,” I amended. It wasn’t really even a lie. He didn’t have to cough like it was. “But we weren’t friends. I don’t think we’d even said more than two words to each other. He’s not the reason Braden and I broke up, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Yeah, I don’t really care.” Chris shrugged. “But if you’re going to make out or rip each other’s clothes off, just shut the door, ok? That I do not need to see.” Then he nodded at Will. “You wanna take a look at the sweaters I got for you?”

“Yeah,” Will replied. “Thanks.” Then he looked down at me with an expression that basically said he’d been right. That there was no reason to keep anything from my family. But Chris wasn’t my family…Well, he was my brother, but he wasn’t Mom and he wasn’t Dad. And nobody cared what Chris thought about anything anyway.

“Chris!” I called as they started from my room. “You’re not going to say anything to Dad, right?”

My brother looked back over his shoulder and shook his head. “Dad won’t care. It’s Mom you’ll have to worry about.”

Will

“You don’t think your mom will like me?” I asked, following Ashton’s brother down the hallway. Her dad, clearly didn’t like me. It would be nice if one of her parents did.

He shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll like you fine.” He gestured me into a bedroom a few doors down. “But unless your father is Preston Campbell, she’s not going to be happy about the whole thing.”

Braden’s father? “Preston Campbell?”

“He runs a large management firm in Atlanta. Lots of capital. Mom was hoping to get him on board to help sponsor her school music foundation in Georgia.”

Oh. Well, Ashton shouldn’t have to put up with Braden just because her mom wanted to use her connections. That was just weird. Ashton’s life was her own.

Chris opened a chest at the foot of his bed. “Ton of sweaters in here. Take whatever you need. I got some shirts in the closet too.”

A black and white cat came out from under the bed and rubbed up against Chris’s leg.

“Monet?” I asked.

“Sweetest little fleabag in the world.” He nodded and bent over to scratch the cat behind her ears.

Fleas? “They don’t really have fleas, right?”

Chris laughed. “Just a term of endearment.” Then he frowned slightly. “You don’t have pets, huh?”

Was it that easy to spot? I shook my head. “My mom never liked animals. I didn’t grow up with ‘em.” And my aunt was allergic and my cousin Josh had been bit by a neighbor’s Rottweiler when I was a kid, so I pretty much just stayed away from all animals just on principle. “Find them too unpredictable for me.”

“Yeah? Then Monet will love you. She hates it when people make eye contact, and if you avoid looking at her, as soon as you sit down, she’s in your lap.”

Really? I looked directly at the black and white cat, and sure enough she scurried right back under Chris’s bed.

“Maybe not now.” He laughed again. Then he gestured to the chest. “Anyway take whatever you need.”

“You’re a life saver.” I said, grabbing a gray cardigan from the top of the chest.

“No problem. If I ever end up in California without swim trunks, you can hook me up.”

“Deal,” I agreed.

“Dinner!” Mr. Sommers called from somewhere in the house.

“Oh and—” Chris pointed to his right “—Guest room is right next to me over here. Not, you know, my sister’s room.”

Not that I was planning on staying with Ashton, but his point was clear. And he had just walked in on the two of us in her room. “Yeah.” I nodded. “No problem.”

Ashton

I took Will’s suitcase from my bedroom down to the guest room and bumped into him and my brother in the hallway. “Dad said dinner’s ready,” I said.

“Yeah, I heard him.” Chris frowned. “Half-tempted to pretend I’m sick and skip it.”

“Why?” Gianna wasn’t insisting on an all-vegan meal again, was she? I thought Dad had put a stop to that.

“Dad’s pissed at Matt and…”

“He’s taking his wrath out on everyone else?” I guessed.

“You’ll get a pass, Princess. He’s been waiting two days to see you.”

Will visibly tensed. But it wasn’t like Dad was going torture him like he would Chris. “Don’t call me that,” I said.

A ghost of a smile lit my brother’s lips. “You’ve been gone for months. I’ve gotta get my teasing quota in before you leave, Prince—”

“I will hit you again.” I lifted my hand up, the one with the broken nail on my index finger.

He rolled his eyes in response to that.

“Hey,” I whispered, leaning in closer to my brother. “Gianna’s not…”

He squinted at me. “Not insane? Not a gold digger? Not—”

“Pregnant.” Because she was definitely insane and definitely a gold digger.

Chris took a step back from me. “God, I hope not. Why would you think that?”

I shrugged. “Something Dad said last week about me not being the baby of the family or something.”

My brother looked like he might be sick at hearing that. “She has been moody. Threw a crystal vase at Dad’s head last night.”

Will’s mouth dropped open.

“Who hasn’t wanted to do that before?” I muttered.

Will turned his attention on me and I shrugged again. I mean, Dad kind of had that effect on a lot of people.

“Just being honest,” I said. Then I frowned at my brother. “You have to come to dinner.”

“I really don’t.”

“He’ll just focus on me and scrutinize Will if you don’t.”

“You want him to berate me instead?”

Dad probably would do that. Especially if he was mad at Matt about something. “Well, it’s not fair to make Will uncomfortable. I mean, he already had to spend two days with me in the car,” I echoed his earlier, not so complimentary, words back at him.

“Yeah, seemed like that was a real torture for him.” Chris looked from me to Will and back. A little smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “All right, if I come to dinner, you’ll owe me.”

“Ok, I’ll owe you.” God forbid he just do something nice for me. Just to, you know, be nice.

The three of us made our way to the dining room and Gianna was pouring a glass of wine at Dad’s spot at the head of the table, her long dark hair draped around one shoulder. I couldn’t help but look at her with a critical eye.

“Wine, Christopher?” she asked, looking up at my brother.

“Oh, I think we’ll need it free flowing tonight,” he replied as he dropped into a seat at the other end of the table.

“Hi Ashton,” Gianna said. “You have a safe trip?”

It was eventful, but safe. So I nodded. “Yeah, Will took care of me.”

Chris coughed. . I hated that he knew about Will and me. My brother would torture me with that information the rest of the time I was home.

I glared at Chris before I gestured to Will and introduced him to my dad’s wife. Then I slid into the seat at the table beside my dad’s place.

Gianna is younger than my brother Matt, and I refuse to call her my stepmother. I hadn’t called Natalia my stepmother either, wife number three. I had called Beth my stepmom, wife number two. But I’d been really young and that was back in the days before I realized my dad was a serial groom and I’d probably have a dozen stepmothers before he finally keeled up and died. I really hoped Gianna wasn’t pregnant. Not because I wanted to be the baby of the family for the rest of my life; but at least I’d been seven when my parents had divorced. Seven years with both my mom and my dad. And any new baby that came into the world wouldn’t get that. The longest marriage Dad had enjoyed after his divorce from Mom lasted four years. Dad and Gianna were on year two, and that’s usually about the time he started cheating on his wife, whoever she happened to be at moment.

Gianna didn’t look pregnant. She didn’t look nauseous or bloated or green or even “glowing.” She just looked like Gianna, the underwear model that Dad had met in the city a couple years ago. And then she poured a nice, full glass of wine for herself. Huh. Did that mean she wasn’t pregnant? Or just that she’d be worst possible mother a kid could ask for?

Will took the spot between Chris and me just as Dad stepped into the dining room. “Good, you’re all here.”

Well, not all of us. I glanced at the open spot at the table across of Will, the one Matt would normally have taken…Actually, Matt would normally sit where Chris was. What had happened with Matt? Chris hadn’t said. I probably should have asked. But I wasn’t going to ask right now. I was not in a hurry to get my head bitten off.

“So, Will,” Dad said as he sat at his place at the head of the table. “Your parents aren’t going to miss you for Christmas?”

“Dad,” I muttered under my breath.

“I think it’s a valid question, Ashton.” Then he gestured to the food at the table. “Just take what’s in front of you and pass it down.”

I reached for the steamed vegetables in front of me. “You don’t have to put him right on the spot, first thing.”

Dad served himself a pork chop and passed the platter to me as I handed Will the vegetables.

“It’s not a big deal,” Will said. “My family’s not very close.”

Dad nodded as he added some baked apples to his plate. “What does your dad do?”

“Dad,” I hissed. Did he have to ask that question?

“What?” He looked at me like I was nuts.

But what was his response going to be when Always-Honest-Will told him he was sperm bank baby? I really didn’t want to find out. I shot Will a pleading glance.

“I’ve never met my father,” he said. “I know he got an engineering degree from MIT, so he’s probably doing something with that.”

MIT? Will hadn’t mentioned that part before. But he wasn’t lying. He wouldn’t do that. Engineering. Was that why he was in engineering? Was it in his genes? Did he ever wonder about that? Did he ever wonder at all about his biological father? Did anyone else know about his father? Had he told anyone else? Or just me?

“I cannot understand men who don’t take their responsibilities as fathers seriously,” Dad grumbled. “It was no picnic dealing with your mother all these years, but I would never turn my back on my children.”

The last thing I wanted was for Will to correct my Dad’s assumption that his father had just walked out on him and his mom. So I looked across the table at my brother and said, “Mom says you’re getting a teaching license?”

“Yeah.” Chris nodded as he dropped his cell to the table.

“Is that a phone at my table, Christopher?” Dad barked.

He shrugged. “Someone mentioned me on Twitter. I was just seeing what they said.” And then his eyes lit up as he looked at Will and me. “Hey did you guys hear about that breakup thing at Wheston this week?”

Was he fucking serious? I’m pretty sure all the color drained from my face.

“It was all over the place,” Will muttered, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

“Holy shit!” Chris’s mouth fell open. “I knew I knew you. You’re Will Parke. You’re TheoryOfBecause. Dude, that shit was amazing. I’m following you.”

My asshole brother was one of Will’s new fifteen thousand followers. I thought I might be sick.

“What are you talking about?” Dad grumbled.

Chris was only too happy to tell him. “So poor Will here is in a coffee shop and this couple next to him starts arguing and he live tweeted their whole breakup. The feed went viral. And—” He looked back at Will. “Man, they’ve been trying to interview you all over the place.”

Dad frowned in Will’s direction, like he thought live tweeting someone’s breakup was a shitty thing to do. Dad might be the only person in the world on my side in this. Well, and Braden’s.

Will shook his head. “There’s nothing else really to say. If I’d known anyone would’ve cared about those tweets, I probably wouldn’t have even posted them.”

“Only probably?” I muttered. After knowing what I’d gone through, I’d have really hoped it wouldn’t just be probably.

And then my asshole brother’s eyes widened again. Shit. He hadn’t just figured me out, had he? He hadn’t put the pieces together that I was one half of the #whestonbreakup couple, had he? Shit. I should have just kept my mouth closed. Before he could even think to ask me about that, I said, “So what’s with this teaching license thing? Someone going to hire you to instruct people how to roll a better joint or something? Or how to pick munchies with fewer carbs?”

“Ha. Ha.” Chris rolled his eyes. “I’m thinking about teaching a semester at Baxter, if you must know.”

“Baxter?” Dad barked. “Why the hell would you want to do that?”

Chris frowned. “To give back, Dad. I wouldn’t be where I am without Baxter.”

“You mean living in my house and doing nothing to support yourself?”

“I sold a painting last week.”

“Uh-huh.” Dad wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Is this Baxter thing your mother’s idea?”

“Believe it or not, Dad, I can have ideas all on my own.”

“Not any good ones.”

Chris sucked in a breath. “You mean like not even batting an eye when my pregnant wife downs an entire bottle of wine all on her own?” And he shot a pointed glare in Gianna’s direction.

Shit. I’d wanted to get the heat off Will and me, but I hadn’t wanted to start World War III in the middle of dinner.

Dad turned his glare to Gianna. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“What?” She nearly sputtered a mouthful of wine across the table. “No.”

“Well, Christopher seems fairly certain you’re pregnant. You want to explain how my son would know something like that?”

Her face turned purple. “I’m not pregnant.”

“Well, something’s going on here,” Dad accused.

“It’s my fault,” I burst out before he could say something even worse. “I told Chris what you said about me not being the baby in the family for much longer. We just assumed…”

“You son of a bitch.” Gianna pushed out her chair, her dark eyes lit with fury as she glared at my dad. “You got some whore pregnant?”

Dad’s palm hit the table and the china and silverware all clinked together. “Sit down!”

“Oh, go to hell, David!” she yelled as she stormed out of the dining room.

Dad pushed up to his feet and looked down at me. I gulped. “I got her a puppy for Christmas. A pomsky. Thank you for ruining the surprise.” And then he started from the room after his wife. “Gianna!”

I sagged forward, wishing Will and I were still back at that Hampton Inn in Maryland. We should’ve never left. Maybe we could go back.

Chris lifted his wine glass out to me in a mock toast. “So, you’re the Wheston Breakup girl, right?”

“Fuck you, Chris.”