Page 91 of All Your Pucking Secrets

I snort. “They are idiots.”

She picks at her cuticles. “What are you more upset about? Tyler keeping things from you, the fact he’s been trying to manage your life, or Ryan befriending you under false pretenses?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. All of it.”

“If it helps, I’m sure they both genuinely care about you.”

I level her with a gaze. “How would you know that? Do you even know Ryan?”

“We met recently.” She focuses even more intently on her nails, her cheeks a pretty shade of pink. “He seemed like a good person. Loyal to you. He had no reason to fake anything around me, and that’s the impression I got. He seemed ready to tear Tyler’s head off before he realized I was his sister and not a random hookup.”

Somehow, that makes me feel better—or at least, more willing to accept Ryan’s claim that he honestly considers me a friend.

“Thanks for telling me.”

Her gaze flits around the courtyard. Once again, I’m struck by how similar her features are to Tyler’s. Except that on him, they’re broader and more masculine, whereas hers are delicate. She’s very All American.

“No problem.” Her eyes settle on me again, a little brighter than Tyler’s. “Just so you know, Tyler would worship the ground you walked on, if you let him. He may not always come across well, and sometimes he makes stupid decisions, but Dad was fucked up, and none of us got out of that house without scars.”

“You don’t have to tell me—”

“Tyler’s scars are mostly psychological,” she continues, ignoring my interruption. “Mine are more physical. Although I didn’t escape the psychological warfare either.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugs again, looking away. I get the feeling she doesn’t like talking about this, and I don’t blame her. It must bring back a lot of bad memories.

“Tyler regrets the choices he made back then. After Eric Weston got sent away like the criminal he is, Tyler just wanted to make sure you were safe, and he was prepared to do whatever it took. He might not have gone about it the right way, but his intentions were good.”

“That’s the problem.” I sigh. “He always has good intentions, but how many other secrets is he keeping?”

“He was emotionally damaged, and he’s doing the best he can. He’s trying.”

“I know.” Perhaps I’m not being entirely fair to him. It’s just hard to continually have the rug pulled out from beneath my feet. “Still, you grew up in the same household and you seem to understand what’s okay and what isn’t.”

She grimaces. “You can thank several months of intense therapy for that. Tyler and I have both been seeing professionals since Dad died.”

“Oh.” I frown. “He never mentioned it.”

“He probably didn’t want you to worry about him.”

I wince, experiencing a pang of guilt. Sure, I have my own issues, but I care enough about Tyler that I should have at least taken the time to find out something like whether he sees a therapist. I’ve had plenty of opportunities to ask, but I never did. What does that say about me?

“I’ll do better.” Provided we continue to see each other.

Soraya chips away at the paint on one of her nails, dislodging flecks of pink. “I wouldn’t take it too personally. It can be hard to get things out of him sometimes, especially if he doesn’t want you to know. He had to learn to keep a lid on his emotions. I may have borne the worst of Dad’s physical abuse, but Tyler was never allowed to show weakness.”

My chest squeezes. “If your dad were still alive, I think I’d like to kick him in the balls.”

A laugh bursts from her, and her eyes widen as if she’s surprised by it. “Get in line.”

Something softens in the air between us. A sense of understanding.

“Hey, would you like to get an ice cream?” Soraya suggests. “It’s a nice day for it, and we can keep talking for a while longer.”

I snap my textbook shut. “Let’s do it. Honestly, I was just staring at the page anyway. None of it is going into my head.”

She pulls a face. “I get that. My mind goes down a rabbit hole sometimes if I start thinking of the past or letting myself dwell on negatives.”

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