Page 7 of Wreckage

She raised an eyebrow. “Am I?”

The conversation was already grating on me. I didn’t want to talk about Elena. I didn’t want to think about her. I wanted to drink my beer, keep Amanda happy, and make it through this fucking weekend.

“Can we not do this here?” I muttered. Tonight was supposed to be fun. Carefree. I was supposed to be drinking, laughing, and doing my party thing. I could tell it was going to spiral really fast.

Amanda exhaled loudly and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the stairs. “Fine. But we’re talking about this.”

Fucking hell.

We barely made it into the bedroom before Amanda spun to face me, crossing her arms.

“Why are we keeping our engagement a secret?” she asked.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Amanda, not this again. Seriously. What are you doing?”

“Yes,thisagain.” Her voice rose. “It’s a simple question, Troy. Why haven’t we told anyone?”

I sighed, leaning back against the dresser. She’d come out of left field with this shit. It was happening almost daily now. She wanted to announce our engagement. I wanted to keep it under wraps. “We will. I just?—”

“Just what?”

I don’t know.

The answer sat in my chest like a weight, but I didn’t say it. Instead, I gave her some excuse—about wanting the right timing, finishing school first, and not wanting to make a big deal out of it.

She saw right through it. She did every time I tried to give an excuse. The fact we were here, in this moment, fucking arguing about it again was only making me feel worse.

Amanda crossed her arms. “You were staring at her earlier.”

I blinked. “What? Who?”

“In the student lounge. Isaw youlooking at Elena.”

I scoffed. “I was looking at Adrian.”

She rolled her eyes. “Right. Sure. Because Adrian is so fucking interesting.”

I clenched my jaw. “I wasn’t looking at her, Amanda.”

“Then why did you react like that downstairs?”

“I already told you. They were talking like assholes.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Or maybe you didn’t like hearing guys talk about her like that because youlikeher.”

I rubbed my temples, the whole conversation turning into mush inside my head. She often liked to rag on Elena. Tried to get me to react. Tried to fucking fight about shit we shouldn’t be fighting over.

“Just relax.” I exhaled. “We’re here to have a good night. Elena is my fucking stepsister, Amanda. Don’t say stupid shit.”

Amanda let out a bitter laugh. “Right. Have a good night while my fiancé keeps secrets and gets weird about his stepsister. It doesn’t matter if she’s your stepsister. I know what I saw.”

I straightened, my patience fraying. “You’re blowing this out of proportion. It’s not like that. You fucking know it’s not.”

“Am I blowing it out of proportion?”

“Yes.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and I knew she was on the verge of storming out.

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