Page 62 of Fast

“When Kelly and I decided to get married, we were hoping to blend our two families into one. God knows we both needed a fresh start. She after her divorce, and us…”

Ares takes a big gulp of his bourbon, and I do the same thing. We can’t even bring ourselves to say Atlas’s name, even though it’s been two years.

“My point is,” Dad continues. “We were hoping that you kids would get along.”

I can’t help myself but smile. “When you mentioned that Kelly had a daughter, I was hoping she would be cool. But Zara is awesome, Dad.”

I’m about to mention that we already met her, but I think better of it. I don’t want to have to go back to the worst weekend of our lives on a happy day like today, when Dad inevitably asks how we met our new stepsister.

“Chance is right.” Ares agrees. “Zara is very nice. Even Heather loves her, and she’s very choosy about who she lets into her inner circle.”

Dad brings his glass to his lips, without really drinking. That’s probably good, since he’s planning to drive back to the Country Club.

“I’m glad Heather has taken her under her wing. College is a new beginning anyway, and your social circle is going to expand tenfold compared to high school; but it’s good that she already has a good friend to help her acclimate to a new town and a new family.”

I’m about to tease Dad for his choice of words. Acclimate? Zara isn’t a house plant or something. But Dad’s next words stop me in my tracks.

“It’s good that you guys think so highly of Zara too,” he levels me and Ares with a hard stare. I haven’t seen him looking at us that way in years. “But the reason I wanted to talk to you tonight is that I want to set clear expectations and boundaries when it comes to having Kelly’s daughter living in our house.”

I don’t understand why he looks so vexed. “You don’t have to worry, Dad. Like we said, Zara is really cool.”

A muscle in his jaw pops at my words. I’m about to ask what’s wrong, but the answer comes before I get to ask the question.

“You keep saying that,” he bites out, looking less than pleased. “And while I’m glad you two like Zara, I think you like her a little too much.”

A look passes between me and my brother, but again before either of us can ask Dad what he means, he explains.

“You aren’t being too subtle about it either,” he glares. “Every time I look at either of you, you have your hands on Zara. Helping her dry herself after a shower, or storing something in the garage. Even tonight, the way both of you danced with her in front of all our friends and family was so inappropriate, I was embarrassed.”

“Dad,” Ares intervenes. “It’s not what it?—”

He interrupts him. “It’s not what it looks like?”

I squirm in my seat. Because I don’t know about Ares, but when it comes to me, it’s exactly how it looks like. I have the fucking hots for Zara. And if I wasn’t here getting yelled at by Dad, I’d be upstairs with my face buried between her legs or even better, balls deep inside her.

Of course I don’t say any of that. It’s not like Dad is waiting for an answer to his question though, he’s on a roll right now.

“You had your hands all over her,” Dad accuses Ares. “She’s a kid, Ares. You?—”

“She’s eighteen,” Ares interrupts him. “Almost nineteen, actually. She’s only two years younger than me.”

Dad shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. She just graduated from high school. She’s too young for you.”

We both get our stubbornness from Dad. “Two years isn’t a big age gap. There are five years between you and Kelly. And there was exactly the same age difference between Atlas and Heather. No one had a problem with them dating.”

I know mentioning our late brother was the wrong thing to do, even before Dad slams his fist on the coffee table. “Leave your brother out of this. The age difference isn’t even the biggest issue here. Chance and Zara are the same age. The problem is that whatever you two think you’re doing with her, it needs to stop right now. Zara should feel safe in our house. It’s her house too now. She shouldn’t have to fend off your advances.”

I take offense to that. “Dad, that’s unfair. I can’t talk about Ares, but I haven’t done anything Zara didn’t want. And before you get bent out of shape about this, I asked for her express consent before I kissed her, and before?—”

If my temper wasn’t flaring like a fucking Fourth of July firework right now, I would laugh.

I would think that Dad’s and Ares’s matching scowls are hilarious.

“Watch your mouth,” Dad seethes. “I’d be very careful about what you’re going to say next, Chance. You better not have fucked her or so help me, God.”

Hearing the word “fuck” coming out of my dad’s mouth makes me flinch. It’s not like I haven’t heard him cuss before, but it’s always been on video, whenever we watched old tapes from his pro hockey days. Since Dad retired from the NHL totake care of Mom when she got sick, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him use any foul language.

Dad, however, isn’t the only one who’s looking at me as if he wanted to rip my head off.

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