Page 19 of Promised Secret
It first started as a way to comfort him when he was particularly sad over a breakup. We’d both been drunkin our apartment during college, and it probably was a mistake, but neither of us had stopped it.
In my drunk-hazed brain, I might have thought it was wrong—stepbrothers shouldn’t be kissing each other—but kissing Dan had stopped his tears when the alcohol hadn’t.
We didn’t talk about the kiss the next day. Ichalked it up to a drunken accident, but after Dan’s next breakup, we kissed again. We were drunk the first few times it happened, but over the years, kissing, even without the alcohol clogging our brains, wasn’t uncommon, though it was always as a form of comfort whenever Dan’s dates didn’t go well.
Which made me wonder why he didn’t want me to comfort him with a kiss now? Was it because we were out in public?
Stepbrothers probably shouldn’t be going around kissing, but I didn’t dive too deeply into that thought. I didn’t want to.
All I knew was that it was what Dan had needed at the time, and there wasn’t a whole lot I wouldn’t give him.
Plus, Dan was a good kisser, probably from all the practice he got from all his dates, but that was something else I chose not to think about.
I was disappointed not to get the comfort of his kiss right now, but I’d take holding him close for now.
It probably should have alarmed me that I’d started relying on the comfort of his kisses, too, but that thoughtwas shoved into the back with everything else I chose not to think too deeply into.
Our dynamic couldn’t fall apart if I didn’t pick at the loose threads.
Dan’s hand fell away, landing back over my shoulder. We continued holding each other as we rocked to our own beat and pretended that nothing was wrong.
Chapter Seven
DAN
“Thanks for coming to help,” Jones said again after Ryan and Karla left for his grandma’s place.
We were decorating the guest room—though I guess it was now officially Karla’s room. Ryker, Jones, and I used different flower stencils to cover the yellow walls with all sorts of floral arrangements.
Clay, on the other hand, was freestyling and painted flowers that had more character than our manufactured ones, but were still cohesive to the overall look of the room. He’d pause every once in a while to add some little details to the dried flowers we’d painted on. An extra petal or leaf here or there and shading or highlights to make the flowers really pop.
His artistic talents really shone through, and it made me wonder why he didn’t paint or draw more often.
“You know we have your back,” I told Jones, though I couldn’t keep my eyes off of Clay. Therewas a calm energy surrounding him as he painted that captivated me.
“You look happy,” Ryker said and clapped our friend on the shoulder.
I nodded in agreement.
“I am happy,” Jones replied. There was no hesitation or fear in his voice.
Honestly, I never thought Jones to be the settling-down type. Having a stable partner and kids? Didn’t sound like him.
When I was away at college, I’d heard all the stories of his playboy ways. Jones was like me, never said no to any guy who asked him out, and was always playing the field. That was why I was shocked when he started going steady with his ex-boyfriend, who was totally wrong for him, by the way.
Everyone besides Jones could see it at the time, which was why he ended up dating Deke for as long as he did. But dating Deke had changed Jones. He was more demure, not entirely himself, and had catered to every one of Deke’s needs. Maybe the loss of himself had meant the relationship was doomed to fail from the start, which was also the reason why I never thought he was the type for a steady relationship.
He wasn’t with the right person.
Things were different with Ryan. It was ironic, but Jones looked freer with the responsibility of a dog, a kid, and a partner. He seemed more like himself, too, happy and content.
I was stoked for my friend, but I couldn’t say I wasn’t jealous as hell that my friends were finding their person—or in Jones’ case, he found Ryan, Karla, and Lily.
Meanwhile, I’d found my person, but he just had to be the one person I couldn’t be with. Not really.
Not unless I wanted to shatter mylao-ba’s image of a perfect family.
A war raged inside of me. The good son who wanted to make his father proud, and the selfish part that cried how unfair it was that our parents announced their relationship first.
