Page 46 of The Tangle of Awful

Her sculpted eyebrows dip and scrunch together. “Of course. Come on.”

I allow her to grab my hand, hauling me into her house. I’m thankful when she rushes me past her father’s office where his voice booms beyond the door. We’re not so lucky when we nearly crash into her mom, Jamie.

“Aubrey?” Jamie says, a huge grin on her face. “We missed you, girl.”

I allow Gemma’s mom to pull me into a motherly hug that has my eyes prickling. I’m envious of Gemma’s life. She has two parents who adore her. Both of mine hate me and I’m on the fast track to getting my stepfamily to hate me too.

“Mom, you’re smothering her,” Gemma complains, saving me from an embarrassing crying spell.

“Missed you too,” I manage to croak out as I pull away from Jamie.

Gemma takes my hand again, tugging me away from her mother and up the stairs. We pass by Dempsey’s closed door. The bass is loud, making the pictures on the wall rattle. I’m glad we don’t have to see him. Right now, I just want to be alone with Gemma. Once we’re safely tucked away in her room that smells like sweet pea perfume, I sink onto the bed, dropping my purse at my feet.

“Spill,” Gemma says, plopping down beside me. “You’re scaring me. It’s Spencer, isn’t it? He hurt you.”

The frown on her pretty face says she can’t really believe it, but she’ll try. For me. Her loyalty to our friendship makes me feel like the biggest bitch on the planet for ghosting her when I left.

Spencer is the least of my problems right now. I wonder if Gemma would still be so comforting if she knew I kissed her oldest brother at his office—my freaking stepfather. Would she be such a good friend then?

I chew on my bottom lip for a moment, trying not to think of the softness of Hugo’s lips that didn’t reciprocate my kiss.

“Aubrey,” Gemma urges. “You’re scaring me.”

“I kissed Spencer,” I say instead of telling her what’s bothering me today. “That’s why I left.”

She gapes at me, eyes blinking almost comically. “What? You hate him.”

I do now. Sort of.

“Back then it was different,” I mutter, shrugging my shoulders. “We liked each other.”

“So you kissed him and then he started hating you?”

“Something like that.”

Gemma huffs. “That’s stupid. Why would he get mad if he liked you too? It’s not like you’re actually related.”

My mind drifts back to that day.

His lips are soft and wet. I wonder what they’ll feel like on other parts of me. A soft moan escapes me. He responds with a groan—no, a growl, practically devouring me as if to chase away the sounds I’m making. I’m a captive to his expert, claiming kiss.

A gasp from the doorway has both of us stilling.

We’re alone.

Right?

“What the hell are you doing?” Mom demands, voice equal parts shrill and furious.

Not alone.

Crap.

“M-Mom,” I stammer out. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Isn’t it, though?

I’m practically straddling my stepbrother in his bed, our tongues tangled only seconds before.

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