Page 54 of Where It Begins

His unfocused gaze moves over me. “If you become my stepsister, you’re forbidden. My teammates think that’s cool.”

I hold up both hands. “Stop right there. Whatever you’re thinking about saying, keep it in your word hole. That path is closed. Never to be walked down. Ever. There are enough romance books out there about it, and that’s where it should stay, in fiction.”

“It’d be weird if we hooked up,” he mutters.

“Our parents are dating and based on how things are going, there is a solid chance they’ll get engaged, which means they’ll get married, and then we’ll be stepsiblings. The only things we have in common is that our parents are hot for each other and we’re both in high school. From a statistical standpoint, the chances that we would work out in the long term are exceptionally low. Especially since you’re heading for a career in professional hockey and a ridiculous number of girls have flirted with your exceptionally drunk ass since I got here tonight. And you seem to be a huge fan of the attention, which is understandable since you’re a walking hormone. Based on these factors alone, it would be an extremely bad idea to hook up.” I’m also not into the fuzzy blond jock type, but I leave that part unsaid.

“That’s not. I didn’t mean—” He turns around, grips the door jamb, and hurls all over the floor.

At least it’s the hallway, and it’s hardwood.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

NOT THE TURN I EXPECTED

Sidney

“It’s just so pretty.” Skye hasn’t stopped smiling or staring at her ring.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I don’t like it. I love it. It’s beautiful.” She shifts in her seat. “I can’t believe I’m engaged. Should we tell the kids when we get home? Should we wait?”

“It’s totally up to you.” I set my hand palm up on the center console and she slips hers into mine. I bring it to my lips and kiss her knuckle. “Are we moving too fast? Should I have waited to pop the question until weekend away number two or three?”

“If you’d waited, we might not have such an exciting story to tell.” Skye squeezes my hand.

“This is true. That was one hell of a night.”

“I loved every moment, save the fifteen minutes between the spider and finding the ring.”

“How’s your head?” She has a minor bruise on her forehead that’s covered by her hair and a significant lump on top.

“It’s fine. Nothing a little concealer won’t cover until it fades.” She taps her lip. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep this news from Violet for very long. We’re pretty open with each other.”

“That’s fair. Miller and I are the same. Why don’t we see what the state of the house is, and if Miller and Violet have stayed friends? Then we can decide if we want to tell them right away,” I suggest.

“Sure. That sounds good.” Skye checks her phone and frowns. “Violet still hasn’t answered my text this morning.”

“Maybe she’s sleeping in? Miller sometimes plays video games all hours of the night. He could have wrangled Violet into playing them with him,” I offer.

“It’s possible. She did tutor all day yesterday and then she had a meeting with the Mathletes, so I’m sure she’s exhausted.”

An hour later, we drive down my street and Skye’s hope that her daughter slept in because of all her math-ish endeavors fizzles. “Are those red plastic cups littering the lawn?”

“Miller better not have thrown a party while we were away or I’ll ground him until he gets shipped off to training camp,” I grumble as I turn into the driveway.

“Maybe someone else on the street threw a party,” Skye’s voice is high and nervous. The truck is still moving and her door is already open.

I shift into park and we both hop out, leaving our bags and the mostly empty cooler in the trunk.

Skye grabs my arm when we reach the hood of the SUV. “Oh God. Is that a used condom on the driveway? That looks like a used condom, Sidney.”

I follow her gaze. An inch from her foot is a green condom. At least they had the decency to tie a knot in the end so the contents aren’t splattered all over my interlock. But its location begs a lot of questions. As does the color. “It’s a used condom,” I regretfully agree.

“Oh God. Teenage parties are the worst. Violet better still be a virgin. All she’s done so far is kiss a couple of boys. I need her to make good decisions until college, or hopefully later, when boys don’t have their heads up their asses when it comes to finding the hot buttons.” She releases my arm and stalks across the driveway, skirting around plastic cups and another condom.

My hands are unsteady as I unlock the door and usher Skye into the front hall. We’re lulled into a false sense of security until we reach the kitchen and living room. The inside of the house looks far worse than I ever could have expected. Red plastic cups litter the counter and every other available surface. Chips bags and their contents are scattered across the floor. It smells like the inside of a brewery and a jockstrap. I spot at least two more condoms on the floor. Not in their wrappers. There are two boxes of condoms on the coffee table, both open.

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