“I could eat it all night long,” Brock agrees. I press my thighs together; the thought of being their main course has my inner muscles twitching again.
Vivian looks back and forth between us; I hope she doesn’t suspect anything. After a moment, she decides to change the topic back to football. “Have you seen my boys play?” she says to me.
I could tell her I’ve felt them play, and how. But I don’t. “Of course,” I say instead. “I watch every game.”
“I love playing,” Brock says promptly. “There’s nothing like plunging through an opening and making that big score.”
I take an extra-large bite of my pad thai, counting on the necessity of chewing it to keep me from drooling at the image he’s conjured up. They’re making me squirm, just like they did in the taxi.
“It’s a thrill,” Cody says solemnly, but with a devilish gleam in his eye. “Football is such a full-contact sport, you never know when you’re going to go horizontal.” Under the table, his fingers brush against my thigh, and tingles run up my spine.
As the meal winds down, my dad and Vivian exchange another Look. He covers his hand with hers, his fingers curling into her palm. “Since we’re all here together, we might as well tell you,” he says.
We’ll Be Family
Megan
My meal threatens to evacuate my stomach. I know what he’s going to say. I don’t want to hear it, but I know. I know.
The twins look at their joined hands, then at me. I don’t meet their eyes or respond. I’m frozen. “Tell us what?” Brock says, and there’s no emotion in his tone, as if he’s being carefully neutral.
I can feel my father’s eyes on me, but I can’t make myself look at him. I’m afraid I might burst into tears, or jump up and run to my room as if I were ten years old again. It’s taking all I have just to hang on.
Finally, he ends my agonizing limbo. “I’ve asked Vivian to marry me, and she said yes. We haven’t set a date yet, but it’ll be soon.”
He says some more words. They wash over me, just sound, no comprehension. The room is getting farther and farther away from me, as if I were floating into space.
Then Cody’s hand finds mine under the table. He grabs hold and squeezes, not quite hard enough to hurt. This does two things. It reminds me that I’m not alone, and it shocks me back into the moment.
I blink and look up to see my dad and Vivian staring at me. They don’t look happy, and I wonder what my expression has been telling them. “Well!” I say, injecting a false brightness into my voice. “Congratulations. I should get these dishes cleaned up.”
Before anyone can say anything, I jump up and grab my plate, stacking it with the twins’. We’ve demolished all the food, so there’s no reason to wait. Putting our silverware on top, I turn on my heel and quick-march it into the kitchen.
I hear the murmur of voices in the dining room, and then Vivian follows me. Of course she did. She stands next to me and puts her hand on my arm. “I know this is difficult for you, Megan. I just want you to understand that I care about your father very much, and want to make him happy.”
The impulse to shake her hand off is hard to ignore, but I manage. You know nothing, I think. All I say is, “I definitely want Dad to be happy.”
“Good.” She pats my arm, and again I resist the urge to yank it away. “I knew I could count on you to do the mature thing.”
I keep a phony smile pasted on my face. Rinsing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher is a flimsy excuse for ignoring her, but it’s all I’ve got. I may be quiet on the outside, but my mind is whirling.
It’s not only the shock of my dad announcing that he’s getting married. And it’s not just that I’ve only met Vivian. It’s not even that so far, I don’t like her very much.
What it is, is the ugly truth that if this wedding goes through, the Beast Brothers will be my brothers. Stepbrothers, okay, but still. We’ll be family.
Which takes my taxi makeout session with them from naughty to shocking. Sure, I didn’t know, and neither did they — at least I hope not — but still.
And that’s not even the worst part.
The worst part is that I still want them. Even knowing we’re going to be related soon, my body doesn’t care. I am completely, totally, seriously in lust with my almost stepbrothers.
My world has been turned upside down today, and none of it has been good. Except for those moments in the taxi. They were wonderful.
No matter what happens, I’m going to hold that memory close to me forever.
“I think your dad has ice cream,” Vivian says. I hide a wince at this further evidence of how comfortable she is in this house. “Shall we have some for dessert?”
“Sure,” I say with a tight smile. “I’ll get the bowls and spoons.” And I do that while she opens up the freezer and gets out containers of rocky road, pistachio and orange sherbet.
The ball of ice in my stomach turns to acid. When I was growing up, before I left for college, we ate tin roof sundae ice cream, double fudge, and strawberry. And sometimes plain vanilla with toppings.
Never rocky road. I know most people love marshmallows but I can’t stand them. And my dad hates pistachios. Neither of us hates orange sherbet, but it’s not our thing.
Which means all these flavors are Vivian’s. He’s let his ice cream preferences be obliterated. Completely annihilated.
This sounds like nothing, but my dad is the kind of man who knows what he likes and wants what he wants. He’s not the sort to let his freezer be overrun by abhorrent ice cream flavors.
I may be overreacting, but in that moment, I vow to be on my guard, even if she is the twins’ mother. Maybe things are wonderful. Maybe my father loves her, and she’s good for him, and I just need to get out of the way. But I’ll be making up my own mind about that.
We eat our ice cream. I’m childishly gratified to see that the brothers aren’t a fan of Vivian’s flavors either. Everyone but her eats the orange sherbet, and not a lot of it.
A car horn honks outside. “There’s our ride,” Cody says. He slipped outside earlier and paid the driver to wait; he must have also told him to signal at a specified time. It makes me wonder if they’re as eager to escape their mom as I am.
The guys kiss Vivian on the cheek and shake hands with Dad, who tells them he’ll see them tomorrow for the pre-game practice. “I’ll be right back,” I say, and follow them outside before my dad can say anything else.
The rain has finally stopped, and the night air is cool and refreshing. The twins guide me around the puddles on the cobblestones until we’re out of earshot of the house.
“You coming with us?” Brock says, flashing a devilish grin. “You know we’re happy to give you a ride whenever you feel the need.”