Asshole.
“Chibi?”
“Chibi Miyazaki. Daisuke’s adversary.” He shakes his head as he turns on the television. “You have a lot to learn, man. So much.”
“I literally can’t wait,” I deadpan, earning me a poke to my stomach. “And, seriously, don’t call me Chibi again, Daisuke.”
The boyish grin on his face is enough to have me waving my white flag of defeat.
He can call me whatever he wants if I get to see such stark happiness on Canyon Voss’s handsome face.
All playfulness has evaporated by the time dinner rolls around. Canyon is back to being his broody, closed-off self in front of his father, despite spending the past couple of hours watching his admittedly interesting anime show. It’s more fun watching him explain all the characters and their importance versus watching the show itself. I like how the two main characters remind me of the two of us. Daisuke Kinoshita is a brat for sure, with a tender, caring side hidden beneath all that asshole exterior, totally reminding me of Canyon.
“We’d love for the three of you to come to the ski resort with us in Canada,” Dad says, clutching onto Ryan’s hand. “More of a family vacation than anything.”
I blink away my daze and frown at them. “You want us to go on your honeymoon with you?”
“It sounds silly,” Ryan says in a sheepish tone, “but you’ll all be off for Thanksgiving break anyway. The resort will be beautiful, and skiing could be a lot of fun to do with all five of us. Of course, we’d get a separate suite for our honeymoon and all, but we’d really like it if our children came along with us.”
I may not be considered Dad’s kid anymore at that point. Especially if he ever finds out about what I’ve been up to with Canyon.
“I don’t know,” Canyon grits out, the pure honesty in his voice tugging at my heart. “I’m just coming around to the idea of the two of you marrying. Going on family vacations together feels like…too much.”
I want to reach over and take his hand, but I don’t.
“Is that the real reason or are you worried about my impressive snowboarding skills?” I ask in a smug tone, though I don’t feel it, hoping to goad him back to familiar territory where so much pain doesn’t bleed from him. I’m yearning for my dad’s favor and Canyon’s happiness just as much as Ryan is. “It’s okay if you want to pussy out.”
Canyon’s brow lifts in that challenging fashion of his that gets my dick hard, which is incredibly uncomfortable sitting at the dinner table with our dads. “Are you taunting me, Wonderland?”
“Wonderland?” Ryan asks, his gaze dancing back and forth between us.
“Alis,” Canyon says, his eyes dropping to my lips. “He’s a wonder, that one.”
“What’s the worst that could happen if you go?” I smirk at Canyon, ignoring his heated gaze. “You’re already used to getting your ass beat by me. What’s one more thing?”
“My track record for beating your ass is great,” he throws back. “I’m sure today, at the meet, was proof.”
“They’re insufferable,” Dad jokes to Ryan, and then to Canyon, he says, “We really would love to have you and Carrie both.” He grows serious as he studies Canyon. “We know it’s difficult, but we want to do right by you kids.”
The muscle in Canyon’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t lash out like I expect. Instead, he gives Dad a clipped nod. “I’ll think about it.” He glances up at the clock and pushes his plate away. “I need to get back home.”
Ryan’s shoulders slump in defeat, but Dad gives one of them a supportive squeeze. I know it hurts them that Canyon is resistant to come around, but I understand his hurt too. He feels betrayed by his father and is dealing with the ripple effects with his mom.
“I’ll walk you out,” I murmur to Canyon.
Dad winks at me, clearly thankful for my efforts to get along with Canyon. I feel like a dick because my reasons are purely selfish. I want to kiss Canyon once more before he leaves.
This is such a potential fucking disaster, and I don’t know how to stop it from happening.
Canyon
Mom is exactly where I left her.
In bed. Still dressed. Sleeping her life away.
I may be pissed at Dad for causing this, but I can’t help the resentment stirring in my gut. Choosing not to go to my track meet was on Mom. Flipping out on me earlier was all her. Lying about her job was a decision she made all on her own.
“Hey,” I greet from her doorway. “Mom, wake up. You hungry? I can make you something.”
She lets out a yawn, stretches out her limbs, and shakes her head. “No.”
“Can we talk? I feel like we never talk anymore.”
“What’s there to say, Canny?”