Lexi’s mouth moved—but I couldn’t make out one word she said.
We couldn’t be—siblings.
Could we?
Was I really Wes Turner’s son?
Had Mom lied to me for my entire life?
My dad—or the man I thought was my dad—had been a professional hockey player.
That was where I’d gotten my talent from.
Or, where I thought I’d gotten it from.
Christ.
Was this the real reason Mom and Wes had been so adamant that Lexi and I stop our physical relationship?
Something inside my head was about to explode.
This could not be happening.
Someone, please tell me this was not happening.
Lexi stood on the couch. She was clearly yelling at me.
Too bad I couldn’t understand a word that came out of her beautiful mouth.
“Snap out of it! Can you hear me?” Lexi’s voice screamed loud and clear into my ears.
I blinked.
“I can now,” I muttered, and looked around the room in confusion. “Did I—did you—did that just happen?” I pointed at the TV.
Lexi’s head fell back, and she bounced down to the cushions.
“Yes! Oh, my gosh, I thought maybe you had a stroke or something.” Her voice sounded like she’d been running a marathon.
“We can’t be—” I stammered out, unable to say exactly what I was thinking.
What we were both thinking.
Christ.
What the entire world was now thinking.
“I don’t know.” She knelt on the cushions and bent over the back of the couch.
Her arms pushed her tits closer together, only making her cleavage that much more fantastic.
I shut my eyes.
Christ.
I needed to bleach my fucking eyes.
And my fucking brain.