“Jesus, Penelope. You’ve always been totally fucking selfish, but for once, think about someone else. My mother begged me this morning. She was crying. She knew we wouldn’t want to, but she thinks it will help her. So, we need to go.”
She just keeps shaking her fucking head. “No.”
“After everything she’s done for you? You’re going.”
Her hand rests between her naked breasts over her heart as if she’s struggling to breathe. “I can’t. I love Nora, but I can’t go.” She pushes past me and moves under the spray of the showerhead, trying to wash everything away.
Fuck this. I’m not lying about the phone call with my mother. I haven’t heard her break down like that in a while. She was pleading with me. She told me her therapist thinks it would be a good idea to return there and face her demons or some shit. None of us have been back there since it happened.
I move behind her, pressing my body against her, molding perfectly to her curves. “Come on, P. Imagine all the damage we can do to each other there.” My lips drag over her bare shoulder. “Fuck, we can recreate prom night.”
“You’re a miserable prick.” She turns around to face me, her hands over her tits now as if she has any modesty. “That was the last time you were there, huh, Linc? Prom? When you fucked me,” her eyes flicker with fury, “your brother’s girlfriend.”
I know what she’s driving at as the rage burns inside me. “It was. Return to the scene of the crime with me. Maybe this time we can fuck in his old room.”
She gulps, the pain visible on her face. “That’s right. You haven’t been back since the day after prom. That was the last time you were there because you weren’t fucking there when he died.”
“Don’t push me, Penelope.”
She lifts her chin in defiance. “Fuck you, Linc. At least I was there. You weren’t. Because you couldn’t handle what we did to him either.”
My hands grip her shoulders as I fight the rage I feel, hating her more than ever. “You’re going to the fucking lake house.”
“You’re not my boss. And no, I’m not.”
“You owe my family.”
She doesn’t, but I know she believes she does. Her shoulders sag, and I want to comfort her. I despise that fucking need deep inside me.
Why does the hate have to be layered and complicated? All I want is to straight-up despise this woman and be done with her.
“I hate you.”
I lean in, my nose almost touching hers. “The feeling is mutual.”
I release her and rinse off before climbing out of the shower, wanting to hit something or run to the lake.
Because she’s right.
I wasn’t fucking there.
One Year Ago
“You really aren’t going?”
I hate how disappointed my brother sounds. I know it’s really fucking hard for him to understand that I won’t be joining the family this time. It’s been a long-standing tradition. The day after school lets out, we go to the lake house as a family.
P and Colt graduated last week, and Asher’s last day of his sophomore year was today. Lola is back from college, and she’s going.
I shake my head as I watch him pack his clothes into his black duffle. “Nah. I can’t do the happy family bullshit anymore.”
He looks disappointed as he sits on the edge of the bed. “It means a lot to Mom.”
I scoff and shake my head, crossing my arms as I lean against the doorway to his room. “Yeah, that’s because it’s the one time of the year Dad pretends to give a shit.”
He winces, and I almost feel bad, but it’s true.
He’s been different the last few weeks, and it started before prom. I have no idea what’s going on with my little brother, and it bugs the hell out of me.
I guess I’ve been different since prom too. I haven’t been around much. I can’t watch P and him, the perfect fucking couple.
Knowing I’ve been inside her and he hasn’t. And yet somehow, they’re the ones in love.
I walk into his room and sit next to him. He’ll always be my brother first. “You and P okay?”
He turns to look at me curiously. “Why do you ask that?”
I shrug, trying to seem casual. “I don’t know. She seemed upset on prom night.”
“Yeah.” He runs his hand through his hair, looking tortured and so unlike himself. “I guess maybe I’m tired of the façade too.”
“What’s that mean?”
He tries to shake it off. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
I grasp the back of his neck and force him to look at me. “You don’t have to be who they want you to be.”
He swallows, his face full of sorrow, sending a sick feeling through me. “We’re brothers, no matter what, right?”
I stare at him, hating the look on his face. The worry. That’s not Colt. He’s always calm and optimistic, but there’s a darkness there. “That’s a fucking weird thing to ask.”
“It’s just nice to hear it sometimes.”
I study him and then nod my head slowly, still holding his neck with my hand. “We are brothers, no matter what.”
He looks slightly relieved by that, but I know there’s something under the surface. “Good because, to me, nothing is unforgiveable.”
I stare into his light blue eyes and try to decipher what the fuck he’s talking about. Does he know I fucked Penelope?
Would he be this fucking calm if he did?
Colt is the one person I would think could remain peaceful knowing that, but when it comes to P, I have no doubt he would keep that calm only until the knife was being driven right into me.
He won’t let her go without a fight.
He stands up from the bed, pulling away from me and starting to pack again. “Well, I still wish you’d go. I know Dad is no prize, but it’ll be fun. Penelope misses you.”
I swallow hard, thinking about P. I don’t think any part of her misses me.
I remind her of our mistake.
“I think you’ll all get along just fine without me.”
He smiles, that easy bright smile he’s always had as he shrugs his shoulders and packs his swim trunks. “Maybe I miss you too, asshole. You ever think of that?”
I smile, feeling a stab of pain in my chest, knowing that whether I regret having sex with Penelope or not, I do hate that him knowing I fucked her would kill him.
I pull the green trunks from the bag and hold them. “Why even bother packing these? You going to finally get over your fear of the water?”
He laughs and takes them back from me. “I’m not afraid.” He shrugs. “I just don’t like to swim, but I never say never, and I know Pea would like it if I went swimming with her once."
My parents begged him to learn how to swim for years, but he always hated it. He’d kick and scream every year when we were little and Mom would sign us up for swimming lessons. It was the only time I can think of that he ever gave my parents a hard time. I suppose if it really meant a tremendous amount to them, he’d have tried harder, but they gave up pretty quickly.
What did they care if he liked to swim?