Unless you’re a trust fund baby, you’ll likely need to sell a kidney just to stay at one of the hotels here for a week.
Jase shrugs. “I’ll probably just check into the Deluxe.”
Lauren damn near chokes on the wine she started to swallow, and I can’t blame her. Hell, the whole room goes so quiet you could hear a grain of rice hit the floor.
Despite its name, the Deluxe Motel down by the highway is anything but a luxury. It’s in the worst place of an already bad area. To label it a “fleabag” is an insult to literal fleabags. When Vanessa and I were kids, we were dared to ride down there on our bikes. And I swear to God, the entire parking lot was covered in used needles, and the rat we saw escaping from the main office was larger than our neighbor’s cat.
Seriously, if you aren’t fully vaccinated from every possible disease to haveeverexisted, you’ll probably wind up foaming at the mouth by the time you check out…if you actually manage to survive your stay.
Derek and Lauren are quick to offer Jase their place, but he laughs it off, and I can’t necessarily blame him.
My brother and his sister already bought a house they’ll move into after the wedding, but it’s still under construction. And since Lauren’s lease isn’t up for another few months, they’ve been shacking up in the tiny one-bedroom apartment. Add in a third party, and there isn’t much room left for oxygen. Plus, the only place to sleep would be the couch, and I know from personal experience that the walls are notoriously thin. Jase must have crashed there at some point, because he makes the same observation, making his sister blush and my brother chuckle.
For the first time in my life, I actually side with my stepmom, because I already know what my dad is about to say. Blythe reaches for his hand in warning, but she isn’t fast enough.
“Well, clearly, your sister really wants you here, and we’d all like to get to know more about our new extended family,” says Dad. “You’re more than welcome to stay here.”
Jase makes a face of innocence, but he can’t resist catching my eye for the briefest second. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t want to intrude—”
“Don’t be silly. None of the other relatives have come into town yet, so you can choose any of the guest rooms,” Dad offers before Jase can even finish his weak attempt at an objection.
Is he kidding? My father knows absolutely nothing about this guy. Jase could be a serial killer for all anyone knew! Yet, Dad seems perfectly fine letting this jackass sleep under the same roof as his family.
My stepmom and I glare at him (albeit for very different reasons), but Dad doesn’t notice, all too happy to play host. He’s asking Jase what sports he’s into and if he would like to join him and his friend for a round of golf tomorrow, leaving Blythe to look like she may very well have a heart attack.
All of Dad’s golfing buddies knew Jase’s father before he became persona non grata, and there’s no way in hell they won’t draw the connection when they’re introduced to Jase and hear his last name.
Thankfully for Blythe, Jase admits with a self-deprecating laugh, “The only experience I have on a golf course involves a windmill. Plus, I’ve got to take my bike to the shop and have it looked at.”
My stepmom relaxes, even if only slightly, butI’mstill internally screaming.
Because what the hell just happened?
Five minutes ago, my biggest problem was surviving dinner with Sienna, and now Jase Rivers is staying at our house apparently until the wedding, which isn’t until the end of July!
My pulse quickly enters the triple digits and continues to rise as the jackass seated across from me winks—actuallywinks!—at me. And, of course, since nobody is sitting to his right, the gesture goes unnoticed by everyone else in the room. Still, it would be impossible not to notice his grin that quickly enters Grinch territory as the look morphs from playful to shit-eating. But my luck is about as crappy as you might expect, because the one-sided exchange goes unseen.
His left eyebrow ticks up a notch, the silent expression implicit.
It says, “Game on.”
The only problem: I don’t know the rules or even what game exactly we’re playing.
But I have a feeling I’m about to find out all too well.
CHAPTER 11
SORRY NOT SORRY
JUNE, 4 YEARS AGO
I’ve become a habitual rule-breaker.
In the two weeks since Jase first convinced me to sneak out of the house, I’ve proceeded to do it every day thereafter. I know, I know. It doesn’t sound like much in the grand scheme of things, especially when most of the “sneaking” is done in broad daylight. But the last time I blatantly broke a house rule was when I stole extra Halloween candy from my Trick-Or-Treat bag at age eleven, so this is new territory for me.
I figured Jase would eventually find something better to do with his time, but during the mornings when nobody’s here, he always swings by the house, and we find ourselves cutting through the neighbors’ yards until we eventually reach the main drag.
Jase waves a hand in front of my face as we pass a jewelry shop, apparently noticing my lack of focus on the scenery. “What’s going on in that worrisome brain of yours?”
