Page 58 of The Write Stuff

A smile spread across his face. “May I ask why you don’t want to look at her as a sister?”

“No, you may not.”

He snorted, then caught himself and sobered. “Sorry. I’m just going to let you sit with your feelings for a little bit. You’ll come to terms with this faster if I don’t push you.”

“There’s nothing to come to terms with.” I refused to let my life snowball out of control right now, and that’s exactly what was about to happen. I had to get control over what was happening.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Nathan promised.

“Oh, no?” I locked gazes with him and snorted. “How, exactly, do you think my mother is going to take it if I show up for Christmas with Wylie on my arm?”

Obviously, the actual intricacies of this situation hadn’t fully hit him because he looked surprised at my vehemence. Then he went still.

“Oh,” he said finally.

“Oh,” I barked.

“I didn’t even take into consideration the mothers thing.” A smile broke out on his face as he clapped my shoulder. “This is going to be great for everybody, actually.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Because you and Wylie are on a crash course for each other. That means, eventually, your mothers are going to be on a crash course, too. Maybe they’ll make up.”

“I sincerely doubt it.”

“What makes you say that? Every fight can be overcome.”

I was going to wipe that smile off his face, one way or another. “Because Wylie’s stepfather is my former stepfather.”

“I don’t …” Nathan broke off, realization finally setting in. “Oh, geez,” he said.

“Yeah. Our mothers are not going to play nice.”

He regrouped faster than I anticipated. “That doesn’t mean you guys can’t be together.”

Didn’t it? However I approached this problem, I kept coming up against a brick wall. I wouldn’t hurt my mother for anything. What if I couldn’t stay away from Wylie, though? How was I supposed to fix this situation?

“It’s more complicated than you can ever understand,” I said finally. “I can’t break my mother’s heart. Not again. I just … can’t.”

Nathan dragged a hand through his hair. “Well, maybe we can figure a way around this.”

“We can’t.” I was firm on that. “There’s just no way. You need to let it go.”

Now I had to follow my advice and let it go, too.

Right?

Right?

Oh, hell. I wasn’t going to let it go. I already knew that. Maybe it was time to stop pretending instead.

Yeah, that was definitely the way to go.

16

SIXTEEN

Something was off about Huxley. I couldn’t put my finger on it.