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And I’d sworn. Cross my heart and hope to die. I kept my promise, even if I’m not sure anymore it makes any sense.
However, I made him swear he’d keep my own secret, too, and he did. A pact, though he’s getting the light end of the deal. God, I don’t want to think about it. What happened to him... If it really happened... if his little kid’s mind didn’t misconstruct something he saw...
In any case, I still think he should talk to someone about it, a professional, someone who can help him. You see, just by looking at my little brother, you can’t tell that he rarely sleeps at night. He’s full of positive energy, a bright person, and a total heartthrob. Behind those clear blue eyes, though, there’s this heavy shadow.
I want to take it from him, but he won’t let me.
And now I’m drawn to Jarett, another boy whose pretty eyes seem to hide a wall of pain, only...it’s different.
Of course it’s different. Merc is my younger brother.
Jarett is definitely not my brother. And he’s so hot...
“Gigi. Are you listening to me?” Mom has her hands on her hips and she’s glaring daggers at me. “I said, is he asleep? Or shall I take him some soup? He hasn’t eaten all day.”
“Soup. Take him some soup,” I say and skip down the stairs and out of the house.
I didn’t see Jarett at the school today, or even afterward, in the bus. I walked home alone. I wonder if he also caught the bug that brought Merc down.
That’s a good excuse to go look for him, right?
***
But Jarett doesn’t look sick. At all. He’s standing in the Lowes’ garden, beside a lawn mower, bare-chested in the dipping sun, and whoa...
This boy is ridiculously ripped. Fro
m his broad shoulders to his defined pecs and chiseled abs, he’s like a work of art. A classical statue of a man, tanned and shifting and very much alive. He shoves dark hair from his eyes and turns, spotting me.
He grins.
Be still my heart.
He gives me a long look, that grin melting away all rational thought, then grabs the lawn mower and starts it up again.
I know by now he doesn’t talk much, but hey, he seemed glad to see me, so I enter the garden—using the gate this time—and stand to the side, watching on as he cuts the grass.
Makes me wonder why I never see the family’s other son, Sebastian, work in the garden. He has other chores? Or he’s just a lazy ass? I know he’s older than Jarett, because Sydney told me, and that he works someplace on the other side of town. Maybe that’s why I never see him around?
Not that I mind. I never liked that guy much.
Whereas his brother...
“So you were adopted?” I shout above the noise of the mower, and... nice move, Gigi. Great way to start a conversation. He probably hates talking about it.
What’s worse is that I seem to be right. He glances at me, his jaw clenching, and he goes on mowing, his back to me.
Crap.
I approach, but stay out of his way as he walks back and forth, in perfect straight lines, mowing the whole frigging lawn with military precision. I never thought Jarett was so neat and organized in anything he did.
And it hits me how preconceptions shaped the way I see him: dark lines of tattoos on his arms, all those strong muscles, the glare he directs at the world make me think he’s messy, in his life and in his mind.
What do I really know about him, after these past weeks of walking with him, and talking with him?
Nothing, really.
Except that he likes eating his fries with ranch dressing. And that he got jealous of Merc. At least I think he did.
