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“Fuck you. I didn’t need to know you to know you were an asshole. You and your gold-digging, homewrecker mum—”
He hadn’t even finished talking before my fist swung at him, connecting with his face. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about my mum that way, you absolute fucking wanker!”
His fist shot out in retaliation, and I tried to duck, but he still struck a glancing blow off my jaw that made my teeth smash down on my tongue. A burst of blood filled my mouth, and I did what any sensible person would do—I lunged for him. He was gripping his nose, which I now saw had blood pouring from it, but he caught me around my waist, twisting us and sending the back of my head smacking into one of the cupboards.
I shoved him away from me and ran for the sink, where I ran the tap, holding my mouth open under the stream of icy water until the bleeding had slowed right down. When I wasn’t in danger of looking like a vampire who’d just fed when I opened my mouth, I withdrew my head and glanced over at Huxley. He was still standing there, blood dripping down his face.
For fuck’s sake. I grabbed a handful of kitchen towels, and stalked over to him, shoving the towels into his free hand. “Apply pressure to your nose with these, idiot. Tip your bloody head back too."
Surprisingly, he actually followed my instructions, probably because he was in shock or something. Pulling out a chair at the island, he climbed onto it and rested his elbows on the counter, keeping his head tilted back as he pressed the wad of kitchen towels to his nose.
I crossed back over to the other side of the island. The oven beeped, letting me know my pizza was ready, but I’d lost my appetite. After switching it off, I looked back over at Huxley. “Let me say one thing. You have a stupid fucking flimsy reason for disliking me on sight. But guess what—first impressions count, and yours was the worst first impression I’d ever had. And the second. And the third. And you know what I realised? I really fucking dislike you. You’re a complete wanker, and I want you to stay the fuck out of my way.”
He lowered the bloodstained tissue, and his eyes fixed on mine, hate burning in them. “I fucking hate you. I don’t give a shit that our parents are getting married; you’re not and never will be my brother. Stay the fuck away from me.”
Gathering up my laptop and schoolbooks, I gave him a cold smile. “It looks like we both want the same thing, doesn’t it? You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” I headed straight for the door, and paused. “There’s a pizza and garlic bread in the oven. Have it, or don’t, I don’t give a fuck. Your face has made me lose my appetite.”
With that, I walked away.
3
HUXLEY
THREE MONTHS LATER
Happy fucking wedding day. No, scratch out the “happy,” and add several more “fuckings” and it would be closer to the truth. I gritted my teeth, lifting my joint to my lips in an attempt to mellow my mood enough to get through this farce of a ceremony. My bastard of a father was marrying his secretary. Just how cliché could you get? And after throwing a world-record tantrum, complete with a screaming match and enough broken crockery to fill a mid-sized skip, my mother had waltzed out of my life. Hadn’t even given me the option of going with her. If I was lucky, she remembered to call every few weeks, but the last I’d heard, she was taking a trip to “find her inner child” or some shit, and apparently she couldn’t use a phone while she was…wherever she was.
I angrily exhaled a cloud of smoke, not giving a shit that the smell was permeating my suit. My dad was far more interested in his new wife-to-be than me, and after witnessing eight weeks of their nauseating behaviour, I’d got the fuck out of there. All summer, I’d rotated between friends’ sofas and spare beds, all the while resenting the fact that Cole fucking Clarke was tucked up all cosy in my house, playing happy families with his mum and my dad.
Why had my dad taken such an interest in him? He said it was because Cole hadn’t had the same privileges I’d had, and with his own dad a mostly absent figure, he wanted to try to make it up to him. Yeah, great, but he forgot about his own fucking son in the process, other than gifting me a car as my graduation present, which was basically him trying to buy me off. And I didn’t see June Clarke making the same effort with me. In fact, she’d hardly even spoken to me…okay, maybe because I’d made it clear that I didn’t want her near me, but whatever.
Bringing the joint back to my lips, I inhaled deeply. At the same time, the door to the hotel room opened, and I steeled myself, biting back words I wanted to let fly. This wasn’t my room, after all. It was just a room that the groomsmen were using to dress in, where the photographer kept popping in and out and making us pose like imbeciles.
The words I wanted to bite out died in my throat anyway as I saw who was standing in the doorway.
Cole.
I hadn’t seen him since early summer when I’d moved out, taking care to only come back home when I knew he was busy with his volunteering or his new job in a club in Soho. Now, I couldn’t help taking him in as I exhaled slowly, the smoke curling in front of me and making it look like I was seeing him through a mist.
The first thing I noticed was his dark hair, usually on the messy side, but now parted to the left in a boring-as-fuck, neat style that had the unfortunate effect of accentuating his features. His deep brown, thickly lashed eyes blinked the haze of smoke away as his lips curved into a lazy smirk. His tailored dark grey morning suit matched mine, which fucking sucked, because I couldn’t deny he wore it better than me.
“My favourite brother.”
“Not your brother,” I ground out, giving him the finger.
“Black nails. Cute.” He made a show of pulling his phone from his pocket and glancing at the time. “I’ll wait to call you brother in about…hmm…forty-five minutes.”
Before I could reply with a cutting remark, he strode over to me, plucked the joint from my fingertips, and took a deep drag, blowing the smoke into my face.
“Give that back. I need it. It’s medicinal.”
“Yeah?” He raised a brow. “In that case, I think I’ll finish it up.”
Then he was gone, and the only thing I could do was to punch the wall, wishing it was his smug fucking face.
* * *
The ceremony and speeches were finally over, and I was able to escape outside, avoiding well-wishers and other relatives I had no desire to ever see again in my life. Heading out onto the stone patio with a JD and Coke, I stopped dead when I saw Cole over to the left, deep in conversation with a cute guy with light brown, wavy hair. A weird feeling went through me. Almost like jealousy, except I knew better. I’d known for a long time that I was bi, but that guy wasn’t my type at all. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to find out who he was. Just in case.
