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After the photographer had snapped a few photos, he studied them on the screen on the back of his camera, then gave us a thumbs up. I exhaled, relaxing. Now I could get away from Huxley and drink myself into oblivion.
Except my mum stopped me in my tracks, just as I was getting ready to make a break for it. “Cole? Huxley? Before you go, we’d like a photo of the two of you together. Just one.”
I knew that the horror I saw in Huxley’s eyes was reflected in my own. For once, we were both in complete agreement.
“Cole. Please.” My mum’s voice wobbled a bit and shit, I was going to have to do this, wasn’t I? I wasn’t going to be the heartless bastard that ruined her day. I could suck it up and suffer Huxley for one photo.
I nodded at my mum and then walked over to where Huxley was standing. He watched me coming, his teeth gritted and his fists clenched like he was getting ready to punch me. Fuck, why did he look so sexy, all wrapped up in that suit with murder in his eyes? There was clearly something wrong with me if I was finding my step-wanker hot. I kept some distance between us, or I tried to, until the photographer instructed us to move closer. There was a slight smirk on his face, and I was betting that this was payback for Huxley’s behaviour earlier.
“Closer.” He was gesturing with his hand, and with a sigh, I stepped right up next to Huxley, so close that the sleeve of his suit jacket brushed against mine.
“You’re a lying bastard,” he spat between gritted teeth.
“Remove the word ‘lying,’ and you’ve just described yourself.” I smiled widely. “It’s so easy to smile around you.”
He legit growled, like he was an animal. “Fuck off.”
“Wanna know why? It’s because I’m imagining pushing you into the lake.” The photographer raised his camera, and I added, “Smile.”
Huxley pasted a smile on his face that actually looked genuine, and I wondered whether he was trying my trick of imagining that he was pushing me into the lake. Why did other people get nice stepsiblings, and I ended up with the one from hell? I knew I wasn’t doing anything to improve relations between us, but he was a complete and utter wanker…and okay, so was I, as it turned out.
“Miracles can happen.” David stared at us, shaking his head. “Maybe now you two can be civil to each other, you can consider moving back home, Hux.”
Huxley snorted. “Unless he’s moving out, I’m not moving in.”
David muttered something about “immature behaviour,” which I agreed with, although I had to say, it was quite nice to not have to be on edge every time I left my bedroom. There was a tiny part of me that felt bad that Huxley had left his home because of me, though. A tiny part that I was able to ignore now that I had him standing next to me, all tense and bristling with hostility.
"Arms around each other,” the photographer called, and I groaned. But I slid my arm around Huxley’s waist, knowing that it would just make him more pissed off.
He stiffly placed his own arm around me. “Touch me again after this photo, and I’ll break your arm.”
“Do you think you could? How much effort would it take to actually break someone’s arm?” I took a breath to smile at the photographer, imagining Huxley flailing in the lake and coated in algae, before I continued, “I think we’d be pretty evenly matched, probably. Maybe I’d break your arm first.”
Thankfully, the photographer called out to say we were done with the photos, interrupting whatever comeback Huxley had. He shrugged my arm off and stormed away, and I watched him go with the tiniest feeling of guilt. I shouldn’t have pushed him, not at my mum’s wedding.
With a sigh, I turned to my mum and David. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t helping the situation. He, uh, I shouldn’t let him get under my skin.”
David shook his head. “Huxley’s always been hot-headed and a troublemaker. I don’t blame you at all.”
Yeah, but I wasn’t faultless, was I? “Even so, I apologise.”
Both of them smiled at me, and David stepped forwards to clasp my shoulder. “Thank you, Cole. You have nothing to apologise for. I only wish Huxley could be a little more like you. I wish he’d give you a chance.”
Those words made me feel even worse. I had to leave. “Congratulations again. I’ll, uh, leave you to the rest of the photos.”
David hugged me, taking me by surprise. As he circled his arms around me, he leaned in, lowering his voice. “I don’t expect you to start calling me Dad, and I would never dream of taking the place of your own father. But I’d like for you to see me as a father figure. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve gained another son, and I only want what’s best for you.”
When he released me, my mum was dabbing at her eyes, smiling. “Thank you for being so good about everything, Cole. I’m very proud of you,” she whispered as I hugged her and kissed her cheek.
I needed a drink, because somehow, I’d managed to make myself look like a saint, and for Huxley to look even worse, and that guilt was rearing its head again. Making my way back up to the hotel, I headed straight for the bar, ordering a shot of vodka and tipping it back.
“Another,” I said to the bartender, just as someone came up beside me.
“I’ll have the same.”
Huxley stood next to me. In the short time since I’d last seen him, he’d ditched his jacket, waistcoat, and tie, and now he was in his white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing the tattoos that ran down one arm. His bleached hair was mussed up like he’d been running his hands through it, and as he drummed his fingertips on the bar, his black nails glinted at me. Fuck me, he looked hot.
It still didn’t negate the fact that I loathed him, though. It just meant that I had working eyes.
