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“You can do this,” I whisper as I fidget with the dark blue blouse Daisy picked out for me last night. I’m not usually one for pep talks, but the situation seems to call for it as I get ready to start my first day at our new high school.
Today had arrived before I even had time to blink. A moment I’d been both dreading and anticipating when it had finally sunk in that the marriage was happening and that mom would be moving us from the mainland to Thatcher’s Bay.
"I knew you’d look good in that,” Daisy comments from the doorway, and I jump. She laughs and slides all the way in, shutting the door behind her. “You’re freaking out.”
“I’m not freaking out,” I snap back, a little more bite to my voice than usual because, let’s face it, Iamfreaking out.
Daisy looks like a supermodel with her tight white jeans, so tight that I can see the outline of her black thong. Her red shirt is designed to catch everyone’s attention, showing off a sliver of her toned stomach. Her hair is pulled up into a haphazard ponytail and her make up is expertly applied. Staring at my gorgeous sister in her get-up only manages to do one thing—make me second guess what I’ve got on.
I suddenly hate my outfit.
I pull on the shirt and then pick up a brush, sighing as I tug at my hair.
“Stop,” Daisy orders, yanking the brush from my hands and throwing it on the dresser with a loud clatter. “You can’t be trusted with this brush. This is not a weapon, Sky. It’s supposed to make you look beautiful, not bald.” She smirks teasingly while gathering some bobby pins before working her magic on my hair. A few minutes later, she’s done more with my hair than I’ve been able to do for the last thirty minutes.
“My pretty little sister,” she coos as she stares lovingly at me through the mirror.
Just one of the reasons I love Daisy and would do anything for her—she actually means it when she says things like this. Somehow, she really believes it. She looks in the mirror and sees me standing next to her like a star standing next to the sun. She sees something I don’t.
And I never will.
Not wanting Daisy to be aware of the pitiful thoughts rummaging around my head, I shoot her a wan smile and she plants a smacking kiss on my cheek before sauntering back towards the door. “We need to leave in five. I’m fine with being late, but I don’t want you to have a heart attack on your first day.”
I stick my tongue out at her, even though a glance at my phone tells me I did lose track of time trying to get ready.
And that does in fact make me panic.
After one last peek in the mirror, I rush to grab my backpack and race out of the room…smacking right into Noah. I almost fall backwards, but he quickly reaches out and grips my arms, saving me from falling on my ass.
“Aren’t we in a hurry?” he drawls in that lazy, mocking way of his. I try to step away, but his hold remains tight.
“Sorry,” I murmur, biting down on my lip as we lock eyes.
You would assume that I would be used to having a stepbrother by now, but you’d be wrong. Noah has made himself scarce since the wedding, a fact that, up until this very moment, I didn’t realize how much I appreciated. Because all I can think about as I stare at him is that I know what his face looks like when he has an orgasm.
Awkward.
I clear my throat, a countdown starting in my brain of how much time I have until I’m late. His eyes are glittering with amusement, like he can see the numbers in my head. But that isn’t the reason why his stare is so unnerving to me. It’s the way Noah slowly traces my skin with his gaze, all the way from my face to my toes.
“Trying a bit too hard to impress on your first day, aren’t you?”
His stare feels like a physical caress across my skin and it’s all I can do not to shiver.
I roll my eyes at him, proud of how steady I’m acting even if my insides are shaking.
His lazy grin widens and he leans forward.
“Well, color me impressed,” he whispers before he brushes past me and disappears down the hallway to the bathroom.
My nerves are even more messed up as I go the opposite direction, out into the living room where Daisy is sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone.
“Ready to go?” she asks expectantly. I nod, unable to form words after whatever the hell that had been back there. My sister is used to my awkwardness though, so she doesn’t think to question it.
I follow her out to the beat up Honda that she’s taken to driving so proudly, like it’s actually a Rolls Royce. When Daisy asked Curt for a car on that harrowing wedding day, none of us thought he’d actually give her one. So imagine our surprise when he drove the old thing up the driveway a week later, handing her the keys to it. I doubt Daisy heard a word about how the car was so that we both had some kind of dependable transportation to use to and from school. All she heard was the sweet sound of freedom. Sure the car is older than me and her combined, but Curt won her heart that day. I wish I could say the same. The Fontaine men are something I’m still trying to decipher.
Daisy chatters the entire drive to school, but I wouldn’t be able to pass a quiz on what she says even if I tried. All my thoughts are centered on what lies ahead.
And to my chagrin, my mind also comes back to that peculiar interaction with Noah in the hallway.
