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By the time the clock hits five o’clock, I’ve sufficiently worked myself into a near panic attack. I count my breaths as I scurry out of the office and climb into my Toyota. Blaring the most obnoxiously loud rock music, I drown out every worry. Every memory of the way my dads reared back in disgust when they realized I’d mated with my stepbrothers.
It won’t be like that.
It won’t be like that.
At least for now, since we have some time before having to break the news. We can’t pretend forever. I only hope, when the time comes, my mom’s love is as unconditional as it’s always been. She’s amazing. My stepdads are too.
They have to understand, right?
My knuckles turn white on the steering wheel as I drive through rush-hour traffic. We didn’t mean for any of this to happen. We never intended to put them in an awkward position of having to explain that, not only are they mates, but their kids are mated too. Talk about awkward.
So, you all are mates?
Yes, that’s right.
And your children . . . are too?
Yup.
God. I can almost picture the pearl clutchers now. The whispers about how, perhaps, it’s been this way since I was sixteen. My crush and desires sparked then. Dylan and I were the same age when he started coming into my bedroom to sleep, but nothing ever happened. Well, nothing likethat.So what if we shared a few touches that bordered on inappropriate? So what?
They’re my mates.
Right. I suck in a deep breath and turn into the neighborhood. Forget what everyone else thinks. The only people I’m truly worried about are our parents. So long as they accept it whenever we tell them, as long as they don’t freak out like my dads, no one else matters.
Daria would lose her mind if she knew.
I hate that I haven’t told her, but her heart is still recovering from her recent breakup. I’m not going to shove my happiness in her face.
The gate is open, and I spot Brady’s and Dylan’s cars as I begin to pull into the driveway. “Gangs all here,” I mutter.
In the back seat, an imaginary Scooby Doo screamsRuh Roh, Shaggy, Ruh Roh.
Oh my god. Now I’m hearing a fucking cartoon in my head. This was a terrible idea. They’re going to know. My breath trembles in my lungs. “Jesus, Quinn. Get it together.” I sit and control my breathing for a few minutes before climbing out ofthe car. My pulse is still fluttering, but there are no cartoon characters magically appearing.
Good. Now I just get out and go inside.
One last fortifying breath, and then I push out of the car, grabbing my bag and phone and keeping my head held high. The door opens before I can reach for the knob, and my mom is there, beaming at me with glistening dark blue eyes that are nearly identical to mine.
“Hey, sweetie!” There are a few strands of silver in her brunette hair, and her cheekbones are a little more defined than mine, but we have the same nose and mouth. She’s so beautiful. Her smile makes my chest ache.
I remember a time when all I wished for was to see that grin.
“Hey, Mama.”
She attacks me, yanking me into a crushing hug and rambling a dozen things all at once. I laugh and hug her back, not realizing how much I need this. Her love. I’ve spent weeks working myself up with worry. It feels so good for her to hold me and call me her sweetie and tell me how much she’s missed me.
“Oh my gosh,” she says with a strained laugh. “I’m crying. Why am I crying?”
“Oh, Mom,” I say, leaning back to search her face. Sure enough, tears are threatening to fall. “Are you okay?”
“I’m so good. I really missed you,” she says. “I was so worried about what might happen while we were away, but the boys took care of you, didn’t they?”
The question is harmless, but I instinctually brace myself.
“Uh, yeah. They were nice. Austin made food, so that was awesome.”
She nods. “He’s busy in the kitchen now. Brady and Dylan are with your stepdads in there as well. Should we join them?”
