Evangeline

He was never here, he said. He didn't do it, it didn't happen. It was a dream.


No. It was real.

As real as my broken heart.

Leonard


I slept like shit last night. If I slept at all. I already regret how I handled things—literally and figuratively. Literally in how I handled my cock, like it was a punishing shaft created in order to spill all my filthy, dark impulses over Evangeline. And figuratively, in the way I said it didn't even happen.

Carter was right—I was out of order.


Saturday finds me by the pool, audio of the Surf Rats game playing on my phone, one beer in my hand and another waiting in a small cooler at my side. And sitting like a lump on my chest is a pile of regret.

The back door swings open and Evangeline steps outside, carrying a giant basket, an ice chest, and a towel. But as soon as she sees me, she stops dead in her tracks. Stares. Turns around to go back inside.

'Wait," I say. 'I'll go, if you want to be out here alone."

She pauses. 'I don't care if I'm alone—I don't want to, you know, bother you or whatever."

Inwardly, I wince. I didn't mean to make her unsure of herself. 'Get out here, relax. The water's nice. You'll have to listen to the game, though."

'Oh yeah, you like that football team. The Beach Bums, right?"

I stare at her in horror, that she could be so far off, but then she cracks a grin. 'Kidding, kidding," she says. 'It's the Surf Rats, it's baseball, and from the sound of it, Kurimoto just stole second."

'Fuck," I say, listening to the roar of excited fans at the ballpark. 'I missed it."

I was too busy trying not to ogle her breasts in that white bathing suit she's wearing.

'Anyway, if you're sure you don't mind…?" she prompts.

'Not at all, make yourself comfortable. It looks like you've brought half your room out here."

She sets down the basket with a snort. 'I don't want to track water inside every time I want something. So here I have an ice chest filled with hard lemonades and bottled water."

With a flourish, she opens the top.

'I see," I say.

'And in this basket, I have chips which I am not sharing—get your own, old man."

'Old man?" I grab my heart as if wounded.

She talks over me, continuing, 'As well as cherries which I might be persuaded to share, and red licorice."

'What's your stance on sharing red licorice?" I ask.

'Only with my best friends." She gives me a side-eye. 'I don't think you qualify."

'Ouch," I say. Then, quieter, 'Hey, I need to say something."

She raises her eyebrows. 'Yeah?"

'Last night—I'm sorry. I was an asshole."

Shrugging, she says, 'You still can't have my licorice. But it's fine."

It's not fine, but she holds herself with more confidence as she finishes arranging her gear, walks to the pool's edge, and dives in to start swimming laps.

After a few minutes of listening to the game and pretending not to watch Evangeline in the pool, I give up and dive into the water as well, cannonball-style, so she's hit in the face with a massive splash when she comes up for air.

'Nice," she says sarcastically when I come up, and she splashes me back.

We goof around, smacking water at each other. Evangeline creates a barricade from two air mattresses. She's so busy trying to hold them together and up high that she doesn't notice I've ducked beneath the surface. Underwater, it only takes a few quick, powerful strokes before I can grip her ankle. I give a quick, light tug—enough that she'll realize she needs to take a breath—and then I pull her down to my level.

Her blond hair swirls around her head. She gives me an affronted look from what I can tell in the blurry water, then punches me. Of course, the hit carries no force down here. She flips me off and I have to hold in my laughter until we both swim up, breaking the surface.

'What the hell, old man?" she says, shoving me and laughing. 'I built a freakin' castle over here, I should be safe!"

'Your fortress is weak, because I just swam under it. Try harder next time, little girl."

'Psh. I was going easy on you because you're old."

Shaking my head at her impertinence, I grab her in my arms.

She screams, a delighted giggle with no real terror behind it. 'What are you doing? Unhand me, you wicked old man!"

'Sure, I'll unhand you." I lift her up, out of the water. 'Take a breath, Trouble."

'Leonard? Leonard, wait, I meant?—"

'Breathe, baby."

As soon as she gives up and stops screeching, I throw her.

When she comes up, she somehow manages to tread water and flip me off with both hands. I splash her in response.

I don't think I've had this much fun in years. 'Come on, Trouble. We should get out, get in the shade for a bit."

She gives me one last splash because she can't seem to help pushing my buttons, but I allow it. I get out first and get her towel for her. A breeze has picked up, raising goosebumps over her skin, so I wrap her towel around her shoulders and tug it tight.

Offering me her crooked smile, she says, 'Thanks."

'You're welcome," I say, more gruffly than I intended.

It's not just lust I'm feeling for my stepbrother's daughter. I actually care about her.

And that's more terrifying than anything else.

Evangeline

Leonard's deep laughter is still echoing in my ears when we finally go inside the house to dry off and change. I put away my snack supplies and tidy up the mess I made in the kitchen, first. As I'm putting my unopened hard lemonades into the fridge, my phone buzzes on the counter.

It's a message from Chanel.

My heart rate instantly kicks up a notch, and I haven't even read the text yet. I was having such a nice day, too—of course my sister has to come along and stress me out.

Steeling myself, I finally read the words.

I'm sending Thomas over. He can help you get your things and move them back home.

She's sending…what? Assuming I even wanted to move back to Mom and Harold's house, why the fuck does she think I'd want stupid Thomas to come over and help me? Is this some kind of weird power play, a 'look, I can get your ex to do whatever I want" sort of thing?

I type out a response so fast, I have to fix several autocorrect errors before it says, Do not send Thomas here.

She responds right away: But you don't have a car and this way you won't have to hire one.

I changed my mind, I'm actually not ready to move back home. My heart pounds and I have to lean on the counter—taking this one little step away from Chanel and Mom's control feels like a Herculean effort.

The phone starts ringing in my hand. Chanel.

I don't answer. I carry the phone with me to my room and sit down on the bed, staring at the lit-up screen until Chanel's name disappears.

Another text pops up. Answer your phone. You have to move back. I need you.

A part of me actually considers it. She needs me? I've always been there. But maybe it's my recent time with Carter and Leonard, maybe I'm just growing out of old habits. So instead of agreeing, I write one word. No.

Damn. That was scary. I start to toss my phone on the bed where it will hopefully get buried and muffled by pillows, because she's surely going to try calling again. Before I do, though, I pull up the group chat with Saige and Maya. The best cure for a terrible sister is friends who understand me. I type out, Want to meet up at The Dive?

Hells yeah, Maya replies. Nine?

I confirm, order a ride, and hurry through a shower. I'm glad it's not a scene there—I don't have to put in a lot of effort. I can just wear whatever.

I set myself a two-drink limit, but I'll probably stick with just one. I'm not getting hammered tonight.

A swipe of mascara over my lashes, some tinted lip gloss. A pair of jeans with holes in the knees and a comfy tank top printed with the Bastian Crown icon, and my high-school style necklace with the key—it's badass and cute at the same time. One last glance in the mirror and I head downstairs.

'Bye!" I call to the guys, who are still sitting in front of a game.

'Where are you going looking all delectable?" Carter stands up and stalks toward me.

'Out."

'When will you be home?"

'When I feel like it."

'Sassy little brat," he says, spinning me around and smacking my ass. When he turns me to face him again, he's smiling.

I reach up and smooth my hand over his whiskery cheek. 'I'm going to The Dive with Saige and Maya to celebrate finally telling my sister that I'm not moving back to my mom's."

'You were going to move back to your mom's?" he asks.

I shoot a glance at Leonard, then shake my head. 'For a minute I thought I was. Leonard talked me out of it. Anyway, I should go. Don't worry, I won't drink like last time."

'Good girl." He kisses my cheek, then palms my ass, squeezing.

'Carter." I push ineffectively at his chest. Leonard is sitting right over there. While Leonard and I had a good time swimming and he apologized for last night, we also didn't really address the issue between us. Namely, that I won't budge on not telling my dad, and he thinks we need to say something to him.

'You're worried about Leonard?" Carter asks, raising his eyebrows. 'I don't think he minds at all."

Leonard keeps his eyes on the screen and says, 'Fuck you."

With a laugh, Carter lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his waist and he leans me against the wall, kissing me like he's suffocating and I'm air. His cock is hard against my inner thigh. The Dive doesn't sound nearly as fun now as it did a few minutes ago. Maybe I should stay here.

But Carter pulls back and slowly lowers me until my feet touch the floor. 'I'll see you when you get back, doll. Call me if you want a ride home. I'll come get you."