Stolen Crush
Page 39
I hazard a glance his way.
“Tackle this again after some food?” I ask and Parrish nods. He doesn’t look at me though. Actually, he looks nervous as fuck, and I can’t figure it out. Is it because he admitted that he’s into me? Has to be.
We end up heading upstairs to find Tess, Paul, and Laverne seated around the table. Somebody ordered in, so there’s plenty of Chinese food to pick through. Also, it seems my bio mom is deeply entrenched in a bottle of wine.
“You don’t understand how the author world works,” she drawls, swinging her wineglass around in just such a way that liquid slops over the side onto the floor. Paul scrambles to clean it up while Laverne glares. The toxicity in the air is pungent; my immediate instinct is to GTFO. “Most people are social climbers. They use you until they get to the rung they want, and then they abandon you.” She sniffles and downs the rest of her wine as I approach the table with caution.
“Well, what did you expect when you got into the business of writing fairy tales?” Laverne quips as I cringe internally, piling my plate with fried rice while Parrish goes for the chow mein. “I don’t see why you continue churning out those ridiculous pulp fiction novels. You hardly need to work at all. You should be spending more time with the children.”
My shoulders tense and Parrish notices, flicking a warning look my way. It quite clearly says don’t fuck with Laverne, Dakota. Only … I’m not really paying attention to him. Instead, I’m focused on Tess’ exaggerated frown. I’m still angry with her, obviously. But I also want to see how she claps back at the matriarch of the Vanguard family.
“I write because … oh.” Tess sniffles again, looking at her empty wineglass like she can’t quite understand how it got that way. “I wrote to find my daughter, Laverne.” Tess gestures at me, drawing both Laverne’s and Paul’s attention my way. Fantastic. I keep adding food to my plate and acting like I’m not listening. “But there’s more to it. I just … I can’t explain it.”
I lift my head up to look at her. Her comment from that awful lunch at the country club—Maybe you don’t fully appreciate how much I like money?—rings in my head. Was she lying then? Does she see her work the way I do, as art, as something important?
“The children need a guiding hand,” Laverne continues, giving me a look. The way she looks at me, it’s that same cold assessing gaze I got from Parrish in the beginning. Clearly, she isn’t impressed with me either. “Someone has to be around to do it.”
“Guess I’ll deal with the fallout later, won’t I?” Tess quips right back, pouring herself more wine and sloshing it all over the table in the process. She’s definitely one of those Millennials who has shirts that say things like It’s Wine O’Clock and Eat, Pray, Wine. Not that I blame her. Actually, it’s one of her more intriguing qualities. “Maybe Paul should quit his job and deal with the kids?”
Laverne ignores her in favor of staring at me.
“How did you manage to find your way into this family?” she asks, which surprises me.
“Grandma.” Parrish’s tone holds a sharp warning that Laverne either doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore.
“It just seems odd to me that you heard about a wealthy family looking for a lost child and then magically appeared, ready to enjoy all the benefits that come with it.”
Tess slams her wineglass down on the table and stands up, her chair legs scraping across the floor.
“She took three DNA tests, Laverne. And look at her. I mean, really look at her. You’re always scheming and plotting behind other people’s backs, so you assume everyone else is doing the same.” Tess throws back her wine as I stand there with my plate of food and try to decide if I should run or simply chuck my body out of one of the upstairs windows. Surely the high desert would be more forgiving than this crazy family?
“What do you think of your new sister, Parrish?” Laverne asks, as if she didn’t just call me a gold digger and a liar two seconds prior.
Parrish slams his plate down on the table so hard that it cracks before turning to look at his grandmother.
“First off, she is not my sister. Stop calling her that.” I hear the same words from him that he’s been repeating like a mantra since moment one only … the meaning is different. I catch myself holding my breath and force out a long exhale. “Second … she …” He chokes on the words for a moment before reaching up and running his inked fingers through his hair. “She’s alright. She definitely isn’t here for fun. Who would be? This family fucking sucks.”
“Parrish.” It’s a warning from Paul this time.
“And you can’t make someone love you by controlling them,” Parrish says next, surprising the crap out of me. He looks up and straight at Tess. “You shouldn’t keep her from talking to her sister and her grandparents.”
“Parrish.” This time it’s Tess, but she’s practically choking on his name.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” Laverne continues, oblivious to the tension in the room. “You let the boy cover his skin in gangster tattoos and then find yourselves surprised when he talks back.”
“This is his art,” I blurt, surprising myself. “And he’s damn good at it, too. Have you ever looked at his sketchbooks? Do you even care?” I double the portions on my plate, slapping the food onto it with a vengeance. “Excuse us.”
This time, it’s me who grabs Parrish’s hand and drags him away from the table.
We end up sitting and sharing the plate of food at a small table on the opposite side of the room from the shuffleboard table.
“Did we just defend each other?” he asks me, staring hard at the fried rice instead of my face. “When did that happen?”
I do my best to stifle a smile, but it comes through anyway.
“I have no idea, but I like it. It’s much better than you ‘burying me’.” Parrish cringes slightly at the reminder of his opening challenge to me back in February. He picks at the rice with his fork.
“I’m sorry about my grandma. She’s a bitch, but we all put up with her because she’s a billionaire and everyone wants her money when she dies.”
“She’s a billionaire?” I ask dryly. “Like for real? Also, that’s pretty dark.”
Parrish lifts his head up to look at me.
“For real. Also, you’ve met her. Would you willingly hang out with that woman?”
I guess he’s got a point.
We finish our food in silence before Parrish stands up from his stool.
“Goodnight, Gamer Girl.”
I watch his retreating form, trying and failing not to at least glance at his ass in the tight jeans he’s wearing. After a few minutes, I head up the small set of stairs that leads to the first floor.
“Hey,” I whisper, crouching down beside Ben. He’s sitting in an armchair in the living room reading a book. And not on an e-reader or an iPad or a phone, but like, an actual paper book. God, I love this kid. Give us some time and I might actually come to think of him as a brother. “Which room is Parrish’s?”
He points me in the right direction before diving right back into his book. His most frequent arguments with Tess and Paul often involve the phrase ‘just one more chapter!’ so I know we’re kindred spirits. I slip into the room and close the door behind me, putting my back to it and pausing to survey the room.
It’s fancy, much fancier than the one in the basement. There’s a king size bed, walls painted a charcoal gray, and an entire bookcase full of coffee table style art books. He’s even got an attached bathroom, a walk-in closet, and a huge window looking out at the manicured portion of the yard.
In short: it’s about a million times better than the one in the basement.
Uh-oh.
Parrish Vanguard … I hate him.
But also … I think I like him.
A lot.
Too much probably.
The next morning, we’re supposed to meet at the China Hat trailhead to go on an ATV tour. Not that it doesn’t sound like fun but doing anything
with this family involves loads and loads of drama.
“I hate ATVs,” Kimber whines, the sound of her voice making my ears ring. Now that I’ve been here for a while, I can see why Parrish is always slumped in a corner with earbuds in, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. There’s a lot of in-between time, most of it spent arguing in tight, quiet voices or waiting for people to finish primping. Paul and Kimber are the worst offenders by far, checking and rechecking themselves in the house’s mirrors before deigning to join the rest of us outside.
“We’re spending time together as a family whether you like it or not,” Tess hisses, yanking open the driver’s side door of the SUV. She looks hungover and pissed off. Also, she still isn’t talking to me. I can’t decide if I’m happy about that or if it bothers the fuck out of me.
“She’ll get over it eventually,” Parrish tells me, and my cheeks—and yes, my boobs—flush red at the sound of his voice. I’m having a hard time looking at him right now. Seeing his room last night—more specifically, seeing what an awesome room he was giving up to keep me company—made me realize that fighting my feelings for him isn’t getting me anywhere. I may as well just be honest about it.
Only … not right this second.
“Get in the car, Kimber. Now.” Tess is growling at this point, slumped in the front seat of the SUV with a pair of designer sunglasses on her face. Her mouth is carved into a deep frown, and she’s very clearly avoiding having to talk directly to me.
Parrish finally drags himself off the bench at the end of the driveway, giving me a long, studying look as he passes by. It’s too much, that look. It makes his brown eyes blaze with gold, sharpens that bored apathy of his into something much more interesting.
Dangerous.
That’s what he looks like today, like someone I should stay far, far away from.
We resume our positions in the backseat, but the atmosphere is even tenser than it was yesterday.
As Paul and Tess argue in low tones up front and Kimber furiously taps out a message on her new phone, Parrish and I stare at each other.
“Can I sit by the window?” Ben asks Parrish, giving him this adorable little brother pout that makes me miss Maxine like crazy. Coming to the realization that I’m not just a little sister anymore, but also a big sister is a weird one. As a former baby sister, the shift in dynamic is staggering.
“No.” Parrish doesn’t fall for the adorable moue (likely since he’s been a big brother his whole life) and turns away, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Pear-Pear, please,” Ben whines, and I clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle a snort. That’s not the first time I’ve heard the nickname ‘Pear-Pear’, but it’s funny as hell anyway. “Pear-Pear, I threw up when we got here yesterday.”
With a snarl, Parrish yanks off his seatbelt and scoots closer to me. Since we’re both wearing shorts, our thighs end up touching again, and that hot flush returns to my cheeks and boobs. I end up staring down at the places our bare skin is touching like I need a fire extinguisher or something. Fuck, am I the only one who thinks it’s hot as hell in here?
“I told you not to fall in love with me,” Parrish murmurs in such a quiet voice that I know I’m the only one that can hear him. He sounds strained, half-ready to break. Maybe I’m not the only one with a problem here?
“Who says that I’m in love with you?” I whisper back, and he turns this anguished look on me that does all sorts of strange things to my body. My stomach twists into a knot, nausea overtakes me, and my heartbeat picks up speed so fast that I feel faint.
He ignores me as Tess backs out of the driveway, taking us back down the winding drive toward the main road. We hook a left and continue on for about fifteen minutes before reaching the trailhead.
And oh, what a fifteen minutes it is.
My bare thigh against Parrish’s bare thigh, Kimber’s overdramatic sighs, Amelia and Henry’s squabbling. Ben is the only person who isn’t annoying, digging into a middle grade novel called 13 Treasures by Michelle Harrison.
Pure agony, is what that drive is. Fucking agony.
As soon as we pull into the dusty parking lot, Parrish is scrambling up and over Ben, throwing himself outside with the zeal of someone fleeing a fire. I wait for Ben to climb out and then join the Vanguard family as they assemble around a large toy hauler trailer. To the right of it are four Polaris ATVs and some rando white dude with a dark tan, a sunburned nose, and absurdly white teeth.
“Let me drive,” Parrish murmurs, getting way too close to me. He’s so close that Tess actually gives him a warning look, like she thinks he’s quietly insulting me rather than … whatever it is that he’s doing. “We should talk.”
I swallow hard, but what can I say to that? We most definitely need to have a conversation.
The guide gives us a rundown on safety features, rules, and how to drive the ATVs before handing out helmets and letting us pick our own rides. I’ve never done anything like this, but it looks fun. Or, it would be if Parrish and I weren’t doing … something. Crushing on each other? Lusting after each other? I have no idea.
He grabs the rearmost ATV and takes the driver’s seat, leaving me to climb into the passenger side. Tess takes Kimber and Amelia in the frontmost ATV while Paul, Ben, and Henry grab the middle one.
Once the vehicles are started, and we’re slowly rolling forward, following one another and letting the instructor lead us across the road and onto the trail, it’s nearly impossible to hear anything at all—even Parrish. At the very least, this gives us the privacy we need.
“What are we doing?” I shout out, letting out a small sound of excitement as we hit a bump and catch some air. The ATV hits the ground hard, but the shocks are good, so it’s just fun rather than jarring. The wind is whipping my face and hands, but the sun is hot. The landscape is a fascinating mix of Douglas fir, western juniper, native lupine, and red-brown dirt. I’d appreciate it more if I weren’t wrapped up in a romantic rendezvous with my own stepbrother.
Ugh.
Yep, yep, I’ve done it. I’ve become a teen novel trope. There it is. It’s all over for me.
The thing is … sometimes tropes are there for a reason. Because they’re fun. Because I’m getting a stupid ugly thrill out of having a crush on Parrish Vanguard.
“You tell me,” he yells back, slowing the vehicle down at the next turn to give Paul a chance to speed up. Parrish glances over at me, but his face is impossible to read beneath the visor of the helmet. “Do you like me or not?”
I just stare back at him, that hot ember in my belly fanning into a flame. God, he’s annoying sometimes.
“Do I like you?” I query back as he hits the gas again, plastering me to my seat the way he does when he drives his zippy sportscar around. “Do you like me?”
There’s a long pause, long enough that I start to wonder if he even heard me. I figure probably not, since the wind is so loud, and the train of ATVs is raucous.
“Yes.”
Just that.
That one reply, it staggers me. It kills me. It rearranges every single thing I thought about Parrish in an instant. I mean, I still can’t stand the guy. He’s rude and dismissive, hot and cold, bitchy, moody, spoiled. So fucking spoiled.
And yet … he stands up for people he loves. He cares more about Tess than he does himself. He’s there whenever I need a shoulder to cry on, or a place to escape to.
“Yes.” This one’s from me. I don’t have to clarify which question of his I’m responding to. He knows. We both know. “So what do we do?”
Another long pause as we climb into the mountains.
We’re approaching a massive, fossilized lava flow on one side, coming up to the line of stopped ATVs before he finally answers.
“I don’t know, Gamer Girl.” He takes off his helmet and looks out to where Tess is, climbing out of the ATV so that our guide can show off the old rock formation. To be fair, it’s impressive as hell, covering the forest floor in a twisting, pock-marked surge of
black rock. Tess waves for us to catch up and Parrish frowns. “I have no fucking idea.”
After checking out the lava flow, Parrish and I switch places and I get to drive the ATV up to the top of the butte. The 360-degree views of the Deschutes National Forest would be a real treat if my palms weren’t sweaty, and I wasn’t constantly replaying my conversation with Parrish.
I don’t know, Gamer Girl.
It’s quite clear at this point that he’s putting off his interest in me because of Tess. To protect Tess. She wants us to be siblings, but that’s just not something we’re ever going to be, unfortunately. The thing is, there are billions of fish in the sea, so why did I have to fall for Parrish? Other than Maxx Wright, he’s probably the most unattainable human being on the planet.
Why not someone like … Chasm McKenna?
I wet my lips, hands clenched around the steering as we head back toward the trailhead. As per our guide’s instructions, there’s a decent amount of space between us and Paul’s ATV. In fact, I don’t see him or anyone else as I follow the winding trail toward the road.
For a moment there, I wonder if my wandering mind hasn’t gotten us lost. There was a fork a while back, and though I’m fairly certain I took the correct side, maybe I was confused? Parrish seems checked out, and he certainly isn’t talking to me anymore.
I decide it doesn’t matter; if I got lost, the guide will come and find us eventually. If we just stick to the trails, we’ll be fine.
The sound of another ATV brings me a surge of relief as we crest the next hill. I expect to see Paul and Tess and the guide on the other side of it. Instead, there’s nobody there. A quick glance over my shoulder shows me another vehicle coming up on us quick.
“Pull over and let this douche pass,” Parrish grumbles, his voice barely audible over the roar of the wind. The trails around here are pretty popular, especially in summer, so I figure he’s right. Pull over, let this person go on their merry way so I can keep our chill pace going.