CHAPTER TWO

ON MY FIFTEENTH BIRTHDAY, I met the man of my dreams. Two hours after meeting him, I lost him to my brother. Now, seeing Taylor's predatory sneer, I couldn't help remembering that weird emotional rollercoaster of a day.

I'd skipped school to get ready for my huge birthday party. Mom had organized it and it was going to be perfect. All my friends were coming, so were some older guys from school, my then-crush included. I wanted to look my best, so I'd gotten a trendy haircut, then planned on finding an outfit for the evening.

As I stared at myself in the mirror, I noticed someone behind me. I locked eyes with the guy patiently waiting for me to inspect myself and forgot how to breathe. He was beautiful. Messy dark hair, slightly curled, flopping down on a flawless, naturally tanned face. He had the warmest brown eyes, full lips, and the sexiest scar—one shaped like lightning crossing his left eyebrow. He looked like a runner, lean and strong, his stylish clothes clinging to every muscle in his body.

"Does this look good?" I asked, surprising myself with my sudden bout of boldness.

He smiled and completely shattered me. One thing that had stuck over the years, no matter how I tried to gain immunity to it.

"I'd try that in a warmer shade. It'll look better with your skin's undertone."

I thanked him, or babbled something incoherent, and went to decode the racks to look for a color that would match his suggestion. Five minutes later, I was still staring at that stupid shirt model.

"Can't decide?"

I jumped at the sound of his voice. I opened my mouth to lie but hung my head instead. "What the hell is a warmer shade?"

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and picked out a few options for me. "Try these on and pick your favorite."

"Thanks, you're a life saver."

"What do you think of this?" He extended his arms then turned around, modeling a soft, faux leather jacket.

"You're perfect." I blushed furiously when I realized what I'd said. "I mean it looks perfect on you."

He smiled knowingly. It hadn't been the best of saves. He thanked me anyway and left the store.

I stood there, trapped between my need to follow him and the more logical path of finding a shirt and getting on with my day.

I spent the next few hours regretting my choice. Who needed logic anyway? I might never see that guy again. I should have at least found out his name.

"I'm home," I announced lamely when I arrived at the house I’d grown up in. I was no longer excited about my party. Little did I know, things were only going to get worse.

"In the kitchen," Mom yelled.

I heard other voices coming from the same direction. My dad's deep voice, my brother's, and... another one. New, but familiar somehow. I pushed the door open and the world tilted on its axis, making me dizzy and nauseated. There Taylor was, arm slung around the shoulders of the guy I'd met earlier.

"Hon, meet your brother's boyfriend," Mom said.

"Yeah, this is Parker," Taylor added, sounding bored.

"Hey." I nodded and swallowed hard. I slid my hands into my pockets, avoiding him extending his. It would have been awkward when I was shaking this badly.

"Happy birthday. Nice choice of shirt." He winked, and a fresh wave of nausea hit me when Taylor narrowed his eyes and pulled Parker closer.

"Thanks for your help earlier," I said.

"Do you two know each other?" Taylor no longer sounded bored. And for the rest of my birthday party, he made a point in sticking close to Parker and hogging all his attention.

"You okay?" current-day Parker asked and my memories of meeting him faded.

"Incoming," I muttered, and tightened my grip on him.

Taylor made a beeline for us, dragging his squeeze along. Hand in hand, they stopped inches from us.

"Parker, would you like to meet—"

"Nope, he wouldn't," I said, and moved around them, taking Parker with me.

"We'll both pay for that later, kid." Parker chuckled and put his arm around my waist.

I took in every inch of his face, looking for a reaction, but I only found amusement there. The shadow of sadness from earlier hadn't made a comeback. Maybe Parker was building some resistance to Taylor's poison.

Parker greeted my parents and other relatives, all of them sighing and throwing him pitiful looks. They were better served pitying Taylor. He'd lost something important, not Parker.

I grabbed two bottles of Parker’s favorite beer—I'd made sure to stash it to make his evening more tolerable—and went to find him. Taylor had been faster than me, crowding Parker in a corner, cutting his exits. At least he was alone.

"Got your beer," I said, wiggling the bottle between them.

"Thanks, kid." Parker grabbed it and touched it to mine. "Cheers."

"Come on, there's something I want to show you."

"He's busy," Taylor said, turning his death glare on me.

After twenty-five years of being his brother I was immune to it. "Parker? Do you need a minute?" I kept my eyes on Taylor, meeting him head on as I waited for Parker's reply.

"Not even a second." His clipped words made me cringe. What had Taylor said to him now?

Parker pushed past Taylor and followed me up the stairs. We hurried to the safety of my room, and once in, I shut the door behind us. Privacy didn't mean much to Taylor when he wanted something, so only a lock would keep him away.

"Thanks for that," Parker said, collapsing on my bed.

"I'm sorry. He's a dick."

Parker chuckled and patted the spot next to him. I climbed in and he rested his head on my shoulder.

"It's not your fault he's a dick. Or that I was stupid enough to marry him." He took a long swig from his beer and went quiet.

I itched to ask what Taylor had said. I imagined it had been cruel, designed to rile Parker up. Probably a lie too.

"He said they're moving in together."

I scoffed. "Sure they are. That's what he tells you about everyone he bangs."

"I said as much."

I craned my neck to be able to see him better. "Really? I thought your strategy was to ignore him until he went away."

"Rough day today, I didn't have the patience. I think he might be serious though."

"No way!"

"Yes way." He took another mouthful of beer. "I've seen them around. It's been about a month."

That was indeed longer than normal for my brother. Quick, I had to think of a silver lining. "Maybe he'll let you be now that he's serious about someone."

"I hope he is. I hope he finds what he's looking for. I know he needed something I couldn't give him, I—"

I snatched the beer from his hand and held it away. "Oh, don't you fucking dare! Don't you dare make excuses for his cheating. You might believe you weren't enough. The truth is my brother is a dick and couldn't keep his hands off other men to save his life."

He smiled sadly and motioned for me to hand him the beer back. I did, even if I didn't think he deserved it just yet.

"Whether it was enough or not, there wasn't anything more I wanted to give him."

The choice of words caught me off guard, but I didn't dare ask.

"You've stiffened and you're holding your breath. Just ask the damn question."

Caught in the act, as always. I still wondered how Parker had managed not to figure out how in love I'd always been with him. Not when he seemed to read me like an open book about everything else.

"What did he ask for? I know it wasn't forgiveness."

Parker scratched his cheek and sighed. "He wanted an open relationship. He said it didn't make sense for us to fight every time he fucked someone. He wasn't going to stop, and I was always going to forgive him."

I gasped, amazed by my brother's audacity. Parker had caught him cheating often. The first time, he'd ignored it, after all they'd just started dating. The second time, he’d left town for a month. The most recent affair... well, they'd ended up getting lawyers.

"So you divorced him?"

Parker shrugged. "I took my sweet time deciding, but yeah. I realized I couldn't live with knowing he would never stop hurting me."

I bit my lip before blurting out something heartless. I didn’t think Taylor would stay faithful to anyone.

"It's fine, kid. I know I was insane to hold out hope he'd be satisfied with only me. I caught him often enough, but I suspected it happened a lot more."

I closed my eyes. I knew of at least four guys. I'd never said anything because I had no definitive proof. By guy number four, I'd taken pictures. Somehow, Parker had found out before I could show him. Would he have hated me, had I been the bearer of bad news? I didn't think I could have lived with that.