The Boy I Once Hated: Love & Hate Duet

sixteen years old

Evidently things move fast when you’re head over heels in love. Not two months have passed since that memorable lunch and here we are, walking up the steps to City Hall, about to watch my mom and Curt get married.

It’s unusually chilly for a summer’s day at Thatcher’s Bay, or at least that’s what Curt has commented. And like the unpredictable weather, everything on the island is still so unfamiliar to me, and I’m not looking forward to getting lost all the time here.

We’d gotten ready for the wedding at his house—I guess our house now. Or it’s about to be. After the ceremony and small lunch they have planned, my mom and Curt will leave for a short honeymoon at a bed and breakfast a few hours away. As they do that, movers will pack our house on the mainland and bring it to Curt’s house here on the small island.

I shiver as I walk through the hallways of Curt’s place, wondering how my mother can even stand to step foot inside it. There are traces of his first wife everywhere. In the candles scattered around as decorations, and the cozy throw blankets placed on the couch. The warm woven rugs in front of all the places a person would stand and yearn for comfort. There are even some pictures of her on the wall. The first time Curt walked us down the upstairs hallway to show us the rooms we’ll be sleeping in, I caught a glimpse of one of their wedding pictures still hanging on the wall. When Curt saw me staring at it, he flushed a thousand shades of red and grabbed it from the wall, dropping it off in his room before we resumed the tour of his house. Not that the tour took very long. I’m sure as a commercial fisherman he did alright, and with my mom’s contribution, everything will be comfortable, but the house definitely doesn’t resemble a manor.

Thankfully, I’ve been given my own room. The only drawback is that Noah’s room is right across from mine. The previous guest room will be Daisy’s. Not that she’s too happy about it since mom and Curt’s room is right across from hers. But instead of complaining, like I know she’s dying to, she agrees to occupy the room, saying she won’t bitch about it on Mom’s wedding day.

I, on the other hand, am itching to complain about mine and would trade with hers in a heartbeat if I thought it wouldn’t seem suspicious.

I don’t know what my life will be like with Noah living in such close proximity to me at all times. I haven’t seen him once since that awkward lunch, even though Curt has been to our place a few times and we’ve come to the island for two more dinners. He always makes excuses for Noah’s absence, but it’s not like we can’t read between the lines—his son is doing everything he can to avoid us.

Now, any time I want, I can stare at his closed bedroom door, wondering if he’s in there, hiding away. I know I won’t forget the look on his face when his dad announced his intention to marry my mom. Clumsily, I trip on the stairs leading up to City Hall, jarring me out of my deep thoughts. Daisy snorts next to me, lifting an eyebrow teasingly, knowing my clumsiness must have been provoked by me being lost in my head, as usual.

She’s dressed in a light pink sheath dress accented with a thin, dark brown belt, holding mom’s bouquet in her hands, a collection of white roses, forget-me-nots, and pink Gerbera daisies. She looks much more demure than usual with her hair pulled back in an elegant chignon and pearl studs in her ears. Usually Daisy’s free spirit is reflected in her clothing, her hair loose and wild, and her clothes a million different styles depending on how she’s feeling on that day. Today she’s dressed so proper that if you ignore the hint of crazy in her gaze, you’d believe she was the epitome of calm and tranquility.

I’m dressed in a matching outfit, but my hair is half up half down. Unlike Daisy, this outfit is pretty normal to how I dress on a daily basis, prim and proper…nothing that stands out. Of course, if given the choice, I always feel more comfortable in a hoodie or a simple t-shirt and shorts. However, I doubt my mom would appreciate such attire on her big day.

As I think of her, my eyes land on my mother reaching the top step, and I admire her for a moment. She’s forgone the traditional white wedding dress and instead is wearing a lacy cream-colored cocktail dress that ends at her knees. It shows off her athletic form and perfectly accents her smooth skin. She has an almost fifties style short veil on her head and her hair is pulled back in a loose bun with tendrils framing her face.

She’s gorgeous, her eyes sparkling, and the same rosy hue to her cheeks that has been there from the moment we suspected she met someone.

I haven’t seen any evidence that my mom’s nervous about today. In fact, all I’ve seen is the exact opposite of bride jitters. She keeps glancing at Curt like she can’t believe her good fortune, mimicking the same sappy expression on his face. My new stepfather looks dashing in his navy suit paired with a light pink tie that matches our dresses. Noah hasn’t arrived yet, but if he ever shows up, I assume he’ll be wearing something similar to his father. It’ll only be the five of us at the wedding, but my mother insists that today feels like a celebration. Once we start walking inside the building, I almost trip again, only this time, a strong pair of arms catch me around my waist before I can fall on my face. I flinch when I’m pulled against a hard chest, and it only takes me half a second to know exactly who’s helped me into his arms.

Noah.

I can’t help but inhale the tangy scent of oranges and cinnamon washing over my senses. He quickly lets me go, but I could swear there was a moment where his hands almost seemed to tighten around my waist. I flush as I glance backwards and see him standing behind me, staring forward in annoyance, dressed in an identical suit to Curt’s. His blond hair is falling in his face, and the suit’s a bit wrinkled, like he rolled out of bed and picked it up off the floor, not daring to appear put together for the wedding he didn’t want to attend in the first place.

‘Try to be more careful, princess,’ he drawls as he brushes past me, walking over to where my mom and Curt are talking to someone at the front desk.

Errant goosebumps crawl along my arms from his touch, and I can’t help but greedily watch his form as he smoothly prowls away.

‘Aw, does my little sister have a crush on the asshole?’ Daisy teases, pinching my side.

My blush only grows and I smack her hand away, leveling her with a disgusted glare I hope throws her off the scent. I don’t have a crush. The guy’s about to be my stepbrother, not that that fact alone is a big deal—it’s not like we’ll be blood related—but there is no way I’ll let myself pine over someone I have to live with. Someone who hates me on mere principle alone.

‘Shut up,’ I whisper-yell at her.

Her answering giggle seems to reverberate around the room, making me shift my weight nervously from one foot to the other.

‘It would probably give you lots of great writing material to work with. Can you imagine if you guys ended up fucking? Oh, the juicy chapters I’d get to read if that shit happened!’

‘I can’t believe you,’ I murmur in shock, even though I shouldn’t be so surprised.

This is Daisy we’re talking about, after all. She always has her head in the gutter ninety-nine percent of the time.

Not wanting to feed into her pervy imagination, I move away from her as quickly as I can, practically dashing after Noah still walking towards our parents. I might have been running away from her but I was also running away from the brief flash of lust that pooled in my gut at her words…just imagining them becoming a reality.

My mom gives me a warm smile once I reach them. My cheeks are still flushed, but she doesn’t seem to notice, turning her attention towards Curt and Noah.

“Glad you could make it, Son,’ Curt says quietly in a tired voice that hints to the fights at home I’m sure they’ve been having since the wedding news.

‘No problem,’ Noah replies flippantly. Curt’s eyes practically roll to the back of his head as he stares at the ceiling in a “God help me” kind of way.

‘Noah, I really am so thankful that you’re here,’ my mom says in earnest, but I know her heartfelt words are lost on him.

Her attempt is met with nothing but silence. Noah must realize that it’s the most effective weapon he holds, making Mom fidget with the lace on her dress nervously as it deepens.

“Here you go, sir,” the receptionist interrupts, cutting through the tension of the moment.

‘Thank you,’ Curt tells her, reaching to take the wedding license she’s holding out for him.

‘If you go sit in those chairs over in the corner, someone will be with you shortly to take you before the judge,” she continues, looking frazzled with her curly brown hair sticking up everywhere and the glasses on her face in desperate need of a good cleaning. Daisy makes it to us finally, evidently deciding to amble around the room before coming over. I decidedly keep my gaze away from hers, knowing she isn’t done with her teasing. Not yet, anyway.

We make our way over to the chairs, and Curt pulls my mom onto his lap, eliciting a scoff from Noah. His cheek is pulsing and I wonder how everyone is missing the rage in his blue gaze. He’s clearly not even close to being ready to forgive their indiscretion. Not that I really blame him. I’ve tried to put myself in his position, thinking about how I would feel if the roles were reversed, and I’ve come to the conclusion that his rage is warranted.

Which doesn’t bode well for the happy couple.

It doesn’t bode well for me either if he makes their marriage hell and things end up falling apart because of it.

Daisy fidgets about on her phone, I’m sure passing the time by talking to the forty million people that follow her every move on social media. She takes a selfie and I know she’ll add some witty phrase to the post alongside her pic. Probably something about being a “lady in the streets and a freak in the sheets.” I laugh softly to myself and Noah stares at me, shooting me a glare that tells me he thinks I’m an idiot.

My quiet grin fades and I find myself wishing that I hadn’t left my phone at home. I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea. I was probably trying to be the dutiful daughter once again, and making sure that I was giving my mom the attention she would want.

I’m an idiot.

Glancing at her, I’m not sure she can even remember she has daughters right now. Not when her eyes are set on her groom to be.

Time stands still as we wait. It seems to take forever before a woman in hot pink sky high heels and a tight black dress opens the door a few feet away from us.

‘Are you the Fontaine family?’ she asks in a bored voice. My chest flips at the name. Not that it has been discussed, but I have no intention of ever being adopted by Curt. Which means that in a few short hours, I’ll be an Ames and my mother will be a Fontaine. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

My mother doesn’t seem to be struggling with her name change judging by the way she eagerly hops off Curt’s lap. For a second, I worry that they’ll break out in a sprint in their eagerness to form their union.

‘Yes, we are,’ my mother comments excitedly, confirming my suspicions from a moment ago. Curt wraps his arms around her and presses a kiss to the side of her neck.

‘Blah, their cuteness is going to make me sick,” huffs Daisy next to me, shaking her head. I know she’s not actually disgusted though. Even if the idea of marriage absolutely terrifies her, she’s happy for our mother. She told me as much the other night.

“I think Mom gets happier every day,” Daisy muses, lying on her back beside me on my bed.

“Yeah, I know. It’s pretty crazy, isn’t it? Just the other day, I caught her dancing in the kitchen. Literally dancing. Like she’s turned into a Disney princess overnight. I half expected birds to come swooping in the open window and start talking to her.”

“I wouldn’t have been surprised if they had.” She chuckles. “I always dreamed about her meeting someone, but I never could quite picture what it would be like. I have to admit that it makes me happy to see her so happy. You know?”

“Yeah,” I whisper, but my insides are churning. In a few days, we’ll be moving out of our family home and starting a whole new life with strangers.

‘Don’t be scared, Sky,’ she murmurs like she can read my mind as I stare at the ceiling in the darkness, my mind racing with all the changes yet to come.

‘I’m not,’ I huff, before sighing deeply.

She laughs softly, and even though I can’t see her, I know she’s shaking her head, a fond smile on her lips.

‘Think of it as an adventure, or like you’re the heroine in one of your stories, setting off to become the new queen of the high school.’

I think I’d written a story about that once, but the idea that it could actually come true in real life is beyond laughable.

‘Do you think the school there will be similar to the school here?’ I ask, keeping my voice quiet even though my mom’s on night shift and there’s no one in the house but us. It’s a strange thing, really, the tendency of humans to whisper in the dark, like we’re afraid there’s something out there we can’t see that’s going to take our confessions for themselves.

‘No,’ she responds. ‘It’ll be small. Everyone on the island goes to the same high school, but even then I’m sure it will feel small compared to our school.’

That was probably a safe assumption. There were seven thousand people at our high school, and it felt like that. But I’d always liked it because it made it easier to disappear. When there were that many people crammed in the hallways, you couldn’t focus on anyone other than the “bright lights” of the school. And I had never been one of those bright lights. But Daisy had. For her, the whole world was a stage. I wondered if the intangible quality that she always seemed to hold–to grab life around the neck and make it her own–would stretch to this new school as well.

‘You’ll probably have to talk in class there. There won’t be fifty people crammed into one classroom. Half of that at best. And you just know they’ll make you introduce yourself on the first day. So be ready for it. I will.’ She laughs to herself, probably imagining her grand entrance, an invisible crown already on her head as she deems herself queen of this new school.

My thoughts instantly turn to Noah, wondering what he’s like walking those same halls.

‘God, I hope there’s lots of hot island guys to play with. I mean, if push comes to shove, I can still go for the teachers, but it would be nice to have a few hot guys my age to corrupt.”

‘Daisy,’ I chastise, my mind instantly flipping to the rumor I heard about my sister and one of the football assistant coaches at our current high school.

She’d been dating the quarterback of the team at the time those rumors had spread around, but she hadn’t seemed the least bit ruffled about them. I’m not sure why I never asked her if they were true or not. I guess it’s because I was afraid of what her answer would be.

‘It’ll be good to have a fresh start,’ she whispers more seriously.

I want to agree with her. I want to think that things could and will be different. But I’ve always hated lying to myself.

‘I wonder what Dad’s going to think about all this.’

‘Who the fuck cares,’ Daisy scoffs.

While I’ve always made sure I was available when our dad deigned to give us the smallest hint of attention, Daisy isn’t quite so agreeable. Which is kind of strange because I feel like they are both cut from the same cloth. Of course, unlike our dad, Daisy is infinitely more loyal to the people she truly cares about. No one can deny there’s the same wildness about them, a devil-may-care attitude that Daisy certainly didn’t get from our mom. Still, my sister has never been a fan of our father. Maybe when two people are too much alike they end up repelling each other, unable to stomach seeing their flaws staring back at them.

‘Get some sleep, Sky,’ she orders, no longer in the mood to talk now that I brought up our dad.

Instead of going back to her room, she makes herself comfortable in my bed. I don’t ask her to leave, since I kind of like her being here when Mom is on a night shift. It doesn’t take long for her soft breaths to echo around the room. Meanwhile, I continue to lie here, staring at the ceiling for answers I’ll never get tonight.

‘Sky,’ Daisy hisses, and I blink as I stare at her, realizing that I’ve walked into the courtroom with everyone without even realizing I was doing it. However, I must have stopped halfway across the aisle, while everyone else had made their way to the front to stand in front of the judge.

My mom didn’t seem to notice though, since she’s too preoccupied holding hands with Curt and staring lovingly into his eyes. I wonder how long it’ll take before she sees us again. How long will the haze of lust and love cloud her vision to anyone but him? Is that what love does? Makes you forget everyone in existence after you’ve met the one? Lose yourself in him so completely that you can’t focus on all the other things that matter to you? If that’s love, then maybe we’re all better off without it.

Begrudgingly, I hustle over and take my spot next to Daisy, staring at the thread-worn carpet that needs to be updated. As a throat clears, I glance up to find Curt now staring over his shoulder at Noah, who, of course, is on his phone.

‘Son,’ he states exasperatedly.

Noah lifts his phone, clicking the camera, and signaling he’s taking a picture.

‘Just trying to capture the moment. Who knows how many of these you’ll get.’ Curt turns back to the judge, shaking his head, right as Noah whispers under his breath, “Mom is probably rolling in her grave. Hope you’re fucking happy.’

I was apparently the only one paying close enough attention to him to hear his whispered comment, because there’s no shocked inhales. Curt never even flinches at the remark.

When the judge starts speaking, I try to concentrate on his words, instead of appearing dumbfounded that everyone is so wrapped up in this wedding that they don’t pick up on the somber vibe Noah is giving off. While Curt and Mom hold each other’s hands tightly, gazing dreamily into one another’s faces, Noah hangs his head, returning to his phone. As the judge talks about true love, my attention keeps straying to Noah, who’s typing feverishly on his phone. It’s only when his hand tilts that I realize he’s playing Candy Crush.

Well, okay then.

“Clara, will you please repeat this vow after me,” the judge announces.

“I, Clara, take you, Curt, to be my husband. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health. I promise to love and cherish you for all of my days,” my mom repeats.

A tear trails down her face and I feel the same moisture building in my eyes. I’m not sure that I’m experiencing quite the same mix of emotions as she is at the moment…but there’s definitely some happiness built in for her along with everything else.

“I, Curt, take you, Clara, to be my wife. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health. I promise to love and cherish you for all of my days,” repeats Curt, his voice trembling with his own emotion.

Unable to stop myself, I glance at Noah again, wondering if he’s turned his attention to his dad at all in this defining moment. But nope, he’s still intent on finishing his game.

I guess we can all be glad he deigned to put his phone on silent so we don’t have to hear the irritating music of his game.

It’s time to exchange rings when I turn my attention back to the happy couple. Daisy is handing Mom Curt’s wedding band. Curt clears his throat in annoyance as he holds out his hand to Noah, presumably waiting for him to hand over Mom’s ring.

“Here you go,” Noah drawls, his gaze filled with displeasure as he drops the blue velvet box in his father’s hand.

Curt’s eyes flash at Noah’s insolent tone, but he says nothing as he takes the ring from Noah’s hand and gives him a tap on his shoulder. I can tell it’s a little heavier than a friendly clap would be, but from the little I know of Noah, he’s probably done or said something that deserves a smack upside the head by his father, so I’m impressed with Curt’s restraint.

Noah turns back around towards my mom, and I watch as his hands clench into fists, so hard that his knuckles turn white. His face is an almost green color, and the disinterest in his gaze has faded to one of…abject sorrow.

And still…I’m the only one who seems to notice.

I wonder if that happens a lot to Noah, that the world sees one face and completely misses the other.

Maybe we’re both actually not seen…only in different ways.

He brushes a tendril of perfect golden hair out of his face, and I almost take back my thought.

Who could ever not notice him?

“You may now kiss the bride,” the judge proclaims, his words bringing my attention back to where it should be. For being practically a stranger, Noah seems to occupy my thoughts much more than I would like.

I need to get a handle on that.

My new stepbrother doesn’t deserve my attention unless he earns it.

And thus far, it doesn’t seem like he does.

Curt dips my mom in a dramatic, Hollywood style kiss, and when their lips finally detach, she has a dark, attractive flush to her cheeks. She looks happier than I’ve ever seen her. Truly, blissfully happy.

I smile when my mom peers over at Daisy and me, gratitude that we’re here to celebrate her big day plastered all over her face. But the instant she turns away and is once again distracted by her new husband, I slip outside the courthouse and don’t stop walking until I’m breathing in the sea-tinged air.

Change.

It’s here.

I’ve spent so much of my time avoiding it, and yet it’s come for me anyway. I’ll be starting a new school in just a few days, living on an island that is completely foreign to me, and spending my time in a house that doesn’t feel like mine.

Will this new life, with all these chances, be exactly like my old one?

Will I be a perpetual wallflower once again?

Or maybe the better question is do I want to be anything other than that?

For a second, I have the alien urge to scream out my frustration and anxiety to the whole world. I want everyone to hear how conflicted and angry I am that I feel so powerless to all these new unexpected changes. The urge passes though, and I allow my despair to slip back into the cracks of my heart where I usually keep it locked up tight.

I hear the heavy double doors open behind me, and a second later, Daisy’s standing next to me.

“What are you doing out here? Brooding?” she asks lightly, playfully nudging her shoulder with mine, even though I can hear the concern in her voice.

I immediately feel the urge to deny I’m brooding, but I let it pass and actually tell the truth for once.

“Sometimes my head…it’s too much,” I whisper softly.

“I feel that, babe,” she responds, and my fierce, take the world by the balls sister actually sounds…sad.

I quickly glance at her but there’s no sign on her pretty features of the pain I just heard. She pretends not to see my bewildering stare, and lightly socks me in the arm instead.

“Let’s go back in there and meet up with the fam. Everything will be okay. You’ll see.”

I follow her inside, but all the while I can’t help but think that Daisy lied to me.

The newlyweds have planned a lunch after the ceremony, ironically at the same restaurant where our lives changed forever. I’m not sure I would have ever picked such a themed place for my wedding reception, but here we are.

The restaurant reserved the giant room in the back for the occasion, even though it’s only the five of us again. We settle in and take our respective seats around the table. The whole ambience is a little awkward since the only people talking are Mom and Curt…and that’s to each other.

Noah’s tie is hanging loosely around his neck, and the bored expression has returned as he continues to play Candy Crush on his phone. Daisy’s also tapping away on her phone, leaving me to stare at the ceiling, idly wondering who painted all the “As” up there, tangled amidst the fishing net decor.

“Why did you pick this place to have your reception, Mom?” I ask curiously, thinking that my shrimp salad hadn’t been anything to write home about the last time we were here.

“This was where Curt and I went for our first date on the island,” my mother coos dreamily, as if it was the most romantic thing ever.

Daisy and I shoot each other a look, and there’s mirth sparkling from her gaze.

“Hmm, that’s interesting, isn’t it? Since this was where I believe he took my mother for her first date as well,” Noah remarks casually, freezing the air in the room. “How unoriginal.”

Curt shifts awkwardly in his seat while my mother’s cheeks flush; this time it’s not with happiness but with utter embarrassment.

“I’m sure we’ll make a lot more good memories here then if it has such a rich history,” Daisy gently inserts, coaxing thankful smiles from Curt and Mom. “Makes sense why you would want to celebrate here. It has meaning. I think that’s pretty damn original to me.”

Noah huffs in annoyance, but whatever vitriol he had built up in the tank is cut off by the entrance of our server—the same one he flirted with last time we were here together.

All glimmers of resentment and pouting fade from Noah’s features as her gaze immediately flits to his. She stutter steps for a moment before glancing over at Mom and Curt, who I’m sure she’d been apprised were celebrating their wedding.

“Hello again,” she squeaks, and I’m getting déjà vu.

This place really is the gift that keeps on giving.

“A bottle of champagne for the table,” announces Curt before Noah can begin flirting—which I can tell by his upturned lips and heavy lidded gaze is definitely going to happen.

“Alright! Now that’s what I’m talking about!” cheers Daisy. “I knew I liked you, Curt.”

Mom rolls her eyes since we definitely have a no alcohol for minors policy at our house…or at least we had a strict ‘don’t let me ever find out’ policy. Daisy has been partying for at least a few years, and I know she’s snuck in drunk quite a few of those nights.

“Only a sip.” Mom smiles, but it’s obvious she’s too happy to really care if we do more than sip.

“Of course,” the waitress responds, appearing eager all of a sudden. The way she rushes from the room gives me the feeling they don’t have very many of those requests here, even though champagne is the first thing listed on the drink menu.

There’s a long, uncomfortable silence after she leaves, until Curt clears his throat.

“Anything you girls need for moving in to make things more comfortable?” he asks sincerely.

It’s almost weird to see him being genuinely nice. My father’s kindness comes with strings. Usually, he’s only nice when he wants something or is making up for all the times he’s disappointed my sister and me.

It never works because we can obviously see right through it, even if we don’t call him out on it. Scratch that. Even if I don’t call him out on it. Daisy isn’t shy about throwing it in his face. The many visits he’s missed over the years have resulted in quite a few random gifts. Daisy doesn’t even so much as open the wrapped presents, throwing them in the trash immediately. But I keep everything. Because a gift from him is better than nothing when you’re desperate for a father to love you.

“I mean, if you’re offering, I’d love a car,” Daisy teases, wondering just how far Curt will go to win our affection.

“Daisy!” my mother admonishes, eyes wide in mortification.

Daisy and I burst out in a fit of giggles since one of our favorite games is seeing how exasperated we can make our mother in public.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Curt promises, putting an end to our laughter when he actually appears serious.

My sister’s eyes almost glaze over at the thought she can actually win a car out of this marriage, but before she has time to say something, one of Noah’s trademark scoffs sounds in the room.

“I’m going to take a piss,” he announces angrily before jumping from his chair, almost sending it toppling to the floor, and striding out of the room.

Silence descends once again with his retreat. Curt stares after his son, frustration and annoyance written all over his face with each step he takes. It’s only when Noah disappears that Curt finally sighs.

“I’m sorry about that, girls. Noah…is having a rough time.”

“As anyone would if they lost their mom,” I respond coldly, surprising everyone with my slip of the tongue, including myself.

I have no idea why I’m defending him, but it seems like Curt expects Noah to be over it already…like he seems to be. And that’s not fair at all. If you truly love someone, and you lost them, the pain never goes away. Grief isn’t something you can simply switch off, and asking someone to get over such loss when it’s no longer convenient for you is not only selfish…but purely shitty.

Which makes me wonder how much Curt loved his first wife in the first place.

“I’m going to use the restroom too,” I say quietly, not liking the edge of disappointment in my mom’s gaze, like I’ve done something wrong.

I hurry out of the room and head towards the bathrooms, not really having to pee, but needing a break.

I push open the door to the ladies room, coming to a screeching, surprised halt when I see Noah in there, leaning against the wall across from the mirrors, his gaze half-lidded in pleasure as our waitress kneels on the floor in front of him…

Sucking his dick.

I can’t take my eyes off the scene. The girl either didn’t hear me come in or doesn’t care, because her pace never falters. Maybe she’s simply happy to get the chance with a god like Noah and doesn’t want to lose it…even if she has an audience.

The girl might not be paying me any attention…but Noah is.

His head tilts towards me, his gaze focused on my face, a smug grin tugging on his beautiful lips. I stand there paralyzed as he threads his fingers into the waitress’ hair, pulling her to meet his punishing tempo. His eyes never falter away from me as the girl slurps and gags on his cock. But her skill in giving him a blowjob isn’t what has me at a loss for words. It isn’t what has me frozen to my spot, unable to move. It’s his smile.

He’s enjoying this.

He’s enjoying putting on a show for me.

He’s enjoying putting on a show for his new stepsister.

And worse…I’m enjoying it too.

My heart feels like it’s about to break through my chest with how hard it’s beating. My skin is flushed and I feel…achy. Something I’ve never felt before.

“That’s it, little slut, suck my big fucking dick.”

My gaze widens at the fact he calls her a slut but her tempo doesn’t change. In fact, by the way she moans out it’s as if it’s her favorite thing to be called.

I should run away. I really should. I have no idea why my feet refuse to move, or why my eyes remain locked with his, but here we are, connected in the most sordid of ways.

“Such a good little slut.”

The way he grunts out those words, it’s almost like they are meant for me.

Daisy had talked to me about blowjobs before, how there was no end to what you could get from a man once you mastered them. I’d listened avidly, a blush to my cheeks that she teased me mercilessly about. Evidently, Daisy was one such master.

But she had mentioned one thing that stuck with me now as Noah yanks on the girl’s hair so hard I’m surprised she’s not crying out in pain. Daisy preferred to be warned before a man came in her mouth.

Noah gives no such warning. His face scrunches up in euphoric bliss as he cums. His moan echoes around the room so loudly I’m sure the whole restaurant heard him.

And through it all…he stares at me. His gaze burns into me like he’s trying to reach inside me and yank my heart out.

The girl gulps on his dick. Literally gulps, like she’s just finished working out and she’s desperate for water. Except the water in this case is, of course, his cum.

She finally slides off his dick and stares up at him desperately, like it’s been a privilege for her to offer him that service. As if her grateful submission is my cue to leave, my feet finally regain the ability to move. Not wanting to stay for the second act of the show, I yank my gaze away from his and haul ass out of the bathroom.

I’m a different person when I enter the room where my mother is beaming with love. I collapse in my seat, shaking slightly. Daisy shoots me a confused look, and knowing her, this is the exact little bit of gossip she would love to hear about. And before this very moment, I would have told her. Immediately.

Because I tell her everything.

But for some reason, all I do is give her a reassuring smile, smooth my hair down, and pretend to study my dinner eagerly.

And when Noah walks in, I don’t dare glance at him once.

But I can feel his gaze on me for the rest of the fucking night.