Page 135

Me: What are you talking about? You’re Weston’s mom

704-555-5581: No, honey. I’m not. You are my only child, and I was forced to leave you

Heart palpitations.

I think that’s what’s happening to me. The flutter in my chest works its way up to my throat.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

My hands are too slick to grip my silicone phone case, so I drop it in my lap and stare out the window overlooking the north side of Adonis’ property.

A disbelieving snort turns into a giggle. And I don’t stop until I’m cackling in the living room by myself. Phone buzzing in my lap and the absurdity of it all crashing down on me.

It’s official, I’ve gone off the deep end. It’s finally happened and I’m not fighting it anymore.

Weston is my half-brother?

His mother is dead?

What the fuck is my life and why are there so many layers of fuckery?

Did my father kill her?

Tipping my head back, I stare at the ceiling until a body fills my line of sight.

Adonis.

He’s home.

How long have I been sitting here and why does that keep happening?

He leans down to kiss me and suddenly my world doesn’t seem so upside down.

When he walks around the couch to sit with me, I lift my head and ignore the crick in my neck.

“I got you something on my way home from the office.” He holds up a gift bag, but the boyish smile on his lips slips when he makes eye contact with me. “You okay?”

The lump in my throat only allows me to nod.

“What happened?”

“I talked to Elodie today.” Fuck. I can’t even call her my mom.

“And?”

His earnestness crushes my heart. He’s expecting bad news. Because it’s me. And I refuse to play into it. I don’t want him to always feel like he’s pulling me off a ledge. I can figure this one out on my own.

So, I twine my fingers in his locs and let a smirk tease my lips. A softness transforms his demeanor almost instantly.

His nose wrinkles.

His cheeks lift.

And the line between his brows smooths.