Stepbrother Inked(53)

And I was completely and utterly unprepared for it.

My body felt weak and sexed up, liquid, languid. I so couldn't handle this right now.

My hands clamped over my mouth as my stepmom took a step back and put a  hand against the wall to steady herself. She was freaking forty-eight  and pregnant. This was so not good.

"Mom," Flor said again, not moving towards her, but not trying to  explain the situation away either. He, like me, knew that it was  probably impossible. How much had she seen?

"Florian," she said, blinking rapidly like she was trying to come out of  a coma. "Abigail. I  …  oh my God." She turned away and covered her own  mouth as I dropped my hands to my sides. I tried to get Flor to look at  me, but his own hands were shaking, and his gaze was hooked on his  mother's face. "Oh my. Oh dear Jesus."                       
       
           



       

"Mom, listen to me," Flor said, still not moving towards her. "Abigail  …   " I waited for his words, suddenly desperate to hear what he had to  say. I watched him clench his fists, run his tongue over his lips, his  piercings. "I'm in love with Abigail."

"Dear Jesus," River repeated, tears blooming in her eyes like  thunderstorms. She looked sharply over at me and I blurted the first  thing I could think to say.

"I'm on birth control."

Crap.

My stepmom's face turned as white as her son's as she leaned against the  glass door behind her. Outside, people passed by on the sun soaked  sidewalk, completely oblivious to what was happening inside this tiny  stairwell.

"You've  …  so you've  …  you two have  …  " You've slept together. The words  were implied; nobody needed to say them. I looked desperately at Flor,  but he was still staring at his mother in shock.

"What are you even doing here?" he asked, voice low, almost accusing.

"The store owner," she gestured weakly towards the wall, towards the  shoe boutique that sat beneath my apartment, "wanted to talk about  …   something." Her voice trailed off and her eyes went glassy for a moment  before she looked up and locked onto my face. Traitor, her expression  said and I couldn't help myself; I glanced away. "How did this happen?"

"For fuck's sake, Mom," Flor snapped, running his fingers through his  hair. "This wasn't an accident, some mistake that can be accounted for  and psychoanalyzed, dealt with. This is  …  " Flor finally paused to look  over at me, and despite the situation, I saw the determination in his  eyes. "This is worth fighting for."

"Art's going to have a heart attack," River whispered, fumbling in her pocket like she was going for her cell. Not yet.

"Wait!" I yelled, but she only pulled out a package of gum, popping a  piece between her lips with the same shaking frenzy I'd noticed when  she'd first gotten with my dad and quit smoking. Her eyes strayed back  to mine, that same wild green as Florian's.

"How long?" she asked, ignoring my outburst.

"Not long," Flor said, but River wasn't looking at him.

"How long?" she ground out between her teeth. Her perfect hair was  coiffed on her head and her shirt hung just right, just enough that it  was impossible to tell if she was showing at all. "How long, Abigail?"

I tried to think up the best way to phrase this. Did I say a week?  That's when we'd made it official. But no. It didn't seem right. Only  complete honesty would work here.

"Since I first met him," I whispered, eyes tearing up. "Since forever. I've loved your son for as long as I can remember."

River choked and turned away, pushing outside and onto the sidewalk.  Flor and I watched as she put her hands on her lower back and leaned  over. He went after her like a shot, putting his arm around her waist. I  watched as River Riley-Sharp, a woman who'd been a helicopter mom to  her son, who loved him more than anything or anyone (except for possibly  my dad), jerked away from my stepbrother and walked a few steps down  the sidewalk. When they disappeared from view, I let my back hit the  wall. I could hear the faint whispers of shouts from outside, but I knew  better than to go after them. If anyone could calm River down, it'd be  her son. The last thing she needed right now was to look me in the face.  A sense of betrayal washed over me, but I shook it off. I couldn't  think like that or I'd break down.

Flor and my love was not a betrayal; it was a blessing. I closed my  eyes, let myself think about last night, how perfect it had been. I  would get through this; I would.

A few minutes later, after I'd finally calmed my breathing down, Flor  burst back in the door, sweeping his fingers through his hair over and  over again.

"She's calling your dad," he told me with a grim look on his face. I  just stared up at him, my entire body going rigid with fear. "She  promised she wouldn't tell him over the phone if we went over to the  house." I swallowed and nodded.

Right now, seeing my dad was literally the last thing I wanted, but I'd  gotten myself into this mess. I would get myself out. Flor and I would  be happy. Keep telling yourself that, Abigail.

Flor reached out a hand covered in ink, and I took it, wrapping my  fingers around his and letting him pull me in against his chest. As soon  as I heard the gentle thump of his heartbeat, I relaxed a little. This  was what I was fighting for, right here, and it was so worth it.



Flor and I drove to our parents' house in silence, hands clasped between  our seats, faces forward. We pulled into the driveway behind River with  no sign of my father's black BMW in sight. Thank God for small  miracles. I was hoping we'd have a minute or two to collect ourselves  before he showed up and stormed in the front door, demanding to know  what the emergency was. Meanwhile, I could sit here and stew and see the  image of Addi's stunned face when I'd run up the stairs and told her.  The goodbye hug she'd given me felt like a send off, like I was on my  way to my own funeral.                       
       
           



       

"We'll survive this," Flor promised, glancing over at me. The words were  nice, but the tone behind them said maybe. I looked over at him and bit  my bottom lip.

"I might," I said, trying to make a joke, "but you might not. You know  my dad keeps all his guns in the house." I smiled, but Flor paled and  then jumped when River's knuckles rapped on his window.

"Come inside," she mouthed and moved off towards the front door.

Flor and I exchanged one more look before following after her. This time, we didn't hold hands.

"What the hell is Gram Gram going to say about this?" River asked as  soon as we set foot inside the house. Gram Gram was Flor's grandmother,  but she treated me like her own grandchild. Hell, half the time I forgot  she wasn't actually related to me. Since she lived in New York, I  hadn't given much thought as to how she'd take the news. Crap.

"We'll deal with Gram Gram later," Flor said, leaning against the wall  and looking sexy as ever with his dark hair, brightly colored tattoos  and piercings. I smiled tightly at him and he returned the expression.  "She survived both strokes she had when she found out about the smoking  and the tattoos," he said, pointing to himself. River wasn't amused.

"There's an explanation for all of this," she mumbled, most likely  searching her brain for possible disorders to apply to the two of us.  Little did she know that no amount of talking would clear Florian from  my head. Trust me, I'd tried. I'd spent years trying to convince myself  that this wouldn't work based on this very scenario  –  telling our  parents. Yet, here I was, standing in the dining room with shaking hands  and a sweaty back. My shirt was already sticking to my skin. Gross.

River whirled around, looking between the two of us.

"When were you planning on telling me?" she asked curtly, sending that  nice, bright shock of betrayal through my body again. "Hmm? When you  moved in together? After you were married? Got pregnant?"

"We didn't want to upset you," Flor said, gesturing weakly at his  mother. The implications hung unsaid in the air between the three of us.  Didn't want to do anything that might hurt our unborn sister. "So  please, calm down before you pass out." Flor stepped forward and put the  back of his hand to his mother's forehead, but she swatted him away. He  pulled out a chair anyway and she slumped into it, looking defeated.  "Mom, I love her," Flor said again, turning my insides to mush. Damn  you. I didn't think I'd ever get tired of hearing it. "Mom."