Stepbrother Untouchable(6)

“Right, sorry,” I say, sliding over so that he can sit next to me. I stare straight ahead as he sits. I can feel my body betraying me already. The heat from his leg under the table is giving me heart palpitations.

“Thought you weren't going to be able to make it,” Pierce says a little tensely to his son.

“Sorry, I was in the library studying. I had my phone off.”

“Well, you missed the big announcement. We were just telling Brynn that Holly and I have gotten married.”

I glance at Nate out of the corner of my eye. I see his eyes widen in surprise.

“Married? I thought you said you'd never get married again.”

“Well, things change. When I met Holly, I just knew. You'll see when you get to know her. She's a special woman.”

I watch my mom glow like a 1000 watt bulb and can't help but smile. It's been a while since I've seen her so happy.

“Yeah, I'm…I'm just…” I watch him struggle for words just like I did. “Surprised. But happy. I'm looking forward to getting to know you better, Holly.”

Wow, that was…kind. Not what the guy I met last night would say.

“Oh, me too, Nate,” my mom replies, looking overjoyed. “And I'm so excited for you and Brynn to get to know each other!”

“Two only children…” Pierce says meaningfully. “You'll have to learn to share.”

My mom laughs and I join in weakly.

“You always wanted a sibling, Brynn! And now you have one! Well, a step-sibling, but still.”

A step-sibling that I've had literally dozens of dirty dreams about. Perfect.

“So, you two have never met, then?” my mom asks, glancing between us. “Pierce and I were so excited when we realized both our kids were juniors here.”

“UVA is my alma mater,” Pierce adds proudly.

“No, we've never met,” I break in quickly. I see Nate eye me for a second before he nods.

“Nope, never met, unfortunately,” he says.

“We thought it best not to tell you guys about us until we knew it would really be forever. I thought it would have just been so awkward for you two if we'd broken up and then you have to keep seeing each other around campus,” my mom explains.

“Yes, that would have been awkward,” Nate says drily, and I know he's thinking that nothing could compare to my own awkwardness last night.

The waitress comes over with the bottle of champagne that Pierce ordered. Dom Perignon, I see as I look at the label. Whoa, he must be loaded. My new stepdad must be loaded. She expertly pops the cork and pours us each an elegant flute, placing the bottle into a wine cooler next to the table.

Pierce takes his glass and raises it. “To a new family,” he says, looking around the table. We all raise our glasses and clink them together. I manage to do so without making eye contact with Nate. The champagne tickles my throat on the way down. I've never wanted to drink a bottle of alcohol more in my entire life than at this moment, but I keep myself to a modest sip.

“So, honey, you told me you had some news, too?” my mom asks, as she puts down her glass.

“Oh, yes, though I don't think I can follow that announcement,” I hedge with a smile.

“Please! You sounded excited on the phone,” she encourages me.

“Well, I got a lawn room,” I reveal. My mom gasps in excitement, but I see Pierce glance quickly at his son.

“I thought you said that they hadn't announced it yet,” he says quietly.

“I…I knew you'd be disappointed. I was waitlisted. It was difficult, juggling two varsity sports, a double major—” Nate replies. I glance at my mom and then between the two men. Nate is looking down at the tablecloth.

“I was selected for a Lawn room, too,” Pierce says, interrupting him and turning to me. “It's an important accomplishment.”

“Thank you…” I say hesitantly. Nate looks so miserable. “Being waitlisted is impressive, too.”

He glances up at me sharply, his eyes flashing. Shit. I heard it, too: pity.

“Well, congratulations, both of you,” my mom breaks in. “I have no idea what I'm going to order! Everything looks so wonderful.” She runs her finger down the menu in front of her. Having grown up in a family of Irish immigrants, my mom has always avoided conflict like the plague, though this time I'm glad for the change of subject.

I decide to order the steak since money doesn't seem to be an issue, and we each order a cocktail in addition to the champagne. Something begins to tug at the back of my brain after the waitress leaves to put in our food orders.

“Pierce, I'm sorry if this is an ignorant question, but were you in office? Your name sounds so familiar.”