Chapter 4 4

Dona’s POV

“I'll go check the door." Mom muttered, wiping her hand with the large towel while I looked on.

When she left, I glanced longingly at the back door of the kitchen. I could grab this opportunity and escape from there, but I knew that would piss my mum off. And I had promised to stay.

At least I was glad she didn't ask me to go check the door, as I wasn't mentally prepared to slap a smile on my face for strangers. I pretended to be busy with the eggs my mum left behind.

Your stepbrother’s coming home.... like that meant anything to me. I had never met him, and I wasn't ready to. I couldn't care less about Peter, let alone whoever he had for a son. I had my own issues to deal with, like getting rejected by the guy I had been secretly obsessed with for weeks. Just thinking about last night made my stomach churn, but I was quick to snap myself back to the present.

He had flirted with me at the bar, he knew I was watching him, he allowed me to fall into that moment, let me think there might be something there.

And then, like the weather which wasn't constant, he tossed me aside with five cruel words: “You’re not really my type.”

I gritted my jaw and poked hard at the eggs.

Before my reaction could spiral into something more dangerous, the door creaked open and it was followed by soft laughter from my mother.

"Oh, Peter!" She was saying. "Stop that!"

“What’s so funny?" I muttered, tilting my head towards the door, but I couldn't see much of anything. Just as I was going to return my attention to the cooker, a yell made me snap my head back to the door.

“Watch your mouth and behave yourself, son!”

Curiosity made me turn off the cooker and with the spatula still in hand, I headed for the living room. And as I stepped out of the kitchen, my entire world slammed to a halt.

Standing in the middle of our living room was none other than August Reynolds.

NO FREAKING WAY.

I blinked rapidly, thinking perhaps I had finally lost my mind. But there he was, wearing a black hoodie with a backpack hanging over one shoulder, the same messy dark hair and brooding expression I had fallen head over heels for. He was the same guy I had watched yesterday score goals on the ice, and then crushed me like I was a joke.

And right now, he wasn’t alone. He was toe to toe with my mother's boyfriend, his own eyes burning with anger.

The both of them were having a silent stand-off in the living room, too stubborn to back down. My mother stood between them with her arms spread like she could keep the two bulls from charging.

No, it could not be. This could not be happening. He could not be the anonymous stepbrother I already detested.

August tossed his head to the side and in that moment, his eyes landed on me. I saw recognition flash in his eyes, and his expression shifted from anger to confusion and finally disbelief.

“Wait.” He raised a hand. “You…”

“You two know each other already?” Mom asked, looking all flustered.

“I—I’ve seen him around school.” I ducked my head as I muttered.

“School?” August huffed. “She’s your daughter?!”

“Yes.” Mother affirmed, her eyes darting between us, but she said nothing.

He shifted his gaze to Peter, his eyes narrowing at his dad. “So that makes us... Step-siblings?”

The room went dead silent at his words. My face flushed so fast that it felt like I had fire under my skin. August turned back to me, and for a long second, neither of us said a word.

“Nope.” He shook his head rapidly. "I can't do this."

My head was spinning so fast, I had to lean against the wall for support before my legs could give out. This was way too much for me to handle. Just yesterday, I was just a girl crushed by a rejection. Today, I was… what? The stepsister of the guy I had been obsessed with since the day he transferred? The same guy who thought I was beneath him?

Was this the universe trying to be cruel with my feelings?

“You knew who I was?” He sounded like he was accusing me.

“No! God, no. I had no idea!”

“Dona, sweetie—" Mom reached out for me.

“Mom, please! This is enough for one day!” I snapped. “You couldn’t even give me a heads-up before today?”

“She didn’t know I was bringing my son until yesterday either,” Peter tried to explain. “Don’t take it out on her, Dona.”

Furiously, I turned around to face him, “I'm speaking to my mother, don't interfere!”

"She's my woman!" Peter retorted. "And you should not speak to me that way!"

"Let's see how you like being here after I whack you and your son with this!" I waved the spatula in his face.

“Dona!" Mom yelled. "Stop talking like that!"

"Then, tell your boyfriend not to order me around!"

“Can we please sit down and talk like normal people?" Mom pleaded. "You all are acting like animals. Sit and let's talk about this!"

August pushed his bag further up against his shoulder and turned around. "Nah, I'm not waiting around for this. I'm leaving."

He hadn’t even twisted the knob when Peter spoke again. His voice was hard and cold, and it stopped August dead in his tracks.

“Well, it’s either you stay under the same roof with me,” he said, “or risk your shot at playing at the national level.”