The stream of water hit me in the face, and Jared released my neck to shield his head from the cold attack while I rolled off of him. We wiped the water out of our eyes and sat up, glaring at the hose-man until we noticed it was Mr. Brandt. And he looked pissed. His khaki shorts were splattered with water, and he had grease stains on his White Sox T-shirt.
“Your parents are seeing each other.” He spoke low, a hundred-pound weight in every word. “Worst case scenario they break up. Best-case scenario, you’re stepbrothers.”
“So?” I blurted without the good sense to shut up.
He threw down the hose and yelled, “So what are you fighting about?”
I swallowed, my mouth gone dry.
Yeah, I forgot about that part. Jared and Jax were already my brothers as far as I was concerned, but having our families connected like that might be pretty cool.
Unless the marriage didn’t work out. Which with my father’s history was damn well possible.
But on the other hand, his marriages probably failed because of his affair with Jared’s mom. Now that they could be together, it might be forever.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled.
Standing up, I couldn’t look at any of them, but I knew they were all looking at me. Why the hell did I attack my best friend? I had called his mother a slut, for crying out loud.
All of Jared’s shit while Tate was in France came back. He’d missed her. He’d loved her, even though he hadn’t known it then. And he had been withering away without her. He fought. He drank. He screwed.
And none of it made him feel any better.
So why was I screwing up my life for a chick I didn’t even love? Who didn’t even deserve my attention?
I could understand Jared losing control of himself for Tate. She was a good girl, and she fought for him. And when that didn’t work, she fought against him. She never stopped showing him that she was there.
But Fallon wasn’t Tate. She wasn’t even in the same league.
All of this was so stupid. I had no reason to go off the rails just because she popped back into town and fucked with me again.
Holding out my hand, I was relieved when Jared took it. I helped him up, hoping he took that as an apology. Jared and I didn’t need to get all girly. He knew I fucked up, and he knew that I knew it.
“Oh, look.” I smirked. “Fixing your car again? That’s a Ford for you.”
And I walked to my GTO, hearing Tate’s snort behind me.