I still can’t make myself admit it aloud. Even though he isn’t in the room, it’s like as soon as I say the words, they’ll land on my sleeve for Grip to read. But my silence says it all. I’ve never had to deny my feelings to Rhyson, and I find it harder than when I lie to Grip.
“What the hell?” Rhyson leans back in his seat, resting his head on the back of the chair and staring up at the ceiling. “All these years and you never . . . why?”
“It doesn’t matter what I feel.”
He sits back up, spearing me with the frustration in his eyes. “How can you say that?”
“Because I’m not doing a damn thing about it. That’s why.”
“But if you . . .” He pauses, obviously taking great care with the next word that comes out of his mouth, as he should. “Care about Marlon, and he’s made no secret of how he feels about you, then why not?”
“Weren’t you the main one afraid I would destroy him?” I pinch my brows together. “Seems you’d be the last person encouraging a relationship between poor, vulnerable Grip and your sister the man-eater.”
“What?”
“Oh, please, Rhyson.” I steady my voice for the next words. “Just a few weeks
ago, I overheard you warning him away from me. Telling him that he should pursue Qwest instead. So, don’t act as if Grip and me would be some match made in heaven. You know we wouldn’t be good together.”
Rhyson is quiet for a few moments, studying the clasped hands in his lap.
“I admit there are risks involved.” Rhyson looks up at me from beneath his dark brows. “I have been concerned that you might hurt him.”
“It never once occurred to you that he might hurt me?” A bitter laugh darkens the air around me. “That maybe he had already hurt me and I wasn’t willing to risk my heart being broken?”
“You mean the stuff with Tessa? It wasn’t his baby, Bris.”
“It could have been.” I shake my head and twirl my chair away from him to face the view through my window. “That wasn’t even the point. He lied to me. He never once mentioned he was in a relationship that whole week we were . . .”
Together. To even think of us as “together” pains me.
“Whatever we were doing that week,” I finish lamely. “If he would cheat on Tessa, he’d cheat on me.”
Rhyson comes to stand in front of me, propping himself against the windowsill.
“You think Marlon would cheat on you?” Rhyson looks at me disbelievingly. “He was a kid!”
“He hasn’t exactly been chaste since.”
“Neither have you,” Rhyson tosses back. “You can’t hold anyone he’s been with against him when you weren’t together, Bris. That’s ridiculous.”
“You say that so easily because you’d never cheat on Kai.”
“Of course I would never cheat on Kai.” He looks offended that I even brought it up. “I couldn’t.”
“Well you’re the exception to the rule. Most men have no trouble cheating.” A laugh sours in my mouth. “Our father certainly doesn’t.”
“What did you say?” Rhyson peers at my face like he’s never seen me before. “Dad cheats on Mom?”
“Oh, God, Rhyson.” I lean back in my seat, part horrified, part relieved that he knows. “Yes. Dad cheats.”
“When?”
“When not?” I meet the confusion in his eyes. “Almost since the beginning.”
“I mean, I figured they didn’t have what you would call a typical marriage.” A frown settles on Rhyson’s face. “But I hadn’t thought about . . .”
He shrugs, his expression clearing.