Seducing Mr. Grumpy

18. Denial. [Part 2]

"Why did you do that?" I ask my father.

"She skipped the annual checkups while we were gone. She needs to know that’s not something to mess with. I only ask one thing from her, so..."

I nod, understanding.

"She told me she did them."

"She lied to you, Dom," he sighs, maybe worried, but then sees Summer next to me and smiles warmly. "Summer, darling, how long has it been?"

"Five years, Mr. Pauls," she smiles back. "I brought these for your wife, but she..."

"Ah, she’s probably giving Heaven an earful. I’ll take them for her, though you didn’t have to go to the trouble," he says, accepting the flowers.

"It’s no trouble."

"Aren’t you going to say hi?" he asks, looking at me.

I roll my eyes.

"Dad," I say, stepping closer and giving his shoulder a quick, impersonal pat.

"Damn, Dom, so much affection," I laugh when he pulls me into a side hug, holding me tight. He looks a bit surprised by the sound of my laughter. "You look different, son," he says, glancing suspiciously from Summer to me. "Is something finally happening between you two?"

I choke on my own saliva as she lets out a nervous laugh.

My father stares at us, unbothered, like he’s presiding over a court case, trying to determine if the accused is telling the truth.

"Oh, I see my parents," Summer says, motioning toward the side of the house. "I’m going to say hi."

And just like that, she’s gone, leaving me to do the explaining.

I turn to my father with a frown, certain his question made her uncomfortable.

"Did you have to be so reckless?"

"But that’s the best way to get the truth," he says, a particular gleam in his eyes. "So don’t bother giving me an answer, I already got it."

And he walks off, his words still playing in my head.

|…|

Everyone is outside in the garden—some men are at the grill, a few people are in the pool, others just gathered around, chatting comfortably. I’m standing off to the side, frowning, replaying Dad’s words in my head and thinking about the argument with Summer in the car.

It's already shaping up to be a bad day.

I flinch when my sister sits beside me, resting her head on my shoulder, and I know exactly why she’s being affectionate.

"You know that doesn’t work on me. You lied."

"I’m sorry."

"Routine checkups are important in this family, Heaven. You can’t be part of it and skip that shit."

"I’ll do them soon," she says, conciliatory. "Don’t argue with me, not today. I already had enough with Mom."

"She’s mad?"

"Furious," she sighs. "Dad has a big mouth."

"You can’t mess around with your health."

"Look who’s talking—the one who needs a babysitter to remind him to eat."

"Yeah, but I actually do my checkups," I say.

"Not again," she groans, pulling her head off my shoulder and giving me a playful shove full of annoyance.

I shake my head—there’s no fixing her. She’s reckless, always has been. Her relationship with Anson has mellowed her a bit, but as a teenager, she drove me insane.

"What about Summer?" she asks.

"She’s in the kitchen, helping with dessert."

"I love her. That girl can’t stay still for a second."

"We have staff for that. She should be out here, relaxing."

Truthfully, I don’t mind her being in the kitchen. I know she enjoys it. What bothers me is the nagging feeling she’s avoiding me. Things were already strange between us before, the car fight didn’t help, and Dad’s bluntness just pushed everything further. I feel like we’re climbing higher and higher toward an inevitable climax that scares me.

I sigh.

"Life’s funny, isn’t it?"

"What do you mean?" I ask her.

"Since we were kids, you used to avoid Summer like she was the plague. Now you live together, and I catch you practically f*****g on the couch."

"We were not f*****g," I growl.

"Oh please, you should’ve seen your faces when I walked in."

"You don’t know what you’re talking about."

"I suspect you don’t either."

I open my mouth, but close it again. Speechless.

The truth is, I don’t know. I have no idea what’s going on.

"Have you ever wondered why you’ve spent your whole life running from Summer?" my sister asks, resting her head on my shoulder again.

"No," I reply curtly.

She chuckles, like she expected that answer.

"Since you were a kid, you’ve hated things that don’t make sense, that don’t come with explanations."

"And Summer has never made sense or had logic to me."

"No, Dom, it’s not Summer. It’s what you feel for her that’s never made sense or had logic."

Her words hit like a punch, making me draw back and stare at her in disbelief. I start shaking my head, over and over.

"What are you talking about?"

But she smiles at me softly, a kind of softness that’s not usual for Heaven—not for my sister.

"Remember, I’m your twin. I know you better than anyone... When you’re ready to hear what deep down you already know, come find me. I’ll help you understand."

"I don’t—"

She subtly nods her head toward a couple walking our way.

"I’ll leave you. Your future in-laws need a word."

And she’s gone, heading toward Aunt Tessa by the pool with her husband—Mom’s best friend—and diving in with them. I want to get up, follow her, demand answers so I can deny them, but then a man takes the seat beside me.

"Dominic," says Aaron, Summer’s father, pulling his wife onto his lap.

"Aaron," I nod.

He clenches his jaw. I’ve refused to call him Mr. Cooper since I was a kid, which I know has always annoyed him. Dad taught me that. At first we did it to piss him off, then it just stuck. Now he’s just Aaron to me. Disrespectful? Maybe. But I can’t change it now.

"Dominic, look at you. You’ve gotten so handsome," Summer’s mom says, beaming at me.

Aside from her eyes, Summer is the spitting image of her mother. So looking at Mrs. Cooper is like seeing Summer’s future, which makes my heart ache painfully.

Why?

No f*****g idea.

"Mrs. Cooper, you look stunning too," and it’s true—she’s a beautiful woman.

"Stop flirting with my wife," Aaron snaps. "Let’s get to the point. Has something happened between you and my daughter?"

"Aaron," his wife chides him.

"They’ve been living together for over a month. I’m not stupid. I let my daughter think I am, for the sake of her independence, but I’m not," he says, locking eyes with me. "Is there something going on between you two? Yes or no?"

"So what if there is?" Mrs. Cooper interjects. "They’re adults. They don’t owe us explanations. Let them be, darling."

"Well, I refuse to share grandkids with Thiago Pauls. Jesus, what kind of karma would that be?"

I feel my face drain of color.

Grand... what?

Mrs. Cooper notices my discomfort and lets out a nervous laugh, then takes her husband's cheek and makes him look at her.

"Shut up already."

"But—"

"You’re scaring the poor boy. Shut your mouth."

Yeah, I hate family gatherings. Especially this one.

Where the hell is Summer?

I need her, or these people are going to drive me insane.

I open my mouth to make an excuse when one of the kitchen staff comes running and shouts, "Miss Summer had an accident!"

I couldn’t describe what I feel in that moment. It’s too overwhelming for words—not even when my mother got sick did I feel this much panic and dread... or maybe I did, but time has dulled the memory.

All I know is—it’s hellish.

I don’t know how it happens, but one moment I’m sitting next to her parents, the next I’m running like a madman, dodging people as I make my way to her.

And there she is, unconscious on the floor, a cut on her hand.

"What happened?" I ask, grabbing a kitchen towel to wrap her wound.

"She cut herself, and then suddenly passed out," an older woman explains as I lift Summer into my arms.

"Blood doesn’t bother me," she once told me during one of our late-night talks in bed, "but my own blood really messes me up."

Shit.

Cradling her against me, I push my way out of the house and head straight to my car. I hear people rushing after me and lots of shouting, maybe Aaron cursing me out, but I don’t stop for anyone.

I need to get her to a hospital.

I place Summer in the back seat, jump into the driver’s side, and take off like the devil himself is chasing me.

I can hear my own heartbeat—erratic, wild, insane. And it gets worse every time I glance back and see her with those beautiful blue eyes shut, blood seeping from her hand.

I speed, ignoring traffic rules, driving like a lunatic toward the nearest hospital.

It feels like a lifetime until I finally get there. I park recklessly and without care. Quickly, I gather Summer in my arms—the car doors left wide open in my rush—and run into the hospital.

"What happened?" a nurse asks, helping me lay her on a stretcher.

"She cut her hand in the kitchen—I think she fainted when she saw the blood."

"Alright," another nurse appears, stopping me as I try to follow. "Please wait here. Let us take a look at her."

"No, I’m going with her."

"Sir—"

"I’m going with her!" I shout, completely losing control.

The nurse signals someone, and soon a burly security guard steps into my path.

"Sir, please, calm down."

"I…" I look around, realizing I’m making a scene, drawing everyone’s attention in my desperation.

Shit, who is this man?

I don’t even recognize myself.

"Let me go with her."

"You’re very agitated. Please calm down first."

I run a hand through my hair, a bitter laugh escaping me.

"Agitated? I brought her here unconscious, her blood all over my car. Of course I’m agitated. So get the hell out of my way and let me go with her!"

"Dominic!"

I turn at the sound of my name, surprised to see my parents, Summer’s parents, and my sister rushing into the hospital with worried faces.

[2/3]