Read If I Break THE COMPLETE SERIES Bundle Online

Authors: Portia Moore

Tags: #Romance

If I Break THE COMPLETE SERIES Bundle (153 page)

On the ride back, I try to quit replaying the images of nearly kissing Will in my mind. I ignore the excitement that grows within me each second. But thinking about it also makes me terrified and disgusted. Was it just me? Maybe I imagined it all, but as quiet as Will has been, I assume I didn’t.

I stop myself several times from bringing it up in the truck on the way home. It’s stupid. It was just a stupid moment—one of the best almost-moments in my life. All the energy surrounding me, the intensity of being so close to a man I know little about and sharing a pull I’ve never felt with anyone else. Even with all the experimenting I’ve done with Zach, I never felt the same pull toward him I felt today with Will. I’ve never wanted to be closer to another person the way I did today. I try to think of the right words to end this awkward silence and remove the images running in my head, the nervousness in my stomach, the guilt that’s occupying the space between us like a real person.

What the hell is wrong with me? I have to shake this. This is stupid. I can’t have feelings for Will. Not Will. They’re not feelings; it’s a crush. There isn’t any chemistry between us. It was just a tense moment—we both thought we might die on a dilapidated Ferris wheel in the middle of nowhere. I am just psyching myself out.

When I see my hometown’s welcome sign, something I’d dreaded earlier, I perk up a bit. At least now I can take my mind off of what it’s been focused on for the past three hours. I think of what I’ll say to my mother, how pissed she’s going to be, if she’ll play nice since we’ll have company. Maybe she’ll send me to my room. Hopefully more attention will be on Will than on me. They’ll be grilling him, observing him to see if he’s good enough for my perfect sister. The limelight won’t be on me tonight. Its seven thirty, and dinner will most likely be served at eight sharp. That’ll give us both time to shower and clean up before my mother’s guests arrive.

“Are you nervous about seeing your mom?”

His voice jolts me. I haven’t heard it for the past few hours other than him asking me about a turn here or there, and even then it was low and distant. Now it sounds more like the one I’d gotten used to earlier.

“No. Are you?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

“A little more than I thought.” He glances at me with a weak smile.

“I’m sure all her ill feelings will be directed at me,” I say, trying to make him feel better.

We pull up in front of my house. I let out a deep sigh before getting out and walking up our porch, Will not far behind me. My mom opens the door, a frown already on her face.

“It’s about time. Where have you two been? Gia said you should have made it hours ago,” my mother says, dramatically eyeing me without as much as glancing at Will. She’s in full-on dinner-party mode, wearing a white Liz Claiborne dress suit. Her manicured hand taps her gold watch, and her dark hair’s swept up in a bun.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Garten. It was my fault. We got lost on the way in.” Will’s voice is smooth, his words more articulate, and they seem odd coming from the man I’ve been with for the past few hours.

My mom’s frown instantly perks up as her eyes survey him, searching for flaws. William has virtually none. I can see my mom envisioning what a great addition he’ll be to our family portrait. I should be thankful he’s soothed her wrath and taken her scrutiny from me, but I can’t help feeling annoyed. I’d somehow thought Will and I were kindred spirits, the rebels of our clans. But I guess this isn’t Will; this is William.

“Please forgive my manners,” my mother says, her voice warm as she extends her hand.

Will takes it.

“It is so nice to meet you,” she says.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Garten,” he says in
William’s voice.

“Please come in.” She moves from in front of the entrance so that Will and I can pass, but before I follow him, she puts her hand on his back so that they can walk in front of me, of course. “Come, come, sit. I can’t imagine being in such a cramped space for so long.

She doesn’t even glance at me, but I actually prefer her silent treatment.

“It wasn’t bad. Gwen was a great road trip companion,” he says with a fake laugh.

I think it’s fake anyway. I roll my eyes, and my mom shoots me a sharp glare.

“You’re so handsome. My Gia certainly has my taste,” she says jokingly.

“And she’s inherited her beauty from you,” he says.

I want to gag.

“Oh stop,” she says, lightly hitting his hand. “Martin and I have been so anxious to meet you. You have to tell us everything.”

“I’d be glad to. I was hoping to freshen up a bit before dinner if possible though,” he says, sounding foreign to me. I’d never thought of him as a guy who would say “freshen up.”

“Of course! Let me show you to your room so you can get settled. We’ll get acquainted at dinner. I hope you like salmon. Marta’s salmon is to die for,” my mom exaggerates.

Marta is the housekeeper-slash-cook we inherited when Martin became our stepdad. Having someone cook and clean for us seems so pretentious. When my dad was alive, we shared chores, and he and I cooked. Now Marta controls the kitchen as if it’s her own personal kingdom.

“I love salmon,” William says enthusiastically.

We follow her upstairs, and she shows him the guest room and points out the extra bathroom he can use. She also tells him there’s a phone so he can let Gia know he’s made it. He thanks her before we leave him, and as soon as his door shuts, my mother scowls.


We
have much to discuss, young lady, but I won’t let you ruin this night. I laid out a dress for you on your bed. I expect you to be on your absolute best behavior tonight.” With an agitated huff, she walks past me and down the stairs.

I shower and look at the baby blue dress my mother has laid out on my bed. It’s her favorite color and the girliest, primmest dress I’ve seen in a long time. I wonder if this is a test, if she’s trying to break my resolve. Maybe she wants me to crack. I bet she wants to send me away to some bad behavior camp or boarding school so I can be out of their hair. She doesn’t trust me to just sit and not cause problems. I guess I’ve done so well at causing them she thinks I couldn’t succeed at anything else.

Well, tonight is the night I prove her wrong. I’ll show her I can be well-behaved and as prim and uptight as she could want me to be. She’s not going to ruin my chance to get the hell out of here and live with Gia when summer hits. I’ll be the perfect Stepford daughter. I blow-dry my hair and pull it onto the top of my head in a Audrey Hepburn-style bun, and I put on the stupid ugly dress. I have to fight the urge to put on my black leather boots with it, not that I really want to. They’re not really comfortable, but they would piss her off and annoy Martin. Instead I slip on a pair of stockings, which she always nags me to wear, and white Mary Janes. I glance at myself in the mirror and practice a fake wide smile.

“Dinner was wonderful, Mother. I had the most excellent time with William, Martin. I almost made out with my sister’s boyfriend, everyone,” I say into the mirror with a pageant smile. Instead of feeling a smug satisfaction with myself, my stomach feels sick. I let out a sigh.

I open the door and head downstairs, the stench of salmon hitting my nose before I round the corner to the kitchen. I wonder if my mom chose salmon since it’s my least favorite fish. When I enter the dining room, as if on cue, Martin and Will stand. My heart sinks when I see him. His hair is no longer deliciously untidy but is now combed back. He’s wearing a navy dinner jacket, white button-up, khaki slacks, and a tie. He looks like a Ken doll, so different from the rugged, jean-jacketed, tattooed guy with the amazing blue eyes. He looks like William Crestfield, not Will Scott. Then I realize I look like Gwendolyn Garten, not Gwen Dwyer. Once I enter the room and our eyes lock, I think he can read my thoughts because his eyes drift to the table and his face turns red.

“You look beautiful, Gwendolyn,” Martin says, his eyes lighting up when he sees the picture-worthy stepdaughter he’s always imagined.

“I picked out her dress. It’s perfect on her, isn’t it?” my mother says with a pleased smile as I stand behind my chair across from Martin and my mother and next to William.

“It is,” Martin agrees.

William, which I’ve decided to call him for the rest of the night, pulls out my chair.

“William was just telling us about how fulfilling his job as a teacher is,” my mom says, sounding impressed.

I have to bite my tongue to keep from snickering. Thankfully Marta brings out the appetizer.

“Marta is a fantastic cook. You’re in for quite a treat,” Martin gushes.

“You’re too kind, sir,” Marta says in the monotone that never deviates from bored and displeased.

My mom couldn’t stand her and complained incessantly to me and Gia when we moved in, but Marta had had a place in this house long before my mother. I think Martin told her Marta wasn’t going anywhere in the passive-aggressive way he does when he refuses her something, which doesn’t happen much.

“Gwen cooked for Gia and me. She’s amazing. I couldn’t believe she’d made lasagna from scratch,” William says, and I suppress a small smile.

“Gwen hasn’t cooked in ages,” my mom says, mildly enthused.

“It was really fantastic,” he says.

I feel my face heating up.

“You’ll have to make us some sometime, Gwen,” Martin says.

Marta displays a blatant frown before she leaves us to taste her dish.

“So, William, are wedding bells in your future with Gia?” Mom asks.

“Whenever your daughter says yes,” Will says charmingly.

“Oh, how exciting. When are you going to ask her?” She beams at William.

My eyes widen, as do William’s. My mom looks genuinely interested, which means Gia hasn’t mentioned to my mother that Will has proposed. Will, who has been cool, poised, and collected, looks caught off guard.

Martin notices and tries to step in. “Honey, that’s nothing to spring on the boy.” He laughs, making light of the situation.

“It’s just a question, Martin,” my mom says charmingly.

William’s face turns beet-red. Gia didn’t tell Mom that he proposed. Why wouldn’t she tell her? His eyes are downcast now, the charming grin gone. The tension in the room has become downright awkward.

“So, honey, Michael was talking to me about the polls the other day,” Martin segues into some political mumbo-jumbo, steering the conversation away from a sore that he doesn’t even know exists.

I don’t understand why Gia didn’t mention the proposal.

“Would you all excuse me a minute?” William says as he rises from the table.

My mom and Martin exchange confused looks.

“What was that about?” my mom whispers to Martin once William leaves the room. “I didn’t think the question of the future would throw him off so much. Any boy with my daughter should be considering the future. Gia’s a senior. She makes plans, so her future husband needs to as well. Don’t you think they would look great together?”

“I don’t know. You know kids these days,” Martin says, finishing the rest of whatever Marta made.

“May I be excused?” I ask awkwardly.

My mother eyes me suspiciously. “Is there something you’d like to share with us, Gwendolyn?”

“I-I don’t know. I just need to go to the bathroom,” I say with a shrug.

My mother sighs. “Fine.”

I feel her eyes follow me as I leave the room. I head through the kitchen and see the door to the patio cracked. William’s sitting next to the pool, hunched over and resting his arms on his knees. He seems deep in thought, so I don’t say anything. I just sit next to him. He doesn’t say anything but keeps his blue eyes on the water.

“I feel like Cinderella’s fairy godmother in this dress,” I joke.

“Your mom and Gia are close. That’s what I gathered from her. Why wouldn’t she tell her I proposed?”

“Maybe she didn’t want to tell her until she’d said yes,” I say, trying to keep my tone upbeat and scrambling for something to say that will make his situation better.

“Or she didn’t tell her because she’s not going to say yes,” he says, sounding exasperated.

“Let’s not jump the gun… my mom, she’s the type to take something and run with it. There are so many reasons she wouldn’t tell my mom. She didn’t want to tell her until you’d met her. Or she didn’t want my mom to go off into this wedding tangent thing she’ll most likely do, or she’s smart and wants to elope with you and she’ll just spring it on them.”

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