Page 62 of Cabin Fever Baby
Ocean pulled a hoodie over her T-shirt and rushed past me to face Quentin. “I have a lot more sense than that, little brother.”
“Doesn’t look it since you’re hooking up with some strange dude.”
“And it’s my business if I am. Do I say anything about all of your dalliances?”
Quentin’s arms fell to his sides. “Oh, c’mon, O. This is a bit different.”
“What, because you’re a man! I’ll beat that sexism out of you before you take another breath, Quentin Henry Hawkins! Our parents taught you better than that!”
“No, but this guy could have taken advantage of you,” he said on a low growl.
“Or maybe I took advantage of him, how about that?”
He lifted his hands to cover his face. “Gross. Don’t say that. You’re my sister.”
“And your sister has had sex before, you jackass.” She punched his arm. “Now get out of those wet clothes and go in the living room.”
“Man.” He shrugged out of his parka and snowpants, all the while staring daggers at me. “Who is this guy?”
“I’ll tell you when you sit down and act like a sensible person.”
“Well, how am I supposed to act when I come in to find you shagging some dude?”
“I don’t know—maybe contrite that you interrupted.”
“I was supposed to be here days ago!”
She pointed out the window. “Do you see the person-sized snow drifts out there?”
He gave her a mutinous glare, then he stomped by me and into the living room. He glanced at the quilt in front of the fireplace and hunched his shoulders.
I tipped my head back and stared at the ceiling.
How had this gone so sideways?
Ocean came up beside me and wrapped her fingers around my hand, but I shook her off and backed away.
“You could have told me, Ocean.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how?—”
I shook my head and turned on my heel, then I headed up the stairs.
I didn’t know what to think, or how to feel. I knew she’d been keeping something from me, but not this.
Not that her brother was a goddamn viral sensation. His music couldn’t exactly be cataloged, but his smart lyrics and sweeping sound, as well as his very unique voice had blown up over the last few years.
Hell, I’d gone to one of his shows at a festival a year ago with work friends. Eden Advertising had done the marketing for the summer festival, and we’d been given tickets as a thank you for our hard work.
I’d done the poster art and helped out on the merchandise.
And now he was in the living room.
Actually, related to Ocean.
I bowed my head, tension tightening every muscle in my shoulders and neck. Why had she kept it a secret?
What exactly would I have done with the information?