Page 78 of A Fool's Game

I step forward, resting my hand on Ben’s upper arm and returning his polite smile. “I’m sure Ainsley knows the way.”

I look back over my shoulder to where the man in question is standing, stunned still by something about this interaction.

He nods. “Yeah, Dad. We’re fine.”

“Dinner, then,” Ben responds, refusing to let us leave with the upper hand, though I don’t even understand what game we’re playing. “I made reservations at seven.”

“Sounds good,” I respond for the group as I walk toward the elevators, glancing at the others to join me.

“What the hell was that all about?” I demand as soon as the doors close behind us.

“I didn’t know what to say,” Ainsley admits, looking down at his feet in a display of shame I rarely see from the guy.

Something about his demeanor has me unsettled. “You didn’t know what to say about our relationship?”

“Yeah. We’ve never talked about it, and then Vicki asked if Gem was my girlfriend?—”

“Which I am,” Gem interrupts.

Ainsley nods. “Which you are. But you’re more than that. Your Taylor’s girlfriend too. And he’s…I’m…we’re something.”

“This is something, all right,” I mutter to myself as the elevator comes to a stop, the doors opening on a bright, wide-open patio, complete with pool.

“We should have talked about it before we met your dad, I guess,” Gem offers, slipping her arm into Ainsley’s as we cross the sunny patio toward a set of double sliding glass doors leading into what looks like a two-story suite on top of this resort tower.

The A/C in the room provides instant relief, and with that relief, my brain comes back online. “How long have your dad and Victoria been together? Can’t have been too long.” I can’t help but sneak in a joke about her age. I know it’s going to be the first of many.

Ainsley shakes his head. “Almost four years.”

It’s not his answer, but his tone that makes me dig further. “You seem to know each other pretty well.”

“We’re friends.”

“You could have been classmates,” Gem adds from where she now stands behind an island in the open kitchen.

Ainsley’s growing more uncomfortable by the second, and I wonder if it’s embarrassment over his dad shacking up with someone young enough to be his sister. “It must be tough for your new stepmom?—”

Ainsley shuts me up with both hands pushing hard on my shoulders, a move so sudden and fierce that it nearly sends me over the coffee table.

“She’s not my stepmom!” he roars, standing over me as I try to recover from my near fall.

I straighten and take a few steps back, bumping into Gem, who’s come up behind me. She wraps her arms protectively around my middle and we both just stare at Ainsley, who’s breathing heavily, flushed, and clearly embarrassed by his outburst.

When he recovers, he won’t look at us. “I’m going to take my stuff upstairs.” He turns and starts toward the pile of luggage in the foyer.

“Hold on,” Gem says, releasing me and taking a step toward him.

“Whatever’s going on here, buddy, you can tell us.”

I want to be supportive, empathetic to the fact that there’s some serious family drama just under the surface, and he might be hesitant to blurt it all out. I certainly know how that goes, considering I have yet to share any of my family problems with the guy.

“It’s nothing. It’s fine,” he answers, still not looking up. “I’m going to take some stuff upstairs. Do either of you have a preference?—”

“Ainsley,” Gem starts, taking a step toward him with her hands out low, as if approaching a scared animal. “We are going to spend the next two days with these people. I know it might feel scary to say it out loud, but I promise you’ll feel better. And we can help.”

He looks down at the luggage once more, as if considering bailing, but then he sighs and shakes his head, gaze drifting out the large window overlooking the pool. Anywhere but at us.

“It’s not a big deal,” he says finally.

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