Page 58 of The Summer We Played Pretend

Chloe steps between us. "Enough, Ethan. Stop acting like some kind of caveman. I'm not a child. I can make my own decisions."

I take a shaky breath. "Ethan, please. You're my best friend, and Chloe's your sister. I know this is a lot to take in, but can we just talk about this?"

I make the mistake of putting a protective hand on Chloe’s shoulder. Ethan’s face contorts with rage as he lunges at me, fists swinging. I barely dodge the first punch, feeling it graze my cheek.

"You backstabbing son of a—" he growls, coming at me again.

I raise my hands. "We don't have to do this."

But he's not listening. His next swing catches me in the ribs, and I stagger back, gasping. Instinct takes over, and I push him away, harder than I mean to.

"Stop it, both of you!" Chloe rushes between us

My heart leaps into my throat. "Chloe, no!"

It happens in slow motion. Ethan, mid-lunge, can't stop his momentum. He barrels into Chloe, and I watch in horror as she stumbles backward and falls to the ground.

Without thinking, I lash out. My fist connects with Ethan's face with a sickening thud. He reels back, blood streaming from his nose.

"Jackson!" Chloe's voice cuts through the haze of adrenaline. Her eyes are wide, her mouth open. She looks at me like she’s seen a monster.

I stare at my hand, then at Ethan's bloody face. I feel like a monster.

Shit.

"I...I didn't mean to—"

Chloe drops to her knees beside Ethan. 'What’s wrong with you two? You’re supposed to care about each other.' She looks up at me, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. 'Jackson, you should go.' Her words are a dagger to my chest, but it’s the disappointment in her gaze that cuts the deepest. " She wraps an arm around her brother. "Leave, Jackson. Before you make this even worse."

The look in her eyes—disappointment, anger, maybe even fear—eats away at any hope I had for us. I back away, my world crumbling around me.

"I'm sorry,” I mutter before I leave, my fist throbbing, but I don’t know that either of them hear me.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chloe

Igently probe Ethan's swollen nose, anger and concern battling inside me. My brother winces but tries to play it cool.

"Does this hurt?" I ask, pressing lightly on the bridge of his nose as I urge him to sit on the edge of the bathtub.

"Nah, I'm fine," Ethan insists through gritted teeth. His bravado doesn't fool me for a second.

I shake my head, exasperated. "You're lucky Mom and Dad are out for date night. If they saw you like this..." I trail off, imagining their reactions.

Ethan shrugs, but I catch a flicker of worry in his eyes. "It's not that bad."

"Not that bad?" I echo incredulously. "Your nose looks like a bruised tomato, and there's blood all over your shirt."

As I dab at his face with a damp cloth, I struggle to dig through the memories of this evening and make sense of them. One minute I was making out with Jackson, the next Ethan burst in like a hurricane. Now my boyfriend and brother are like mortal enemies.

Great. Just great.

"Hold still," I mutter, tilting Ethan's chin to get a better look. "I don't think it's broken.”

"Thanks, Dr. Davenport," he quips.

I roll my eyes. Even with a busted nose, he can't resist being a smartass. But beneath my irritation, relief bubbles up. At least he's well enough to crack jokes.

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