Page 59 of The Summer We Played Pretend

"Seriously though," I say, meeting his gaze and offering him a tissue. "What were you thinking, going after Jackson like that? You could've really hurt each other."

My brother snatches the tissue. Even though he’s sitting down, he seems taller and stronger than when I saw him last and Ethan’s tanned skin and scruffy beard make him look older, more like a man than my brother.

“I wanted to hurt him.”

I can't help but picture Ethan lunging at Jackson, fists flying. The image makes my stomach churn. "You both acted like cavemen. I mean, seriously? Fighting over me like I'm some prize to be won? It's ridiculous."

Ethan winces as he presses the tissue to his nose. "He had his hands all over you, Chlo. What was I supposed to do?"

"Uh, maybe not try to punch him?" I retort. "I expected better from both of you.”

A wave of disappointment washes over me when I recall the look on Jackson’s face when he swung at Ethan. Jackson, with his warm brown eyes and gentle touch, resorting to violence? It doesn't compute. He’s done literally everything he can this summer to protect me from harm.

“I can,” Ethan mutters.

I toss the bloodied tissue into the wastebasket, turning back to Ethan with narrowed eyes. "What are you even doing here? You weren't supposed to be back for another week."

Ethan shifts uncomfortably, his defensive posture softening slightly. "I wanted to surprise everyone. Caught an earlier flight."

"Some surprise.”

"Look, I'm sorry it went down like this," Ethan says. "But finding my best friend with his hands all over my little sister? What did you expect?"

I open my mouth to argue, but the words die on my tongue. How do I explain that Jackson isn't just some guy? That what we have feels real and important? But doubt creeps in, Jackson's unexpected aggression replaying in my mind.

I sigh, leaning against the cool tile of the bathroom counter. "I had this whole plan, you know? I was going to tell you about Jackson and me over a coffee. Your favorite muffin, a nice chat...not this mess."

Ethan's eyebrows furrow. "How long has it been going on?” His words are hard and edged with anger still.

"Since the beginning of summer," I admit, twirling a strand of hair around the end of my finger. "It just...happened."

“Gross.”

I roll my eyes. "Iwaslooking forward to you coming home," I say softly. "Even if I was nervous about telling you.”

He looks away. "Chlo, I—"

"No, listen," I cut him off. "You had no right to behave like that.”

“And he had no right to put his hands all over you.” His jaw flexes. “You were practically having sex in the garden.”

“Like hell we were.”

“You can’t expect me to be happy seeing him grope you. God, Chloe, he’s older than you.”

“By two years!” I remind him.

“And a hell of a lot more mature. Do you really think he’s serious about you? You’re the baby of the family and I was just trying to protect you—”

"Protect me? By punching my boyfriend in the face? How does that help anything?”

“You’ve always been naïve.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

I can’t deny the naïve bit. I let Brendan take advantage of me but Jackson…he’s no Brendan.

The image of Jackson's fist connecting with Ethan's face replays in vivid detail. It's so at odds with the gentle way he'd cup my face when we kissed, or how carefully he lifted me onto my bed when I broke my oil burner.

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