Chapter 1

"Okay, but as soon as you meet him, you have to sneak away, call me, and let me know if he's as hot in person," my best friend Erica Gordon instructs ecstatically.

I roll my eyes, taking a sip of my Starbucks hot chocolate.

About a year ago, my mother began dating a mechanic she had met through a friend at work. He's a really nice guy. Only problem though? He lived an hour and a half away from our Port Angeles home in La Push, Washington. So they did the long distance thing for a while; however, when they got engaged, they decided moving in with each other before the wedding in February was a smart idea. My mom was able to get a similar nursing position at the hospital in Forks, and a few days before Christmas, Peter and some of his friends moved all of my mom and I's stuff down to his home in La Push.

Due to my custody arrangement having me with my dad for Christmas this year, I hadn't gone with them, but I've been down to La Push a few times with my mom. It seems decent enough. Despite my multiple trips though, I have yet to meet my soon to be step-brother, Paul.

Erica, however, took the liberty to look him up on Facebook, and I can't disagree with her when she says he's quite attractive.

It's New Year's Day – which happens to be moving day for me – and Erica is my last "goodbye" stop before I have to hit the road from Port Angeles to my new home in La Push. I had a half-hearted goodbye with my dad earlier today before grabbing the last of my bags and meeting up with Erica. He had seemed more distraught over a client call he was waiting for than me leaving. But as he mentioned, I would be back in a couple weeks anyway for the weekend. Stupid custody agreement.

"Ricki, you do realize he's going to be my brother right? It doesn't matter if he's attractive or not!"

She sighs, as if I'm the one being unrealistic. "Andy, he's going to be your step-brother. Step."

Rolling my eyes again, I snort. Like there's a difference.

"Okay, fine. Find out if he's hot for my sake."

"Your sake?"

"Yes! I'll be down for the wedding in like a month, and if he's as hot as he is in his profile pic then please, please, please set me up with him."

"What if he's a total tool?" I ask, amused.

"Can't be any worse than Jeremy." Jeremy is probably the biggest asshole at our high school – well my former high school. He was at the New Year's Eve party we went to last night, and tried to get both of us into his bed. At separate times, then the same time. Not that he got anywhere, but still. Taking a sip of her tea before glancing sadly at the clock. "Are you sure you need to leave by three?"

Sighing, I nod. "Yeah. Mom wants me there by supper time, and you know I drive slowly on the highway."

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbles, pouting at me.

Walking over, I give her a hug. "I'll be back the weekend after next!"

"To visit your dad!"

"Oh, please. We both know he'll be working the whole time anyway." She shoots me a sympathetic look, not bothering to deny it. My dad's not a terrible person; he's just not very good at being a dad. He owns a law firm in Port Angeles, but does a lot of business in Seattle and Tacoma. Even when he's home, he's usually still preoccupied with work. "Exactly, so we'll have plenty of time to hang out, and I'll have tons of gossip to tell you about how bad it is being the only blonde at a school on a native reservation."

She chuckles, walking with me to my car. "Yes, I wanna know about that and the hot brother!"

"Step-brother!" I exclaim.

"See, there is a difference! You totally hope he's going to be cute!"

I smirk. "For your sake, maybe. But it really makes no difference. My mom is marrying his dad for Christ's sake!" We say our final goodbyes and I drive onto the highway. In all honestly, I'm hoping by some magical coincidence the guy she found on Facebook isn't him. The last thing I need is my best friend embarrassing me by throwing herself at my new step-brother.

…

Hesitantly, I pull my hand back and resist the urge to knock on the front door of the Lahote's house. It's my home now, and I know my mom and Peter will never let me hear the end of it if I do. Taking a deep breath, I open the front door slowly. "Hello?"

"Cassandra!" I hear a familiar voice exclaim before seeing my mom run into the hallway from the kitchen. I had gotten a tour of the home during my first visit to La Push. There were three bedrooms; the master being downstairs in the half-finished basement, and the other two being upstairs across from the only bathroom.

"Mom, hi." I embrace her in a hug, laughing when she refuses to let me go. "Mom, it's barely been a week. It's not like I took off for a year."

She scrunches her nose at me affectionately. "Oh shush, how was the drive down?"

"Good," I reply, kicking off my winter boots, hanging my coat on the hangers by the door, and following my mom into the kitchen. "There's no snow or ice yet."

She laughs, knowing how much I hate winter driving. "Well don't hold your breath. It's supposed to snow late next week."

I groan, causing my soon-to-be step-father to chuckle. "Don't worry, Cassie, nowhere in La Push is too far of a drive anyway."

I laugh, despite being unsure of whether or not he's trying to make a joke. From what I've learned about Peter, he makes a lot more dad jokes than my father ever has. He's also less stoic with emotions than Dad, which is evident as he pulls me into a side hug once I'm fully in the kitchen. "It's great to see you. I'm just gonna go put more wood in the fireplace before we eat."

He kisses my mom's cheek on his way to the living room, and I can't help but smile. I've never seen my mom so happy.

"Supper's basically ready, honey. You're hungry right? Paul will be up in a minute; he just ran downstairs to grab another can of cranberry sauce." Since I wasn't here over Christmas and Paul had a Christmas dinner with some of his coworkers apparently, my mom had cooked our turkey dinner today instead.

"Yeah, I'm starving. I haven't had a home-cooked meal in over a week." Mom grumbles about how unhealthy it is that my father's pantry is non-existent and we eat out anytime I visit him.

I notice an insanely tall, incredibly muscled guy enter from the other side of the kitchen. He's intently reading the can in his hand. "There's no jellied stuff in the pantry, Marie. Is the whole berry stuff oh…" as he looks up to my mom he notices that I've arrived. "Kay?" he finishes.

My mom steps aside so she's no longer between us. "Yeah that's fine as long as you guys like that kind," my mom answers before gesturing to me. "Paul, this is my daughter. Cassie, this is Peter's son, Paul."

I smile, waving awkwardly at my new step-brother. "Hey." A magical coincidence didn't happen. This is the guy Erica looked up on Facebook.

Only he is insanely hotter than I remember seeing in the picture.

Paul looks away from my mother, finally acknowledging me. He opens his mouth, presumably to greet me, but stops short as the can of cranberry sauce falls out of his hand. It only lasted a split second, but I swear to god he was staring at me in awe. As unrealistic as that would be for a guy like him to do that to me.

His mouth opens again, but his eyes have darkened, his jaw has set, and he looks slightly angry. This time he speaks, though. But it wasn't what I was expecting: "Fuck." Frantically he reaches down for the can, his hands trembling slightly.

I want to ask what's wrong, but before I get the chance, he looks back at my mother – anger vanished, handing her the sauce. "Sorry, I – um, just got a call from Sam. Emergency or something. I'm gonna have to miss the dinner."

"Oh," I can tell my mom's disappointed but she doesn't seem phased by his swearing or him suddenly having to leave. "Well, that's okay. We'll make sure to save you some."

"Thanks." He forces a smile. "Nice meeting you, Cassandra," he adds as he's walking past me. But he doesn't even look at me.

"Wait," I call after him, "I think I blocked your truck in."

I hear the front door shut, wondering if he heard me or not. Maybe I should go move my car for him? I shoot my mom a confused look.

She just shrugs. "He and some other kids are responsible for patrolling the reservation; he works weird hours. But don't worry about your car, Sam doesn't live too far from here. He'll probably just walk over."

I don't mention how concerning it is that "kids" are patrolling the reservation rather than police, or that he left without putting on a coat. If my mom doesn't find Paul's behaviour odd, I'm probably just being paranoid.

Peter walks back into the kitchen, looking confused and gesturing to the front door. "Did Paul just leave?"

"Yeah, said Sam said there was an emergency? I hope everything is okay."

Peter shrugs. "I'm sure everything is fine. There's always an emergency. Too bad, though. I was hoping you guys would get to know each other."

Mom laughs. "Oh they'll have plenty of time for that. Let's eat!"

Dinner is delicious and filled with catching up about how our holidays went and what living in La Push will be like. Once we're finished and dishes are cleaned, my mom insists I open my Christmas presents. I grab the presents I got for them and we open them in the living room by the fireplace. It's almost sad that it's the most family-filled Christmas I've had in a while – and it's January.

As soon as I can, I sneak away from them and check out my new room. She had my furniture set up similar to how it was in my old room, but my boxes of stuff are still unpacked, stacked in the corner of the room.

Collapsing on my bed, I pull out my phone and dial Erica's number.

She doesn't even say hello. "Oh my god, Andy! What the hell took you so long?"

I roll my eyes. "How was the drive? Do you like the house? Was supper nice?" I snort. "Those would be much better greetings."

"You've been home for three hours! Why didn't you answer my texts?"

"Alright, Miss Clingy. I'm sorry I was busy spending time with my family." I can practically hear her roll her eyes. "Anyway, you'll be happy to know that he is hot as hell."

"That's all I wanted to hear!" She giggles.

"But!" I exclaim. "It was the weirdest thing. He literally left as soon as I showed up. I mean, I guess he had to work. But it felt weird."

"What do you mean by weird?" she asks, curious.

I explain to her what happened as best I can, leaving out the part where I think he was staring at me in awe. Mostly because after the angry way he looked at me before talking to my mom, I'm convinced I just imagined that part. "Do you think he knew I was gawking at him and wanted to get the hell out of there?" I question nervously.

"Cass, come on. I know you. You're an extremely subtle person, and even if he's as god-like as you're saying, I think you were probably fine. Maybe he was stressed about whatever the emergency was and dropping the peas made it worse."

"Cranberry sauce," I correct.

Erica groans. "That's not the point!"

"I know," I whine. "I'm just worried. What if he hates me or we don't get along? I don't want to fuck this up for my mom. They're so happy, Ricki."

"You're over-analyzing this. Wait until you actually know this guy. Maybe you'll be mortal enemies or maybe you'll become the best of friends. But regardless, someday he's going to be your step-brother and your best friend's future husband, so you'll have to figure out how to get along."

Bursting out laughing, I struggle to stop. I'm not sure if she's trying to make me laugh or being serious, but either way, it's moments like these where I'm glad she's my best friend. "Okay, okay. I'll give it a few days before I give you my next assessment of him."

Once I'm off the phone with Erica, I shut off my light and curl under my mass of blankets – I hate being cold. I'm sure earlier was just a misunderstanding. I'd talk to him tomorrow and everything would be all right.

At least, that's what I need to tell myself if I'm gonna be able to actually fall asleep tonight.

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