the most convenient target. Besides, a part of him felt oddly satisfied yelling at Tyler. The feeling of them fighting was strangely familiar.
“You would know all about being an asshole.” Tyler threw back at him.
The sound of someone clearing their throat behind him stopped him from hurling another insult Tyler’s way. He turned and found Megan standing at the kitchen’s entrance, looking at the both of them with an expression he couldn’t quite read.
And despite the awkward tension in the room, he couldn't help but notice, again, how beautiful Megan Williams was. Her slender oval face, with those pretty hazel eyes shining with such relief, had been the first thing he had seen upon waking from his coma and that had been one hell of a way to regain consciousness. Since that moment, he couldn't stop thinking about her.
Even when he had been surrounded by caring, flirty nurses who could probably moonlight as models, the prettiest girl in the room to him had been Megan with her chestnut colored hair that fell in waves past her shoulders, her delicate face with the high cheekbones, small pert nose and bright hazel eyes that seemed to show every emotion. Unless she was guarding them, like she was now.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked coolly.
“No,” Tyler grabbed his book and headed for the door. “Megan.”
“Tyler,” she greeted him with a look of clear disapproval as he brushed pass her. Jason got a weird jolt of satisfaction at that, but that feeling quickly disappeared because Megan quickly turned that same look in his direction.
“Hi,” he said quietly, looking in her general direction but not at her. “Didn’t hear you come in.”
“I’m not surprised with all that yelling,” she said, her voice still calm.
“Yeah, about that, I-“
She held up her hands. “I’d rather not know.”
He studied her briefly and could see that she really didn’t want to get into the specifics of his argument with Tyler. “You don’t want to know why Tyler and I were arguing?”
She shrugged. “You guys are brothers. You’re bound to argue. I’d be more surprised if you didn’t.”
“And you don’t care?”
“As long as no one ends up in the hospital, no, I don’t.” She gave him a small smile. “I learned a long time ago that it’s best to let you two figure things out on your own.” She placed her bag on the kitchen counter and took the seat that Tyler had just vacated. “If you want to talk about it though. . .
Again, the feelings of frustration welled up inside of him. He had tons of questions, but it seemed like the bulk of those questions centered around her. And his relationship with her. His gut was telling him that there was something more to their relationship beyond friendship. But he didn’t know what that something more was.
“Why bother?” he said dismissively. “It’s not like I’d get the truth.”
He saw her recoil at his words and felt instantly contrite. And maddeningly, this irritated him even more. How was it that she seemed to have this effect on him? He snapped at people all the time. Not just of late. He could recall early instances of mouthing off at anyone and everyone. Whatever he had been like in the past 15 years, he was confident that he wasn’t a boy scout. Probably the opposite. So he was pretty sure he didn’t, or shouldn’t, care one way or the other when he let his temper and mouth run away from him.
But when he behaved around Megan that way, a part of him felt terrible, and an overwhelming need to apologize overtook him. What kind of friendship provoked these kinds of feelings? What kind of ‘sister-like’ relationship would? There was definitely something else, something more, to his relationship with Megan.
So why was everyone trying so hard to hide it? Clearly, they were on good terms now. So whatever had happened, it couldn’t have been that bad, right? Yet the secrecy was beginning to make him wonder if something awful had happened
“You would know all about being an asshole.” Tyler threw back at him.
The sound of someone clearing their throat behind him stopped him from hurling another insult Tyler’s way. He turned and found Megan standing at the kitchen’s entrance, looking at the both of them with an expression he couldn’t quite read.
And despite the awkward tension in the room, he couldn't help but notice, again, how beautiful Megan Williams was. Her slender oval face, with those pretty hazel eyes shining with such relief, had been the first thing he had seen upon waking from his coma and that had been one hell of a way to regain consciousness. Since that moment, he couldn't stop thinking about her.
Even when he had been surrounded by caring, flirty nurses who could probably moonlight as models, the prettiest girl in the room to him had been Megan with her chestnut colored hair that fell in waves past her shoulders, her delicate face with the high cheekbones, small pert nose and bright hazel eyes that seemed to show every emotion. Unless she was guarding them, like she was now.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked coolly.
“No,” Tyler grabbed his book and headed for the door. “Megan.”
“Tyler,” she greeted him with a look of clear disapproval as he brushed pass her. Jason got a weird jolt of satisfaction at that, but that feeling quickly disappeared because Megan quickly turned that same look in his direction.
“Hi,” he said quietly, looking in her general direction but not at her. “Didn’t hear you come in.”
“I’m not surprised with all that yelling,” she said, her voice still calm.
“Yeah, about that, I-“
She held up her hands. “I’d rather not know.”
He studied her briefly and could see that she really didn’t want to get into the specifics of his argument with Tyler. “You don’t want to know why Tyler and I were arguing?”
She shrugged. “You guys are brothers. You’re bound to argue. I’d be more surprised if you didn’t.”
“And you don’t care?”
“As long as no one ends up in the hospital, no, I don’t.” She gave him a small smile. “I learned a long time ago that it’s best to let you two figure things out on your own.” She placed her bag on the kitchen counter and took the seat that Tyler had just vacated. “If you want to talk about it though. . .
Again, the feelings of frustration welled up inside of him. He had tons of questions, but it seemed like the bulk of those questions centered around her. And his relationship with her. His gut was telling him that there was something more to their relationship beyond friendship. But he didn’t know what that something more was.
“Why bother?” he said dismissively. “It’s not like I’d get the truth.”
He saw her recoil at his words and felt instantly contrite. And maddeningly, this irritated him even more. How was it that she seemed to have this effect on him? He snapped at people all the time. Not just of late. He could recall early instances of mouthing off at anyone and everyone. Whatever he had been like in the past 15 years, he was confident that he wasn’t a boy scout. Probably the opposite. So he was pretty sure he didn’t, or shouldn’t, care one way or the other when he let his temper and mouth run away from him.
But when he behaved around Megan that way, a part of him felt terrible, and an overwhelming need to apologize overtook him. What kind of friendship provoked these kinds of feelings? What kind of ‘sister-like’ relationship would? There was definitely something else, something more, to his relationship with Megan.
So why was everyone trying so hard to hide it? Clearly, they were on good terms now. So whatever had happened, it couldn’t have been that bad, right? Yet the secrecy was beginning to make him wonder if something awful had happened
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