Текст книги "Finding Me "

Автор книги: Mariah Dietz

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

He turns and gives me a smooth, well-practiced smile as his eyes travel down the small black dress Kendall had convinced me to wear. “I can show you where I live.”

“Seriously, ask another chick!” Max barks.

I don’t bother responding to either of them and take a few more steps into the living room.

“I’m sorry,” I begin, reaching out and gently touching a girl’s forearm. She looks from my hand to my face and her lips that are painted bright red curl into a smile.

“Hey,” she replies, taking a step closer to me.

“Hi, um…” I shift my weight back slightly, not certain if she’s drunk or why she’s leaning closer to me. “Do you know the address of this place? I’m trying to give directions to my ride.”

“I’d be happy to give you a ride.”

“That’s alright. He’s already on his way. I’m just trying to tell him where to go.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing with guys—you always have to tell them where to go,” she says, leaning closer to me.

Max’s soft laughter echoes in my ear, a familiar and warm sound. “It’s my boyfriend. My boyfriend’s on his way,” I reply before considering the ramifications of my words.

“Too bad,” she replies, rocking back on her feet. Her eyes fall back down to my dress and raising a single, delicate eyebrow she looks back at my face. “You have a bangin’ body.”

I force a smile before turning to check the laundry room door for the hundredth time.

“I have the address in a text,” she explains, pulling her phone from her purse. “You know, you kind of look like that famous soccer player, Alex something. I bet you get that a lot.”

I shake my head, not having a clue who she’s referencing since I haven’t followed professional soccer in a few years now. “No, if anything I get told that I sort of resemble one or more of my four older sisters.”

“Four sisters? Wow. Are they as beautiful as you?”

“My sisters are gorgeous.”

She nods a couple of times. “I’m sure they are, but I asked if they’re as beautiful as you.”

“I got the leftover genes in comparison,” I reply, smiling to show I’m comfortable with the fact.

“I seriously doubt that, Alex.” She looks at me as though she’s tempted to say more and then turns her attention to her phone. “Alright, here we go. Tell him you’re at 17902 N Dayton Lane.”

“I got it,” Max says quietly before I can repeat it to him.

Turning to the girl that’s moved her attention to the laundry room door that I’ve been glancing at she furrows her eyebrows. “Do you need some help?”

“No, thanks though. And thanks for the address. I appreciate it!”

“If it doesn’t work out with you and this guy, let me know. Believe me, you won’t ever have to tell me where to go, I’d never let you out of my sight.”

I smirk, trying to hide my laughter from joining Max’s, and head back toward the hall where a large group cheers a random drinking game. Breaking through the majority of the group, I clutch the phone a little tighter to see if I can hear Max, not certain if we lost connection through the chaos. “Max?”

“I’m here.”

“Please don’t let me go.” I’m referring to hanging up the phone, but quickly realize how my words could easily be interpreted in another manner. My mind begins racing, trying to think of how to correct it.

“I won’t, Ace. I won’t.” A faraway memory fills my chest making my heart flutter and my head spin.

I open the laundry room door and crouch beside Kendall, pushing clothes away from her, and checking to ensure her breathing still sounds steady.

“I’m almost there. Is Kendall awake?”

“No, but her breathing is fine. I don’t know how she managed to drink so much.”

“It’s alright, she’s going to be okay. Where are you guys?”

“Upstairs. Take the hall off the living room and then the second door on your right in the laundry room.”

“The laundry room?”

“Yeah.”

A soft laugh echoes through the phone and to my other ear, and I turn to see Max wearing a pair of navy blue cargo shorts and fitted gray T-shirt. The last trace of fear vanishes from his face, and I follow his eyes to Kendall and the remaining articles of clothing still strewn across her.

“What was she drinking? Did she take anything?” he asks. Kneeling beside her, across from me, he feels for her pulse and checks her eyes.

“I don’t know. She and Jameson were arguing and I was trying to give them a little space. Then I saw him leave, and by the time I found her, she was chugging tequila.”

Max’s eyebrows scrunch slightly. “She usually knows her limits though.”

“Do you think she was drugged?” I ask.

Max turns to me, his blue eyes calculated as he looks me over. “It’s hard to say without a urine test. She seems okay, so we can take her home and make J look after her, or we can take her to the hospital and they can run a few tests.”

I stare at him with wide eyes. I let my sister possibly get drugged?

“Ace, hey.” I turn my attention to Max, who’s now standing a few short feet in front of me. “Ace, this isn’t your fault. She’s going to be okay, I promise.”

I turn my attention back to Kendall, feeling a new wave of guilt and panic. “How do we know what to do?”

“I think that based on the fact we know she was drinking heavily, and she’s been under quite a bit of stress with work and the wedding, she’s probably just passed out. I think the best thing to do at this point is bring her home, get her lots of water and sleep, and check on her every couple of hours to make sure nothing changes.”

I pull my hair up in a pony with my fist, wishing again that I had a hair tie before I release it and slowly nod.

“Nothing’s going to happen, Ace, I promise,” Max says again, his hand settling on my forearm.

My body buzzes under the first contact I’ve shared with him in nearly a year, and I look up to his face and watch his jaw flex as he releases a deep breath. His hand moves and he sweeps Kendall up effortlessly.

My arm burns from the loss of his heat, and I try to recall if that’s just how it feels anytime you lose the warmth of someone’s touch. I realize I’m working to convince myself of the fact when Max’s voice interrupts my attempts.

“Don’t lose me, Ace.” He’s looking directly at me, keeping Kendall aloft with one arm under her shoulders and another beneath her knees. I pull the skirt of her short charcoal gray dress to ensure it keeps her covered and move my eyes back to Max’s, which are still intently looking at me.

“I won’t.”

He nods once and then heads into the hall with me in tow.

“Hey, Alex, what’s going on?”

Max stops when I place a hand on his back, seeing the girl with the bright red lipstick that had given me directions.

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she will be,” I reply, turning my glance to Max for needed confirmation. He nods once, and it fills me with the confidence I have been desperately seeking. I turn to look back at the girl.

“Is this one of your sisters?”

I confirm the fact and watch her look over Kendall, recognizing her appreciative expression. Even passed out drunk, Kendall’s shockingly beautiful.

“She’s beautiful,” she says, confirming my mental assessment. I smile and nod to say I told you so.

She turns her attention to Max and looks him over for a brief second. “Your girlfriend doesn’t realize she’s a fucking knockout. I don’t know if that’s because she’s really that cool, or because you’re not doing your job well enough.”

My eyes widen in panic and my mind scrambles to diffuse her words. “Thanks again for your help.” I place a hand on Max’s back and gently push him to indicate for him to move again.

“Hey, Alex?”

I turn once more, feeling even more hesitant.

“Your sister really is beautiful, but you’re heart-staggeringly gorgeous.”

I manage to give her a small smile and turn back to Max, keeping my eyes on the crowd as I closely follow him out of the party.

“I think you’re ringing there, Ace,” Max says as we cross the street toward a large gray truck.

“Whose truck is this?” I ask as Max pulls out some keys.

He looks over at me, his mouth set in a grim line before his attention focuses on the truck. “Mine.”

His words rock me. This is much bigger than getting rid of a pitcher, or a clock, or a blanket. This is his Jeep. The car that he worked to rebuild and drove since high school and that I had rode in to most of our dates. I really have been erased.

I fish through my small purse and retrieve Kendall’s phone as it rings again and see Jameson calling.

“Hey,” I quickly answer.

“Kendall?” Jameson’s voice is coated with anxiety.

“It’s Ace.”

“Ace, I’m so sorry. Can I talk to her please?”

“She’s kind of … unresponsive at the moment,” I begin.

“What? Is she okay? Where are you guys?”

“We’re okay. Max is here.”

“Where are you guys?” he repeats. Before I can answer he continues, “Ace, let me talk to Max really quick.”

I don’t object. If I was in a reverse situation, I would want to talk to my sister for her opinion on the situation too. I tell him to hold on and climb into the driver’s side of the truck, loathing the dress again as I try to ensure it remains in place with constricted movements. Max carefully deposits Kendall into the passenger seat of his truck and I help hold her and fasten her seat belt before handing him Kendall’s phone. I brush loose waves of hair from her face as I try to inconspicuously take account of the truck. It smells like leather and new car, with just the faint trace of him in the background that has me distracted for a few moments.

“She’s wasted, but she might have been roofied. Ace saw her chugging some tequila, so it’s tough to say, but her pulse and breathing are good.”

I can hear Jameson yelling obscenities and then angrily murmur.

“No one touched her. Ace called me and we have her in my truck now.”

Jameson’s voice grumbles another reply.

“I’ll see you at the house.” Max hands me the phone and closes the passenger door. I watch through the windshield as he crosses the front of the truck to the driver’s side.

Breathing seems like an Olympic sport as he slides in beside me, his thigh brushing against mine as he gets situated.

“Seat belt, Ace.”

I need him to call me Harper again. Having him call me Ace is too familiar and filled with too many memories. My muscles tense as I move to fasten my seat belt.

We ride for several minutes in silence that begins to feel endless before I break it.

“Did I really drunk dial you? I haven’t been drunk in forever.” I try to turn to look at Max without moving my entire body and see a faint grin grow on his face.

“When?” I cry, horrified that it may have been the night that I met Danny, or the night that I found Kitty in the hospital.

“Spring break last year. You, Kendall, and … God, what was her name? Shelly?”

“Shelby.”

Max shrugs with indifference. “You guys were on that cruise from hell.”

My hand covers my eyes as I recall the vomiting, heat, and terrible scents that permeated the air. Right now, I’d trade going back to that moment for nearly anything so I could return to those moments and change the month that followed.

“I don’t remember drunk dialing you.” I rack my thoughts to recall him even mentioning it to me.

“You were a little drunk,” he says with a laugh.

“God, I bet that was a fun call filled with whining.”

Max’s laugh fills the cab. The tenor of his voice brings a familiarity to my body, knowing how the sound feels against my chest. “No, you barely whined.”

I want to ask what we discussed, but Max seems content with his brief answers, and I don’t want to push him.

“Kendall’s the whiny drunk, after she surpasses her craziness. You were always happy, and as you called it, friendly.” My cheeks heat and my body involuntarily leans closer to him. “You just wanted to come home.”

I shift again, pressing my knees together so hard I think I may be bruising them. “You know, I really didn’t know your nephews were at your house. Honestly, I would never have encouraged them to do that.”

Max glances at me, his blue eyes shining in the dark of the night. “I know,” he concedes with a tight nod. “I wasn’t trying to blame you for it. Things are just …” His words drift off with the song playing softly on the radio.

I resituate to angle my body so I can support Kendall better, hoping Max will finish, but attempting to disguise my near need for it.

“Is that stuff you said about you and your sisters … is that really how you feel?” Max asks quietly, breaking the brief silence that has settled over us again.

“Stuff I said about my sisters?”

“About you being the leftover, or not being as pretty as them, or whatever.”

This is not the conversation I expected to have. Not at all. I look down at Kendall and her gleaming blond hair. “They all just have such a beautiful pureness with their blond, blond hair blue eyes, and alabaster skin.”

“How would you describe yourself?”

I turn my head to look over at him again and try to consider his question. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t think I’m ugly or anything, I just don’t have the unique and undeniable beauty that they have. I’m kind of plain looking. People just think there’s more because of my name.”

“Seriously?” Max scoffs. “I’ve heard people describe you using a lot of different words. Never was the word plain used to…”

My phone rings at full volume, startling me, and I’m pretty sure Max when I see his eyes move from the road to my purse.

I fish it out, not certain if I feel relieved for the interruption or just disappointed. “Hey, Kyle.”

“What’s going on? Do you need help?” His voice is anxious. I hadn’t left messages because I didn’t want to alarm them, but having called each of them multiple times warrants the concern in his tone.

Max’s hand comes into view as he turns the radio down as I quickly assure Kyle that everything’s okay, leaving the details of the situation open so Kendall can share what she wants when I know so little.

Jameson meets us in the driveway, with Landon behind him, when we pull up. I unlatch her seat belt and help Jameson unweave it from her arms so he can lift her from the cab. Before I lower down to the driveway, I remove both of my heels and feel the residual warmth of the sun meet my feet.

We head inside and Jameson changes her clothes while I wipe off her makeup. Max appears when Jameson opens his bedroom door, holding two glasses of water. “See if you can get her to drink these when you try to wake her up. I’d set an alarm for every ninety minutes.”

“I’ll set mine too,” I say, looking to Jameson, knowing that an alarm likely won’t wake him up.

When I come out to the living room in a pair of cotton shorts and an old soccer camp T-shirt, Landon, Zeus, and Max meet me, propped on the couch.

“What are you guys doing?”

“Thought we’d join your slumber party, since you won’t be sleeping anyways,” Landon says, flipping on the TV.

“You guys should go to sleep. You have work and school. I have nothing going on until tomorrow night for the bachelorette party.”

“I don’t know if Jameson’s going to let her out tomorrow,” Landon says, mirroring my very thoughts.

I get situated on the edge of the couch with Landon beside me. Zeus sits between him and Max.

“The Breakfast Club!” I cry when the TV focuses.

“The what?” Landon asks.

“The Breakfast Club. It’s Molly Ringwald.”

Landon looks at me with raised eyebrows and a small smile as he lowers the remote. “Who in the hell is Molly Ringwald?”

“The Brat Pack,” Max answers, shocking the hell out of me.

We make it through most of The Breakfast Club before checking on Kendall to find her only slightly responsive. I sit behind her, my legs straddling her waist, as we get her to sit up and drink. Jameson sits beside her. He hasn’t fallen asleep either.

Once we manage to get Kendall to drink the contents of a single glass of water, we finish the movie. Following it, we watch something much darker that has me burrowing further into the couch.

“What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.”

–Ralph Waldo Emerson

I panic seeing the sun streaking through the windows. I sit up further hearing a familiar squealing.

“Abby!” I cry, standing up as she rushes toward me with Max protesting for her to slow down on the slick floors. She wraps around me, squeezing me so tightly I can’t catch a breath, undeterred by his warnings.

“Oh my God, I fell asleep!” My body goes rigid as I begin pulling away from Abby.

“It’s okay, she seems to be feeling way better than I expected,” Max says.

“She’s awake?”

Max nods and my eyes go to the clock to see that it’s already two. “It’s two? In the afternoon?”

Abby pulls back and uses one hand to wipe at some stray tears as she laughs at my shock, still keeping the other firmly latched on my shirt. “I’m starting to experience some strong waves of maternal instincts, so it’s probably best you guys don’t tell me what’s going on. Unless there’s some sort of racy information, then I want to hear it.”

My eyebrows raise with a laugh. “Oh, Abs, I’ve missed you,” I say, hugging her again before pulling back and placing a hand on her tiny belly that’s proudly on display.

Abby sniffles and wipes a few more tears from her cheeks. “I’m so happy to see you!”

I smiled broadly, feeling the comforting sense of home filling me again before a thump hits my palm. “She’s kicking me!” I cheer.

“She’s excited to meet her Auntie Harper!” I smile and continue to feel the soft kicks.

“Abby are you hungry?” Max asks.

“I’m always hungry,” she admits.

“Want some pizza or something?”

“Do you feel that?” Abby cries. I look up at her and nod. “Say something, Max.”

He raises his single eyebrow, exposing my favorite Max expression for the first time, sending my heart on a path of destruction.

“Say something,” she urges impatiently. Abby grabs his hand and plants it beside mine.

“I grew up with brothers,” Max begins, standing beside us with obvious discomfort. Abby and I both laugh as the baby begins wiggling even faster.

The moment is too right, too familiar, and I slide my hand from her stomach, and without looking at either of them, I move toward the kitchen. It’s only seconds before I hear Max instruct Abby to be careful and see him hold out a hand as she crosses into the kitchen.

“So how are you feeling?” I ask, pulling a chair out for her. “You look amazing!”

“Good, the exhaustion is starting to return though.”

“What sounds good?” I ask, grabbing a pile of take out menus from the kitchen cupboard, realizing as I do, that too many things are beginning to feel comfortable.

“Actually, what really sounds good are your chocolate chip pancakes,” she admits with a guilty expression.

“I actually got stuff to make them when Kendall and I went shopping Tuesday, so you’re in luck.”

Max produces a large mixing bowl and then turns to the fridge, returning with eggs and milk, adding to the familiarity.

“Okay, so I have a favor to ask of you guys,” Abby says, her voice, a note higher than normal has my eyes turning to look at her in curiosity.

“I need someone, or maybe even both of you would be good. Maybe if he hears it twice it will make him feel better.”

“Hear what?” I ask.

“Well, okay, so Jesse needs some reassurance that he’s not going to hit the baby.”

“He’s worried about being an abusive father?” I ask, trying to keep the concern shooting through me out of my voice.

“What? No! No! Of course not! No,” she cries, moving her chair to face us. “Okay, I did kind of word that wrong, huh?”

We both turn to look at Max who affirms with a nod while cutting open a bag of chocolate chips. My eyes rotate back to Abby as I measure out the baking powder.

Her head drops slightly and then snaps back to me. “Okay, he won’t have sex with me!” she cries. I choke on the chocolate chip I just dropped in my mouth and cough as she continues. “Not since we went to the ultrasound! He’s worried he’s going to hit her.”

I quickly begin shaking my head before she can ask again.

“Why are you saying no?” Abby whines, seeming genuinely surprised by my refusal.

“Because, no,” I exclaim. “That sounds like a great topic to discuss with your OB.”

“Harper, you know it would be fine.”

“There are books, and articles, and real qualified doctors to discuss this with.”

“Max, will you talk to him? Please?”

“Uh, no,” Max responds quickly, closing his eyes and shaking his head, like he’s hoping to dispel a mental image.

“Oh, are you cooking, Ace?” Jameson asks, walking into the kitchen wearing only a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips. His sandy blond hair is disheveled and his eyes are bright. “Pancakes!” he cries gleefully.

“I thought you had to work today?” I ask, watching him look over the contents on the counter.

“No, I’m on vacation today and Monday, and then next Friday and Monday too.”

“How’s Kendall?”

“She’s just getting dressed. She’s tired, but seems fine,” Jameson answers, coming over and snatching some chocolate chips. “I’m looking forward to pancakes.”

“They’re my pancakes. You go get your, I-just-had-sex self back in your room,” Abby huffs.

I stifle a laugh that grows when I see the confusion on Jameson’s face mixed with just enough guilt and pride to reveal that she’s right.

“Yeah, I don’t want to hear about it,” she growls.

Jameson doesn’t act remotely phased as he sits at the table and pulls out his phone, scrolling over the screen.

“Do you think one of your sisters would talk to him?”

“No, Google it if you won’t talk to your doctor.”

“Harper, I need you!” she whines. “I’m not letting you leave next week. Just stay. Please? Baby Adalynn is going to need you. I’m going to need you. Jesse will likely depend on you.”

“Kendall will help you mastermind a plan,” Jameson offers, lifting his head to look at Abby. He stands up and heads to the fridge, retrieving a carton of orange juice, then turns and silently offers Abby a glass. She responds with a quick smile, which quickly fades into another glower.

I can’t hear this conversation, let alone be a part of it. Not now, because I’m feeling the warm comfort of home enveloping me, and I know that it’s partly just a façade. I know that if I stay, it will be a matter of time, maybe a week, or a month, but at some point, I will freak out and wonder if I’ve made the right decision again. Not to mention how things would be with Max.

“She’s not the one whose help I need.” Abby’s words are so quiet I can barely make them out as I drop cylinders of batter into the pan.

I refuse to turn around and verify their authenticity, hoping that if no one responds, they’ll float past unnoticed.

I’m pretty certain the others are thinking the same thing as a stifling quiet fills the kitchen.

“Do I smell pancakes?” Kendall asks, coming into the kitchen. I steal a glance at her and find her looking no worse for wear, which has me completely confounded. She walks to the table and takes a seat on Jameson’s lap, seemingly oblivious to the tension of the room.

“Abby! You look terrific! Is the baby moving? Can I feel her?”

“She’s napping at the moment. She prefers to sleep during the day and then wiggles all night. Jesse’s a little terrified.”

“It’s because you’re moving and it rocks her to sleep,” I explain, flipping pancakes as Max pulls down a stack of plates and grabs a handful of forks from the drawer beside me.

“See!” Abby cries. “You could totally talk to Jesse!”

“Talk to Jesse about what?” Kendall asks, taking a drink from Jameson’s glass.

My eyes fly to her in an attempt to urge her to change the subject and to do it quickly, but she’s looking at Abby and my look of warning goes unseen.

“This isn’t going to be a conversation I want to hear is it?” Jameson asks as I place a plate of pancakes on the table.

“No. See if you can distract her with food,” I half tease.

“Harper! I just want to have sex!” Abby cries, leaning her head on arms that are folded on the kitchen table. Jameson looks at her and then to the pancakes and places three of them on her plate.

“If you guys would talk, it would solve your issues!” Abby says, picking her head up and waving her fork between Max and me.

Words are on the tip of my tongue to dispel her comment when the front door closing redirects my attention.

“Happy morning!”

I turn with the spatula raised in my hand to see Erin dressed and made over with perfection. Her eyes land on me first, traveling down my pajamas and back to my hair tied in a pony to my face that’s still void of makeup. Her lips turn up in a wide smile.

“Here, sometimes I find alcohol helps me deal with her.” Jameson passes me a glass with a quick smile.

I bring it to my nose, recalling the few mixed drinks of his I’ve tried. Just the smell of it burns my throat and makes my empty stomach clench.

“Hey, Baby,” she says, turning her attention to Max, who’s currently unloading the dishwasher.

I don’t hesitate another second. I take a long gulp of the liquid. It burns. It burns to the point I nearly choke. I wince, fighting my need to cough by taking another pull.

“Harper, don’t drink that! They’re disgusting and make it difficult to walk for an hour.”

“Harper?” Abby repeats, looking from Kendall to me. Abby never joined in calling me Ace. I’ve never asked why. It’s never bothered me to have one person that I consider to be like family calling me Harper, aside from my mom’s family, but my eyes fall to Kendall as well because my sisters never call me Harper, even when they’re upset with me.

Erin’s attention turns to Abby, looking confused by her presence. “Are you another sister?”

“No, Erin, this is Abby. Abby, this is Erin. Erin and Max are dating.” I take another drink as Kendall completes the brief introductions. “Erin, would you like to join us for breakfast?” Her tone is cordial but lacks the warmth she usually exudes, but I still feel slightly betrayed that she’s welcoming her.

“It’s like almost three,” she replies, looking at Kendall with confusion.

“You date Max?” Abby repeats the words with disbelief, not allowing the conversation of meals and times to continue. “How long have you guys been dating?”

I hate that I focus on hearing the answer to the same question I’ve been wondering.

“A few months, we actually met at the gym. It was totally ironical,” Erin replies.

Ironical! Ironical? I can’t help but turn and shoot an accusing look to Max that he dutifully avoids.

“I used to watch him all the time! I mean he’s fuckin’ hot right?” She pauses, and I glance over to find that she’s waiting for a response to her rhetorical question, her eyes trained on me for an answer.

Abby looks at me and then back to Erin. “Fuckin’ hot, yeah … So then what?” Abby continues, taking another bite of pancake.

“What?” Erin asks, staring at Abby’s plate. “Did you put chocolate in those? Do you realize how many calories are in those things?”

I finish the last of my drink and turn to see Kendall grab another pancake from the plate.

“You said you met at the gym and you stared at Max because he was hot,” Abby coaxes, focused on the conversation at hand.

“Yeah, well we started talking, and then one day his dog nearly knocked me over. I swear doesn’t he look like a bear? I keep telling Max we need to change his name.” My knuckles graze the bottom of the pan as I turn in alarm to see Max’s reaction to her proposing that they rename my dog.

His gaze is on my hand and quickly moves to my face, waiting for a reaction. I turn away from him, scooping the pancakes on the griddle up. Before I move to the table, Jameson stands and brings the pancake plate over.

“Do you think a bear would attack a dog like that?”

I bite my bottom lip to try and keep the giggle in my throat from bursting. I feel it begin to rescind and then glance at Jameson as I set the pancakes on the plate. His eyebrows are drawn together, and his eyes blink rapidly, like he’s trying to make sense of her words. I’m a goner. The alcohol makes it feel really good to laugh, far better than it should since I’m laughing at something that the others have found far less amusing.

“Her pancake, it’s shaped like a penis,” Jameson lies, trying to excuse my laughter, which only makes me giggle harder.

“Okay, so Zeus nearly knocked you over…” Abby talks over my laughter in an attempt to pry the rest of the story from her.

“Yeah, he’s huge right? Such a man’s dog.”

I glance at Zeus seated against the island and work to stifle another giggle.

“Yes. Very manly,” Kendall says, making me drop my face to silently chuckle again.

“The rest is history,” Erin finishes.

I look over at Kendall, still amused by thinking of Zeus being half bear and a man’s dog, to see Erin head to the fridge.

“Do you have any oranges, babe? My new cleanse only lets me eat oranges and cucumbers.”

“I don’t think so,” Max replies while glaring at me. I’m still trying to control my laughter, but his evident annoyance about my behavior makes me frown and tilt my head to the side, challenging him to object to the humor of the situation.

Abby looks from me to Max then spears a bite of her pancake. “I always pegged you to fight for what you want,” she says, looking at Max.

“I did. I have what I want,” Max clips, dousing me with a wave of reality and pain that mingles with embarrassment.

“Obviously,” Abby retorts. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” She pushes her chair back and leaves while Kendall and I both list a dozen objections.

“Wow, you put peanut butter on your pancakes too?” Erin asks, stopping in front of Abby’s abandoned chair.

Abby shakes her head a few times and leaves. I turn too quickly and feel the room spin before gaining my footing and heading in the direction of the door.

“A—Harper,” Jameson calls, extending his hand with a pancake.

I ignore it and hurry to catch up to Abby. I find her sitting in her car, her hands covering her face.

“I can’t believe him!” she screams. Her hands fall from her face as I drop into the passenger seat. “I’m going to have Jesse come and punch some freaking sense into his thick head.”

Reaching across the console, I grip her hand within my own. “I want him to be happy.”

“Neither one of you are happy!” Abby yells, making me realize that a pregnancy side effect of hers is brutal and unfiltered honesty. “You ran away because you didn’t know how to fix things, and now you’re spending all your time trying to repair someone that you can’t fix. Fix this, Harper. Fix you and Max.”