Oh my god, you’re being so obvious.
Luckily, I haven’t lost any of my acting skills since I landed, and Jamie doesn’t pick up on any of my ulterior motives.
“I think so,” she says, looking around as if assessing her guests, then points her thumb behind her. “Ozzy is in the kitchen with Itzel and Huxley. Alec couldn’t make it.”
My heart skips a beat, but I swallow down my nerves.
“Great,” I say, slapping on a fake smile. “Let me go say hi — is there wine in the kitchen?”
Jamie smiles and nods, then ushers me through the living room and into the kitchen. My legs turn slightly wobbly, and I have no other sane choice but to brace myself for the inevitable.
Huxley’s back is to us when we walk in. I’d pick out his close-cropped blue hair anywhere. He’s always been a littletaller than his older brother, and by what I’ve seen—andfelt—of his build, he spent his whole stint in prison lifting weights.
My nerves are so frazzled that something suddenly takes over me. Like a switch, I slip into the Connie that oozes confidence. The version of me that is unbothered and is the life of the party. Itzel, who was the head chef when Jamie and Ozzy worked at Orso, sees me first. She’s not cooking but always seems to be more at ease in the kitchen.
“Look who I found!” Jamie announces happily.
I focus on Itzel’s welcoming smile, but my entire body picks up on Huxley freezing just a distance away. I swallow hard and give Itzel a quick hug before beelining for the open bottle of wine on the kitchen island. Luckily, there are a few clean wine glasses beside it, so I don’t need to forage for one.
Now fully locked into my smooth and casual persona, I pour myself a glass. “Hi, guys,” I say with a cheeky grin. “Miss me?”
Ozzy is standing over the stove, busy stirring some kind of sauce and sauteeing mushrooms in a pan with a deft flick of the wrist. He flashes me a smile from over his shoulder, but he’s soon distracted by Huxley abruptly walking out of the kitchen, not once looking my way.
Jamie’s smile fades. “What got into him?” she says to no one in particular.
My stomach adds another knot to the already twisted mess, but I push out a forced laugh and take a large gulp of my wine.
Turning to face us, Ozzy blows a brown curl out of his eye as he wipes his hands on the white rag flung over his shoulder. His gaze flicks to Jamie, and they quickly share a wordless conversation before he turns his attention back to me. His blue eyes crinkle as he smiles.
“Hungry?”
5
HUXLEY
Iwanted to leave.
I even made it all the way outside, but my feet never left the porch. I told myself I was only staying because Sophia was my ride back home. We live together now. I smoked two cigarettes back to back, muttering complaints into the cold night before I stepped back in.
Now, we’re all gathered around the dining room table, and I’m trying to choke down some mashed potatoes while Connie is sitting a few chairs opposite me.
The yellow of her blouse brings out the gold in her red hair, and I fight the urge to stab a fork into my eye at even noticing such a detail.
I shouldn’t care.
Idon’tcare.
She hasn’t tried to address me since she first walked into the kitchen, and I haven’t said a word to anyone since we sat down to eat. Luckily for me, it’s not completely out of character.
I’ve been out of prison for sixteen months now, but people still walk on eggshells around me—especially Ozzy’s friends. Atleast that means they leave me alone most of the time. But I’d rather not be here to begin with.
It all feels so fake. Especially when Ozzy tries to play the patriarch of the family.
Give me a fucking break.
Dishes full of food thatstilltaste too rich for me are passed around, everyone chattering excitedly about how good everything looks.
Sophia, who is sitting to my right, elbows me in the ribs.
