I freeze, then slowly turn around to look at Micheal. “Why would he be mad?”
“Because you pretended to be engaged to someone else while he’s in love with you,” Michael says, like he gives people this kind of news all the time.
“He didn’t say that,” I whisper. If he really loved me, then why didn’t he say it back at the hospital? Why hasn’t he texted, or called, or come home?
“But you love him too, don’t you?” Michael asks. Last week, I would have denied it. But after last night, after that kiss, I can’t.
“I do,” I whisper.
“Dang,” Michael shakes his head. “We’ve had a bet going on about you two for years. And we all lost.”
“What?” I reel back.
Another bet? Of course, there was.
“What do you mean?”
He leans back against the counter, and that’s when I notice my family watching me. Everyone. Even my grandma.
“We thought we could get Grant to admit it first,” Micheal says, and the usual joy from his bets isn’t there. “So Juliet made another bet. She said you guys would be together by Christmas.”
My mouth drops open and I shoot the traitor a glance. “What?”
She raises her hands. “If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em?"
That sneaky little thing.
I shake my head. On second thought, she’s going to fit in just fine.
“I promise I’ll never make a bet again.” Juliet hurries to say.
“Don’t worry,” I grin at Juliet, “you’ll get what’s coming.” My smile falls. “But we’re not together. So I guess, I’m the one who lost.”
Pain fills my chest.Why doesn’t he feel the same?
The room turns eerily quiet. Maybe I should have gotten a tattoo. It would give me a different pain to focus on than the one consuming my heart.
“Eggnog anyone?” Grandma asks, completely misreading the room.
I sigh, pushing my tears back. My entire family is here. I should be enjoying every minute with them. Now that I like my brothers again. “I’d love some.”
Chapter 24
Grant
There was a bet. Lennox almost got a tattoo, and she almost got her brothers to get one too.
I close out of the text thread with Trent.
Wow, I missed a lot in one day.
I push back in my chair and hit the wall. I forgot how small this kitchen is.
I scrub a hand down my face. I haven’t talked to Lennox since the hospital two days ago. My dad was released, and I told myself I needed some time to be with him, but for the last thirty-six hours, I’ve done nothing but think about her.
“What’s wrong?” My dad asks. He pushes away his plate. He barely ate any food.
I look up at him. He wasn’t there for me for years, when all I needed was him. And I’m trying to get over that, but it’s going to take some time. His prognosis isn’t good. He has less than a year, but I’m hopeful we can mend our broken relationship. Maybe start building that bridge between two lost souls.
