"You can't take a hot bath," my mom says, joining us at the table with her own plate.
"Why the hell not?"
Hot baths are my favorite when I'm having a bad day or need to unwind.
She points her fork at my stomach. "Because you're pregnant."
"Looks like a vacancy just opened up in your schedule," Trigg says, making himself cozy in the chair beside me.
My mother gives me a pointed glare. She doesn't want me to be rude to our new house guest, and honestly, I don't have the energy to argue.
I give him my sweetest fake smile. "Perfect. Sulking starts in ten minutes, and a chick flick marathon in twenty. Hope you're ready forShe's All Thatfollowed by10 Things I Hate About You."
"Can't say I've seen either." He leans back with an infuriating grin. "I'm more of an action guy. Fast cars and high-adrenaline activities. Oh, I like that football movie…" He snaps his fingers, trying to recall the title. "The Blind Side."
"How very...predictable of you."
"Tough crowd." He raises an offended eyebrow. "And here I thought we were bonding."
My mom hides a smile behind her coffee cup, clearly enjoying this more than she should.
"Well, if testosterone-fueled entertainment is more your speed, you're welcome to crash with your brother next door. I'm sure he's got plenty of football documentaries."
"Nah, I think I'll stick around." He flashes my mom one of those charming grins that probably works on every woman he encounters. "Something tells me the pancakes are better over here. Plus, I've never seen someone sulk professionally before. Could be educational."
I narrow my eyes at him. "Trust me, you haven't seen anything yet."
"Looking forward to it," he says, and I can tell he's slowly winning my mother over with every word. And me too. The problem is I was never mad at Trigg. It's his brother I have a problem with.
All this is so painful. None of it makes sense: me falling for London, London falling for me. What was it all for if this is how we end? That may be my problem. I'm overthinking, trying to protect a heart that's already in pieces. But maybe that's the point. Sometimes, the only way forward is to dance in the storm. Ifyou're not scared of getting wet, it can't hurt you. And forgiving isn't forgetting. It's letting go and choosing not to let the things that hurt you hold the power. The rain will stop eventually, but I'll still know how to dance.
Chapter 33
LANEY
"I'm bored," Trigg says, strolling into my room unannounced and throwing himself onto my bed as I finish my morning skincare routine in the mirror.
"I don't see how this is my problem," I say, uninterested. He's been hounding me for the past three days, and while, truth be told, I'm getting bored too, I haven't been ready to face the town. Not just because I could run into London, but because of what happened the last time I was here. I haven't been home since London was hauled off in a police car for my crime.
"You refuse to leave the house," he says as though he read my thoughts.
"So…" I draw out in a bored tone as I reach for my mascara.
"So, I need someone to show me the town," he says as he picks up one of my throw pillows and tosses it in the air, only to catch it.
"Ask your brother," I retort plainly.
"He's not talking to me." He tosses the pillow up again.
His antics are needling at my nerves. Maybe growing up an only child wasn't the curse I thought it was. Right now, brothers lying on my freshly made bed, wrinkling my sheets, and carelessly tossing throw pillows around that could break something are a hard pass.
"I don't believe you," I say with a pointed glare through the mirror.
"And why not?" he questions, dropping the pillow.
"Because every craving and every little item I thought I might need, from a pregnancy pillow to a water bottle, has shown up outside my window for the past three days." I turn to him, unbelieving how he thinks I haven't connected the dots.
"I don't see how this has anything to do with me." He picks up the dropped pillow.
