She throws her arm around my shoulder, and says, “Like I said, it’s going to be one hell of an awesome show watching the two of you fall for each other.”Chapter 14MasonThe second the girls are gone, Falcon asks, “Is this thing between you and Kingsley serious?”
“Nah, I’m just fucking with her.”
“Literally,” Lake mumbles under his breath.
Falcon stares at me, and a smile begins to form on his face.
“It’s nothing like that,” I quickly defend, knowing exactly what he’s thinking.
“You’re at stage three. Don’t worry, it passes quickly,” Lake says as he lies down on the couch.
“Stage three? Do I even want to hear this?”
“Stage one, fighting. Stage two, you either kiss or like in your case, become fuck frenemies. Stage three, denial. Stage four, you realize you like the girl but then have no idea what to do. Stage five, you take the plunge, and it’s game over for your bachelor status.”
I look to Falcon and grinning the fucker nods. “I’m afraid he’s right.”
I let out a chuckle. “That will never happen. When it comes to Hunt, there are only two stages, fighting or fucking, but definitely no denial and taking a plunge.”
Lake lets out a sigh. “Like I said. Denial.”
“Don’t worry,” Falcon says, and he leans over so he can pat me on the shoulder. “You’ll survive.”
“Yeah?” I ask as I grab his arm and yank him to me. I wrestle him to the ground, growling, “Can’t promise you’ll survive.”It’s been a quiet weekend with the girls gone.
Falcon’s been working on the business plans and Lake’s been talking with Lee-ann. She’s arriving next month, and I really hope it turns out well for Lake.
I park my car in the driveway and getting out, my eyes sweep over my family home.
There’s the familiar grip of grief around my heart, but it’s not as tight as before.
I let myself into the house and first go up the stairs to Jen’s room. I stop outside the bedroom and take a deep breath before I open the door.
The first thing I notice is that the smell has changed. Jen’s scent no longer hangs in the air.
I walk over to her dresser and pick up the perfume she used. Bringing the bottle to my nose, I close my eyes.
‘What are you doing in my room?’ Jen asks, catching me red-handed while I take a photo of the perfume she likes, so I can get it for her birthday.
Grabbing the first thing in sight, I hold it up. ‘I wanted to borrow this.’
‘A scrunchie? For what?’
Shit. I stare at the scrunchie, then do the only thing I can think off. I gather my hair at the top and struggle to tie it, but finally succeed… sort of.
‘Really?’ she grins while crossing her arms.
‘Yeah, I want to see if a man bun will work for me.’
‘I dare you to go to school like that tomorrow.’
I yank the thing out and drop it on her dresser. ‘No, way. Falcon and Lake will never let me live it down.’
Her laughter follows me as I rush out of her room.
Opening my eyes, I look at all the photos she stuck to the side of her mirror. Seeing one of us, pulling faces at the camera, I reach for it.
“You were the best sister,” I whisper.
I go to sit down on her bed and keep staring at her face.
“Would you hate me if I moved on?”
Hearing movement, my head snaps up. My mother’s leaning against the door jamb. There’s a soft smile around her mouth, and I can’t even remember when last I saw it.
She glances around the room, then says, “I wanted to put her things in storage but waited for you to come to say goodbye.”
“Storage?” I ask, not liking the sound of that.
“Yes.” Mom walks closer and sits down next to me. She leans in and looks at the photo. “This room feels like a tomb. I don’t want to remember Jennifer this way – as if time has frozen.”
Mom brings her eyes to my face, and she smiles warmly. Reaching for my hair, she brushes her fingers through it, and it makes emotion well in my chest.
Tears begin to fill her eyes, and with a trembling voice, she whispers, “It’s time I focus on my son. He’s still here with me.”
I can’t keep the emotion from engulfing me, and it makes a tear roll over my cheek.
Mom lets out a shaky breath, and she wipes my tear away with the gentle touch I’ve missed for so long.
“I’m sorry I was such a shitty mother when you needed me most.”
“You had your own pain,” I whisper.
She shakes her head. “You’re my child, and you should’ve come first.”
Dropping her hand to mine, she pulls the photo from my fingers and sets it aside, before holding my hand tightly.