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“See who?” Suddenly, I’m not so hungry anymore.
“Don’t be obtuse. Did you see–”
“Yes. I saw her at the game.” I cut her off before she said Harbor’s name. I don’t need the kids telling Connor that I have a crush on his sister because they pick up things, they aren’t supposed to know better than a bar regular snatches up a pool stick.
She arches her eyebrow. “And?”
“And nothing.” I shrug, stand, and collect mine and the kid’s breakfast plates.
“Ask her out. I know she’d go.”
“You don’t know that.” I stomp past her and drop the plates on the counter with a loud clang. “What good would it do if I did? Even if she said yes, it’s not like she’s moving back.” Giving up pretending around my sister that I have feelings for Harbor is easier at this point than fighting a losing battle.
“You could move to San Francisco.”
“No. I can’t. I need to be here for….” You and the kids. Damn her.
“See….” She raises her hands in the air. “You’ve stopped living life because of me and the kids. You’re giving up your happiness to play the Superman big brother role.” She lowers one of her hands and clasps my bicep. “I appreciate it, but it needs to stop. Go have fun. Lighten up.” Her eyes twinkle with humor. “Go make your own kids to spoil with love and affection.”
My jaw flexes as I grit my teeth together. “It’s not going to happen. She’s probably dating someone back in San Francisco. And her brothers would–”
“Screw Connor and the rest of the Slater boys.” The humor drops from her face. “They need to get a life. And her parents…. They love you. Besides, she’s a grown woman. Ask her out and see what happens. If there’s no connection, then move on. At least, you’d finally know.”
Chapter Nine
Harbor
“I’m not doing it with him.” I drop a plate of cookies on the table. Damn it. One of the tips of a star snapped off. The fact that she’s getting to me is annoying. And what makes it worse is that she knows it.
“I didn’t say that you had to do it with him. I said, ‘I need you to do a photo shoot with him.’” Layla smirks as she pushes past me, marching to her vehicle and collecting another baked good for the homecoming bake sale. “You’re the one that had to go all naughty about it.”
“You’re ridiculous.” I grit my teeth together and heft a display of school-colored frosted cupcakes out of the trunk and watch in horror as one of the top ones teeters sideways. To avoid a catastrophe, I stand motionless and wait for the baked goods to settle back into place.
“Girls.” My mom glares at us as she slams the door of her car shut with her hip and balances a pie pan on her outstretched palm. “Do not mess up my cupcakes. You know the bake sale is the last moneymaker before we buy Christmas presents for the kids.”
My parents have been involved in raising money for less fortunate children for as long as I can remember. They knew how rough it was with decent jobs to raise five kids. It was important to them to help other families who didn’t have it so good.
“Yes, Mom. I know. I’m sorry.” It’s a great cause, and I shouldn’t let Layla impact my emotions anyway, especially over Cole. When I woke up this morning, I made the decision to move on. No more pining over my brother’s best friend.
“Sorry, Mrs. Slater.” Layla’s cheeks are red as she holds a cake container with both hands. “I shouldn’t have teased Harbor.”
“No, you shouldn’t.” Her eyes narrow as she studies us. “What exactly were you teasing her about?”
“Her and Cole doing–”
“Stop.” I smash my free hand over my friend’s mouth as a mother and little girl walk past the booth.
“Harbor and Cole are doing what?” My mom’s eyes widen as she clutches her chest. “Oh, my God, really? This is the greatest news ever.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mom, we aren’t doing it.”
“But she’d like to.” Layla laughs as she waggles her eyebrows.
“I knew it.” My mom shakes her head and pulls her cell phone out of her purse. “I told Nolan that the looks they gave each other on my birthday were smoldering hot. I’m texting him now to tell him the good news.” Her fingers fly across the screen. “I’m going to win the bet. Who knew my youngest would be the first to give us grandchildren.” She smacks the phone against her chest and practically swoons with happiness. “Does this mean you’re moving home?”
“Oh, my God. You people are insane. I’m not doing it with Cole. We don’t have the hots for each other. And I’m not getting pregnant. Or moving back. Layla wants us to do a BDSM photo shoot together.” I wave my hands in the air. “That’s it.”
“BDSM?” My mom frowns, and I give up. I’m not waiting around for Layla to explain the details of these images that we aren’t taking together. I’ve landed in crazy land where everyone is out to get me.
